You know those things that seemed like a good idea when you first thought of them, but then they turn out to be a little more involved than you expected?

This was one of those.

We live in suburbia. We have a third-acre plot of grass with a house in the middle. There’s no field and no patches of bare earth, but we do have a tree row on one side that offers plentiful ticks and brambles.

Also some nice shade on hot summer afternoons.

We have no place for my kids to sit in the mud or play in the mud or even get dirty, unless you count the raised garden beds Joe built a couple of years ago. They are fenced and fortified, so there’s no dirty play going on there, either.

We do have a spot in our yard that fills up with water during heavy rains, but even that doesn’t get muddy. Swampy, but not really muddy.

Anyway. One day last weekend, I was planting flowers, and Allie got really excited about the mud created when I watered them in. After seeing her amazement, I decided that my kids needed to get muddy.

The kids were already in play clothes (we were gardening), so I asked Joe to fill a dish pan and a bucket with dirt (one for Allie and one for Grace).

I gave each kid a pitcher of water, and I showed them how to mix in the water a little at a time to make mud. Allie dumped her water in all at once and required more dirt.

As soon as her mud was muddy, she began splashing it everywhere (all over both of us), and I realized that I hadn’t properly thought this plan through.

(If I had, I would’ve still done it.)

She squished and squashed and splattered, and we were both covered in mud in less than a minute.

By the time she laid in the mud, I had no words left. I just sat in amazement and laughed. I didn’t predict this pure delight from her. (She doesn’t normally like to be messy.)

Her mud was too wet to make mud pies, but she made a tower of rocks in it. She scooped and poured it with her hands, a cup, and her watering can.

Grace wasn’t nearly as eager or as vigorous in her muddy play, but she did play and did giggle the whole time.

Our kiddie pool was starting to turn light green from algae, so I let the kids wash their hands and tools in the water. It was destined to be used as garden irrigation later in the day anyway.

Once Allie’s clothes were saturated, she told me, Clothes OFF. Being half naked didn’t stop her from playing in the mud.

I stopped taking pictures when she said, Diaper OFF and subsequently removed it. They played in their mud and then got in the pool and played in the muddy pool water.

Allie, who usually has an attention span of two minutes (as is normal for a 2-year-old) played in her mud for almost an hour.

It was a giant pain to clean up (both from the kids and from the yard), but the girls’ experience was worth it. We’ll do this again, for sure.

Have you ever created mud puddles in your backyard?

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

I’ll turn 34 in a couple of weeks; I am a young woman. I was an infant during the last six months of the seventies. I’ve grown up in a high tech world.

Yet, thinking back on the ways in which the world has changed in the last 20 or so years boggles my mind. I remember life before microwaves and VCRs and child safety seats. I didn’t use a cell phone until after I graduated from college, and I didn’t purchase one until awhile after that.

Grace (who just turned 6) and Allie (2 1/2) have never lived in a home without central air, never ridden in a car without automatic windows. They’ve grown up with an iPhone, iPad, and laptop. They will never know a world without ebooks and Google and bicycle helmets, but make no mistake, there are plenty of things they’re missing out on.

1. Outhouses – When I was growing up, Grandma had an outhouse in the yard. It was leftover from the time when there was no indoor bathroom. (My mom’s bedroom was renovated into a bathroom when she moved out in the early 1970′s).

The outhouse blew down during a tornado around 1990. Aside from tchotchkes in country stores, I haven’t seen another non-plastic outhouse in more than 20 years.

2. 8-track tapes – I’m going to share with you a trauma of my childhood. On Saturday mornings, when my mother thought we should be awake, she would play her old 8-track tapes of the Mamas and the Papas or John Denver at full volume. For my husband, the torture involved polka music. I thought 8-tracks were so old and strange back then. After all, we had cassettes, way smaller and way cooler than 8-tracks.

By the way, have you ever tried to explain a cassette tape to a 4-year-old who has only ever played music on an iPod or a computer? Try it sometime.

3. Black rotary phones - Old Grandma just got rid of hers, so it was technically in my daughter’s life for almost 5 years, but I doubt she’ll remember it as she grows older. We dial the phone on a touchscreen. I, for much of my life, had to wait for the dial to return to zero and actually stand next to the base while I was talking. I spent many hours winding a coiled phone cord around my fingers while talking to my girlfriends. For my daughter? The phone has never been connected to the wall.

