7 Tips for Bringing Kids to Ethnic Restaurants and Others Without Children’s Menus

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 6 Comments

7 Tips for Bringing Kids to Ethnic and Other Restaurants without Kids Menus. Want to bring your kids to more restaurants but uncertain if they'll eat anything or be able to sit still? Check out these tips! (Photo: Ethiopian food in background)

“Where do you want to eat?” Anyone who has ever gone to a restaurant with their family has faced this question, probably followed by a drawn-out conversation about likes, dislikes, convenience, and whatever dish you got there last time. If you have young children, you may automatically exclude whole categories from consideration. You may never even consider bringing kids to ethnic restaurants and others without children’s menus.

But if you’ve always longed to check out that new Indian place but don’t want to spend money on a babysitter, there may be hope. It’s actually easier to bring kids to restaurants that don’t specifically cater to families than you think.

While it may seem intimidating, I’ve successfully brought my toddler to restaurants that specialize in a variety of cuisines, including fancy Italian, Ethiopian, Peruvian, and Japanese food.

Here are a few tips that can help:

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Birthday Parties: Learning to be Flexible as a Mom

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Birthday Parties: Learning to be Flexible as a Mom; My son's fourth birthday was stressful as hell. And yet I learned a lot about adapting to unexpected circumstances. (Photo: Kid blowing out candles on a birthday cake as a man lights them.)

The band-aid was the first sign of trouble.

My parents, my in-laws, Chris, and I were all rushing around, trying to set up Sprout’s fourth birthday party. A few days earlier, Sprout had badly cut his ring finger and now the band-aid was peeling off. Like all children, Sprout takes his band-aids Very Seriously. While we have a plentiful supply of Thomas the Train band-aids at home, my current stash was limited to Star Wars. “Look, I have Star Wars band-aids!” I exclaimed, trying to work up an adequate level of enthusiasm. “I don’t want Star Wars band-aids! I want Thomas!” he cried. After much whining, including an exclamation of “I don’t want to watch Star Wars!,” my mom resolved the situation. She offered to “make” a dinosaur band-aid from a plain bandage and dinosaur stamp.

This dramatic arc was solid foreshadowing for the rest of his birthday party.

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Pedal Bikes and Responsibility

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 2 Comments

Pedal Bikes and Responsibility. Moving from a balance bike to a pedal bike is a big jump. Was my four-year-old ready for it? (Photo: A kid riding down a sidewalk on a balance bike.)

“Where are you going?” I yelled at Sprout across the playground as he zipped around on his balance bike. “I told you not go back there!” My words echoed off of the wall of the building that my son just disappeared behind. My face dropped into a frown as I waited for him to emerge from the other side. When he came around, I walked up to him and said, “You are not using your bike for the rest of the day.” Of course, he broke down wailing.

Another day, Sprout wheeled his bike down the sidewalk near our house, feet flying. But this time, he dragged his sneakers along the pavement when I yelled, “Stop!” Coming to a halt, he waited for Little Bird and I to catch up, despite his fidgeting hands showing his desire to go, go, go! As soon as we reached him, he was off again, speeding ahead but listening for my call.

As I decided whether or not to buy a pedal bike for his fourth birthday, I thought about what side I should weigh more heavily. Was he responsible enough for this present or not?

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Guest Post at Her View from Home: Teaching My Kids Grit

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No one wants failure. Most of the time, it kind of sucks. But it is a fact of life. And one that kids need to deal with on a regular basis. They can – and will – learn about it on their own. But they can also learn about it from us as their parents.

I recently wrote about how I’m using my own failures to teach my kids how to deal with theirs at my first post for Her View from Home, Teaching My Kids Grit by Modeling How to Fail Well.

Here’s the first paragraph:

Riding to my first community bike ride of the season, I rejoiced. The blue skies and perfect temperature surely meant plenty of families would show up. But as I waited at the community center with my young son, my hopes faded. A biker riding up the parking lot piqued my attention before I realized it was one of the other volunteers. Not a single family showed up to my family bike ride. Instead, my kid, my two fellow volunteers and I pedaled over to the ice cream shop anyway.

Read the rest at Her View from Home! 

How We Built a Raised Bed Children’s Garden

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

How We Built a Raised Bed Children's Garden for Our Young Kids. Want your kids to have somewhere to dig and plant flowers? Here's how we build a raised bed to accommodate them. (Photo: Boy with a giant shovel digging in a large wooden box.)

As a child, I’d spend hours in my backyard poking around in the dirt. I’d pretend specific plants were magical and “mix” up concoctions. I could be alone with my imagination, whether under the giant pine tree or next to my mom’s garden bed.