Remember testing your cordless to see how far outside you could go before it lost signal? As far as Grace knows, the phone has no limits. It even works in other countries.

4. Old school TV set – My daughters will never see a console TV with buttons. Not buttons, like a remote control, but buttons like the twelve things on the front of the TV set that you had to press in order to change the channel. Of course, that was after you put down the TV Guide magazine that you received in the mail every week and stood up to actually walk across the room.

My parents only recently got rid of the giant wood-encased set that took up half of our living room. My tv (circa 2004) is huge and heavy, but some day soon, the switchover to flat screens will be complete, and my girls won’t remember anything else.

I remember a TV commercial from my childhood with a little boy working on a model airplane. His grandfather leaned over and said, “Did you know that some people have to pay for their television channels?” and the little boy was incredulous. I, too, couldn’t imagine paying to watch television.

Now? I know exactly one person who still uses a turn-it-in-the-right-direction-for-each-individual-channel old school antenna. Yes, it is Old Grandma.

5. Atari 2600 & Nintendo Entertainment System – Okay, so she’ll probably always have video games, but video games in my daughter’s world are interactive use-your-whole-body adventures with realistic, 3D graphics. Video games from my youth were the classics. Pong. Space invaders  Tetris. Super Mario Brothers. Dr. Mario. They were 2D at best, and the graphics were rough. They were games that we had to sit down to play. Games that used our thumbs and only our thumbs, and we were happy to have them.

6. The card catalog - When I was a kid, I looked up books at the library in a card catalog. It was called a card catalog because it was a very large collection of actual, paper cards upon which someone had written or typed each book’s information. My daughter searches for the entire county’s book database on a computer, from our house.

Let’s not talk about encyclopedias.

7. Tan M&Ms – Before there were blue M&Ms, there were tan ones. Not only do I remember the M&Ms with two shades of brown, I remember voting in the contest to determine whether blue, pink, or purple should be the new color. Blue wasn’t my choice.

It’s not just things, of course. She knows nothing of the Berlin Wall or September 11th or Y2K or OJ Simpson or Columbine … only the crazy ways they all changed our world.

What things do you remember from your childhood will your children never know?

Photo source

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

A long time ago, a wise friend told me that love isn’t something that you feel; it’s something that you do. I like that definition because it emphasizes that loving is a choice, not something that strikes you – or doesn’t.

Don’t let this list leave you feeling guilty or inferior. No parent can do all of these things every day or even every week. They are merely suggestions, things you can do to love your kids even on days when you aren’t in the mood.

1. Say “I love you,” especially when you’re angry with them. It’s then they most need to hear it.
2. Speak to them in a kind voice whether you feel like it or not.
3. Every day, sincerely ask how their day was and what they did, and look into their eyes and actively listen while they tell you.
4. Ask them what they want to do, listen to their answer, and then make it happen.
5. Hug them and hold on longer than normal.
6. Kiss them, even when they protest a little.
7. Let them sit on your lap. To watch tv. To read a book. Just to cuddle. If your kids are anything like mine, they will sit on your lap for an hour, just to be close.
8. Read to them (here are 101 picture books to read aloud and 101 chapter books to read aloud).
9. Watch their favorite tv show or movie with them. Sit close enough to put your arm around them.
10. Ask what they want to play and then play it happily for at least 10-15 minutes.
11. Send them mail, real mail with stamps that wil arrive in the real mailbox. Put in stickers or tattoos or something else they really love.
12. Take them on one-on-one dates. Make the dates special. See a show at the kids’ theater. Go out to their favorite restaurant (Grace especially likes buffets and Red Robin {bottomless fries?!}.) and order dessert. Go fishing or boating or whatever they like to do. Offer suggestions, but let them choose the activity.
13. Do a craft together, but don’t criticize or offer suggestions on what theirs should look like. Let them create their own vision, and then praise it like it’s a priceless masterpiece (because it is).
14. Do one of their household jobs for them.
15. Compliment them honestly. Praise their good qualities, but don’t blow smoke. Kids recognize empty words, and you’ll lose credibility.
16. Go on a scavenger hunt together. Take a box for treasures. See the wonder of the world through your child’s eyes.
17. Go for a walk together. Let them set the direction and the pace. Look at what they want to look at, and go where they want to go.
18. Play a game together, any old game. Board game, card game, video game. Let them choose and give it your undivided attention.
19. Watch videos of them (you know, from when they were littler) together.
20. Listen to them when they’re speaking to you. I know you’re busy, and they want to talk at the least convenient times, but look them in the eye and pay attention when they’re talking.
21. Tell them some of the things you love about them. I asked Grace recently what she likes about herself, and she couldn’t answer. She has great self esteem (I thought so anyway), but she doesn’t understand what her best qualities are. I am making a point of telling her.
22. Learn some corny jokes and tell them to your kids. Pretend they’re funny and have a big belly laugh together.
23. Let them join you in the kitchen and pretend they aren’t making a giant mess. Always, always let them lick the beaters and the spatula and the bowl.
24. Throw a party for no reason. Decorate the dining room with streamers and balloons, bake cupcakes (together!), and sing “Happy Un-Birthday to You!”
25. Lay on a blanket together and look for cloud shapes.
26. Ask them for help and let them “rescue” you. Pretend to be in dire need, and make the task something you are certain they can accomplish. Lavish praise for a job completed.
27. Make a pirate’s treasure map for them. Have a special treat at the X. (The treat would be candy or chocolate at my house.)
28. Have a family sleepover. If you don’t normally allow them in your bed, let them come in for a night. Or go into their bed for a night, if there’s room. You could even have your sleepover in the living room, but that requires sleeping on the floor, so I’m not all for that. Make it like a real sleepover. Play games in your pajamas. Watch movies. Make popcorn.
29. Tell them when you’re struggling with something. It’s good for them to see that adults have real problems, and that we work through them or at least deal with the feelings. It also tells them that you trust them with your feelings. Don’t forget to follow up with the resolution (if there is one) so they aren’t hanging in angst-ridden limbo.
30. Take them to the store and let them pick out a bunch of ice cream toppings and flavors. Don’t forget whipped cream in a can (because it’s fun!). When you get home, fix up a fancy ice cream sundae bar and let them make their sundae however they want.
31. Get an app like SkyView – Explore the Universe ($1.99). Lay on a blanket with your kids, and gaze at the stars. The app will make you look super smart because you’ll know all the constellations and planets in the sky, and they will eat it up. (Bonus points if you learn some of the stories ahead of time. Google it. I suppose should write some of them out in a blog post some day; that’s what I did as an astronomy teacher.)
32. Know their limits. I’ve discovered that most of my kids’ meltdowns are due to being too something. Too tired, too hungry, too stimulated, too anxious, too busy. Try to end activities when they’re still having a good time (before the meltdown), and you’ll both have better memories of the day.
33. Tell them often that it’s okay to make mistakes, and admit when you make mistakes. When they make mistakes, don’t freak out (unless you’re perfect and never make a mistake. In that case, feel free to freak out.)
34. Make a summer (fall/winter/Christmas/spring) to do list. Brainstorm with them to come up with the activities, and make a point to do almost everything on the list. (I say almost because most likely go to the moon or spend a month at Disneyworld will be on the list, and try as we might, we cannot make some things happen.)
35. Say no once in a while. I’m a yes mom, big time. I make a point to say yes to my kids whenever there’s not a good reason to say no. However, if everything is always perfect and goes their way, they never get a chance to learn resilience and contentment. Don’t give them everything they ask for.