But our yard doesn’t offer the same experience for our kids. It’s on a corner heavy with foot traffic and no clear place for them to play in the dirt. So I wanted to make them one – somewhere that was set-aside, just for them. After more than a year of planning – raising a new baby took a higher priority – we finally started building it this spring.

The children’s garden isn’t anything complicated. While there are some amazing outdoor play spaces on Pinterest, we had neither the space or need for anything that elaborate. We just wanted to build something that could hold some dirt. It’s really just a box. Or in fancy garden terms, a raised bed children’s garden.

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Turning Four: Looking Back on Parenting a Three-Year-Old

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Turning Four: Looking Back on Parenting a Three-Year-Old; From the emotional outbursts of threenagers to the joys of independence, three is a tough but awesome age for kids and parents alike. (Photo: Boy riding away on a balance bike on a sidewalk.)

A few Saturdays ago, Sprout accompanied me on my community bike ride, acting as an enthusiastic second and playing readily with other kids on the playground. The next day, he broke down screaming three separate times when we were celebrating an early Fathers’ Day brunch with my parents and in-laws. I actually picked him up and left the restaurant so he could calm down, something I almost never have to do. This past year with a three-year-old has been full of contradictions: happy/sad, stable/falling apart, independent/clingy. With him on the cusp between being a toddler and school-aged kid, we felt the full-brunt of the threenager phase. With his birthday just past, I’m looking back at the ups and downs of living with a three-year-old.

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Five Surprising Ways I’m Like My Dad

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5 Surprising Ways I'm Like My Dad (Photo: White older man holding up a sharp rock)

“You look just like your mom.” Those are always the first words out of anyone’s mouth who knows my mom and is meeting me for the first time. Admittedly, my mom and I have many things in common. Namely, a talkative nature and knack for strong opinions. But lately, I’ve been noticing more and more the ways that I’m like my dad.

On first glance, my dad and I don’t seem to have much in common. My good high school friend once half-joked that he had never heard my dad talk. That was obviously false, but had enough truth to it to be funny.

But for all that our personalities are different, his influence has definitely rubbed off on me.

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A Call to Action for Parents on Climate Change

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 2 Comments

A Call to Action for Parents on Climate Change; Photo: Painting of the Lorax in front of the White House

As I scrolled through Facebook the day President Trump announced America was leaving the Paris accords to address climate change, I couldn’t do anything but sigh and shake my head. As a long time climate change activist, I increasingly identify with the climate scientists sinking into despair the same way the West Antarctic ice sheet is. As there was nothing else I could do, I posted a screenshot of the Weather Channel that made me laugh. That evening, I stood out on my back deck, stared at the stars, and wondered what the hell we’re doing to our children’s future.

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The Good, Bad and Ridiculous of Camping with Little Kids

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Want to go camping with little kids but not sure how it will go? Learn from our experiences of camping with a one and four-year-old!

The Good, Bad and Ridiculous of Camping with Two Little Kids (Photo: Camping tent with toy recycling truck next to it)

Feeling the thump thump thump of a four-year-old’s kicking feet against my back and the cries of the one-year-old who did not want to be in the car any longer, I thought, “What the hell was I thinking trying to go camping with two kids?” We were still 45 minutes from our site and things were going very badly.

It had been almost two years since we had gone camping with our older son (nicknamed Sprout). It was the first time we went camping both him and his younger brother together. Even though the times with Sprout were chaotic, I felt like there was a genuine magic that makes all of the other nonsense worthwhile.

That magic eventually turned up on this trip as well. Fortunately, a couple of potty breaks and some whining later, I realized our camping trip turned out a hell of a lot better than I expected it would. Looking back reminds me of some of the questions we discuss with Sprout at bedtime: “What were your favorite things?” “What were you proud of?” and “What did you learn?” Here’s what the good, bad, and definite lessons learned were of camping with little kids.

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My Little Explorer

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

My Little Explorer / We'll Eat You Up, We Love You So; photo of two boys climbing a playground rock wall

Sitting at the top of our concrete stairs, Little Bird smiles down at me. Even though he doesn’t talk yet, his big grin says, “Look at me, Mama! Isn’t this awesome?” Used to my daredevil of a baby, I shake my head, smile back and hustle up the stairs before he gets the idea to climb down on his own.

I suppose it’s appropriate that one of my kids is a risk-taker. After all, exploration and adventure are some of my big values, in whatever form they come. My family stories overflow with risk, from biking around the world to immigrating to America. And I myself was a kid who never hesitated to put anything in my mouth and embraced the wildness of the outdoors. But all of that doesn’t make it any easier on my mental health.

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