36. Along the same lines, allow them to experience consequences and unpleasant emotions. If you protect them from unhappiness, challenges, and struggles, they’ll never learn how to cope.
37. Give them nose to nose Eskimo kisses and try not to giggle while you’re doing it.
38. When you’re in the car, turn off the radio and the DVD player and the iPad and talk to them.
39. Clean their rooms for them once in a while without saying a word.
40. Tell them stories about you and your parents when you were growing up.
41. Tickle them.
42. Surprise them. Often. Little treats, fancy details, scavenger hunts, museum visits. It’s not the size of the gestures but the fact that you planned something special for them and that they weren’t expecting it.
43. Let them help with everyday mundane stuff. Pretend they’re doing a good job when really they’re spraying crumbs all over the kitchen. Praise their efforts. They’ll do a little better the next time.
44. Go on field trips together. Amusement park, zoo, science museum, park, the $1 summer movies, even the creek at the end of the road. Get out of the house together, and make it about them.
45. Have a dance party in your living room. (I would first close the curtains, but that’s just me.)
46. Skip the lecture when there’s an accident. In most cases, they know they should have been more careful (and you have accidents, too, last time I checked). Relax, help them clean up the mess, and get on with your day.
47. Build something together. Use legos, craft sticks, the sand box, play dough, or one of those kits at Home Depot. Whatever. Just make something together.
48. When they ask you a question you can’t answer, find the answer together. We recently learned more than I ever wanted to know about ants because Grace had an interest. I hate ants, and I had no interest in learning about them, but it wasn’t about me.
49. Celebrate half birthdays. Presents are optional. Cake and singing and a few decorations are required. Invite a friend or two to join in, but don’t go all out.
50. Teach your children how to do real things like vacuuming, laundry, dusting, mopping the floor. These are skills they will need for life. Doing them now will also make them feel like they’re making important contributions to your household (whether they’ll admit that or not is another story).
51. Learn how to make a whistle from an acorn top and teach them.
52. Don’t do things for them that they can do (or attempt to do) for themselves. They need to know that they’re competent and capable.
53. Smile when you see them, especially if you have been apart a while (at work or at school, perhaps).
54. Have a tea party. Use “special” cups and saucers, if you have them (get them from Goodwill or the Salvation Army store but treat them like they’re very important, because they are). Eat cookies and drink with your pinkies in the air. Don’t be mad if a cup gets broken. (Just go get another one.)
55. When you put them to bed, ask “How do you think, out of all the kids in the whole wide world, I got the best one?”
56. Get to know their friends.
57. Make some spaces in your home that are just for your kids. A book nook, a playroom, a toy closet. Make sure that your house feels like home to them, too.
58. Sing with them and to them. Sing “You are My Sunshine” so much they know it by heart.
59. Pray with them. Pray, and listen while they pray without correcting or passing judgement. Remember that Jesus said we should all be like little children.
60. Let them overhear you bragging about them to others.
61. Leave them notes – in their lunches, under their pillows, in their pockets, in favorite books, in their underwear drawer. If they’re not reading well enough for a word note, draw a big heart or a smiley face or something else that they will understand.
62. Apologize when you’re wrong, especially if being wrong meant losing your temper or yelling at them.
63. Make up stories about them.
64. Write on their backs. I had never done this before Grace’s best friend’s mom did it on Grace’s birthday. She wrote letters and words and drew pictures on their backs with her finger, and they had to guess what she was writing. The girls loved it and begged for more.
65. Allow them to teach you something.
66. Go outside and play. Splash in a kiddie pool, squirt the hose, jump on a sled, make leaf rubbings, look under fallen logs. Just be outside together, doing something fun.
67. Climb in with them. Get in their fort, in their tent, on their hammock, and into their castle. If you can squeeze in, squeeze away. They’ll love it.
68. Put your phone away. Whatever it holds is not nearly as important as the little people who want your attention more than anything. Give it to them every single day.
69. Touch them. Even big kids need a pat, a squeeze, an arm around the shoulders. Often.
70. Thank them sincerely every time they help you. Saying thank you costs you nothing at all, but it means so much.
71. Cook their favorite meal and follow it with dessert. There doesn’t need to be a special occasion.
72. Change the words of songs to include their names. Better yet, make up a whole new song about them.
73. If they ask you to hold them, sit down and hold them. If you only have a minute, then hold them for a minute. Sometimes, we all just need our moms (or dads).
74. Kiss their booboos whether you can see them or not.
75. Love your spouse (in the verb sense). Work on your marriage, and your kids will reap the rewards. Kids whose parents are happily married report being happier themselves and display more confidence and resilience. Be intentional about loving your spouse every day. (Single parents, please don’t be offended. It is absolutely possible to raise happy, confident, resilient children in single parent families, but I’m sure you’ll agree that it is more difficult.)
76. Make up your own way to love them. What would you add to my list?

If you want to read more about loving your children, pick up the book To a Child Love Is Spelled Time: What a Child Really Needs from You. It’s not so much a list of ideas, but a gentle reminder that toys and books are not what your children need from you. If you liked this list, I think you’ll really like the book.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

I know you’ve been looking forward to my fourth annual Summer To Do List! (Here’s 2012, 2011, and 2010.)

I have never, and will never, call this a Bucket List (even though everyone else seems to be calling them that these days). I’ve always heard Bucket List used as a list of things to do before you kick the bucket, and I don’t plan on doing that any time soon. This is our To Do List.

And we plan on doing each item.

I made one big change from last year: I made the To Do List for you. Gone are things specific to my family like Old Grandma. This list is as good for you and your family as it is for mine.

Feel free to cross things off and add things on the back. Make my list your own. Come back and share in the comments what you added; maybe I’ll use them on next year’s list!

Like last year, I created two different versions of my Summer To Do List – one for printing and a different one for on-screen viewing. The on-screen version is meant to be used as a springboard to many online activities. It contains links to everything that’s not self-explanatory.

The printable version is nice and clean for printing, no links, no underlining, all black and white for easy (and cheap) printing.

Printable 2013 Summer To Do List – No Links for Cleaner Printing

2013 Summer To Do List – Links to Lots of Activities

I print a copy of this list and keep it on the table next to our couch, so the girls and I can cross off each thing as we do it. We’ve checked off 9 boxes so far!

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

I share recipes here at least a few times a month (except lately, when I’ve hardly been posting at all because I’m preoccupied with my mother’s progressing illness).

I share awesome recipes. I explain how to get great results. I encourage you to try out my recipes with your own families.

We are no different than any family.  Occasionally, we eat out. Sometimes, we patch together leftovers or peanut butter on crackers or pancakes and eggs or something equally lame but mostly nutritious.

We also try a lot of new recipes, always hoping for the next amazing blog recipe. Unfortunately, those don’t always go as well as we’d like.

Sometimes, we make a recipe that’s lackluster – or worse, downright awful.

Sometimes, we have a string of lackluster and awful ones.

Here are a few:

The Sad Broccoli Soup

I found a foolproof recipe for cream of broccoli soup. A friend recommended it to me. She said that her family eats it at least once a week.

I photographed every step of the preparation and cooking because I just knew it was going to be great.

It even looked great:

Well, it wasn’t great. It was horrible.

The soup tasted like broccoli and water were put into a blender and whirred around and poured into a bowl.

Can you imagine eating broccoli and water out of a blender? No bueno.

The Slimy Frittata

Next, I tried a broccoli cheese frittata recipe. I thought “Eggs and broccoli?! You can’t go wrong!”

Oh, yes you can.

This recipe called for cream of broccoli soup, and the soup made the frittata slimy. The broccoli pieces were too small; the onion pieces were too big. The egg had a distasteful texture.

The eggs were gelatinous, cooked but not set up like scrambled eggs or even an omelet.

The thick layer of cheese atop the eggs made pretty much every slimy bite oily.

No bueno. No bueno at all.

The Cakey Pizza

We used to eat homemade pizza every Sunday.

When I went gluten-free, it was pretty much the end of our Sunday night tradition. Joe went on a quest to find a gluten-free pizza recipe.

Looks good, doesn’t it?

Well, it wasn’t.

We tried a few different recipes. The first was as hard and flat and tasty as corrugated cardboard. One was so light and spongey that it tasted like cake topped with sauce, cheese, and pepperoni.

Both were unpalatable.

The Gritty Peanut Butter Dough

A friend and colleague wrote a wonderful e-book full of activities to do with children. I planned to write about it here, so the girls and I tried one of the activities.

We were supposed to make a dough out of peanut butter and cocoa and powdered milk (and probably some other things, but I don’t remember now).

I made the dough, just as the directions said. I noticed white granules in the dough, but I thought that’s how it was supposed to be.

We made our peanut butter dough bird nests, including some pretzel sticks to make the girls’ look more realistic, and some candy eggs.

Then we attempted to eat the bird nests.

EW.

The white granules (which I figured out was the 5-year-old {maybe older!} powdered milk I used) were crunchy and sort of grainy. The dough was not pleasant at all.

I don’t think it was the fault of the recipe or the author, by the way. I’m pretty sure my powdered milk was too old, soaked up water from the air, and made these weird clumpy granules. I didn’t want to use these photos on my blog to endorse an ebook, and I didn’t get a chance to make new peanut butter dough, so you never got to hear about it.

Sorry about that.

Broccoli Slaw Does Not Double as Spaghetti

I had been having a big old pity party over my un-gluten-ness, and I just wanted a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

I saw something on Pinterest about using broccoli slaw in place of spaghetti, and I thought that was my perfect solution.

Yay!

I could have spaghetti and meatballs!

I steamed the broccoli slaw, topped it with flavorful spaghetti sauce with meatballs, and sprinkled on Italian seasoning and some shaved Parmesan cheese. It looked delicious.

It wasn’t as horrible as some of the above recipes, but this tasted just like broccoli with spaghetti sauce. It wasn’t remotely like spaghetti. That person on Pinterest was full of beans.

The Hot Pink Cupcakes

Last but not least, sometimes the recipes taste okay but fall apart later.

That was the case with the hot pink cupcakes from our All That Glitters princess party.

Allie had eaten one cupcake, and when she asked for a second, I handed it over.

A few minutes later, I found her. She had removed her clothing and smeared the pretty hot pink cupcake all over her body.

That mess went right up the stairs and into the bathtub.

In conclusion, please do not despair when your meals (or your children) go south, when a new recipe tastes horrible, or when something you’ve always liked suddenly turns on you.

It happens to everyone.

Throw it out and go for Chinese food.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

This post is not sponsored by anyone, just so you know.

You know Grace. She has anxieties.

Incidentally, when I was a teenager, our neighbor’s wiener dog had anxieties. They had to medicate him or else he chewed his fur off. How weird is that?

Joe and Grace have been discussing roller coasters a lot. I guess it’s because she has grown tall enough to ride a lot of the roller coasters.

So.

Standing in line at the ferris wheel (which I loathe but always ride because my girls like it), Joe said to Grace, “You’re not ever going to ride roller coasters, right?” and Grace agreed. Then he said to Allie, “I bet you’ll love roller coasters, right?”

She enthusiastically agreed.

I didn’t think about it at the time, but looking back, I wonder what Grace thought about that conversation.

The ferris wheel went around and around (four times, I was counting), and we examined all the water park from a bird’s eye view (it had closed a few minutes before, so most of the water was turned off).

After we got off the ferris wheel, we made our way around the back of the park, toward Grace’s new favorite ride (Music Express, which brings back my memories of Geauga Lake, where the Scrambler, Tilt-A-Whirl, and Music Express were our favorite rides ever. Also, the wave pool. And the monorail. And the Big Dipper. And the antique cars. And more.).

In between the ferris wheel and the Music Express is a wooden roller coaster (called the Lightning Racer).

I don’t know what happened in my brain right as we passed that roller coaster.

“Grace? Would you like to try a little, slow roller coaster?” I asked, assuming that all wooden roller coasters were fairly tame.

“Yes! Is it really little and slow?” She asked.

“NO!” Joe gave me the hairy eyeball. “IT IS NOT LITTLE AND SLOW!”

“Oh. It’s a wooden roller coaster.” I grumbled. “How fast can it be?”

I turned to Grace, “Do you still want to go on it if it isn’t little and slow?”

I expected her to say no. Every experience I’ve ever had with Grace told me she’d say no. I think maybe she felt dared since Joe said earlier that she wouldn’t ever want to go on a roller coaster.

I have to pause to tell you that I swore off roller coasters about ten years ago. I had ridden a couple of them in the same day, and I had heart palpitations and couldn’t breathe and was dizzier than I’ve ever been in my life. I decided that those “don’t ride these if you have a heart condition or high blood pressure” signs might know what they’re talking about, and I stopped riding roller coasters.

Forever.

Until yesterday.

Joe made it clear that he did not want to ride the roller coaster whether it was little and slow or big and fast. No way.

So.

Since I talked her into it in the first place, I took Grace’s hand and marched right into the roller coaster. There was virtually no line. We walked up the (very lengthy) ramp, waited about five seconds at a gate, and stepped into the car.

And then, an announcement told us we’d travel up a 90-foot hill and careen down at more than fifty miles per hour (or something along those lines).

I prayed that Grace wouldn’t know what that meant.

She didn’t.

I leaned over and tried to prepare her for the opposite of little and slow.

“Okay, Grace, so we’re going to go up a big hill, and we might go slowly up it, like click, click, click, and then we’ll go fast down the other side. Okay?”

“Okay,” she replied with wide eyes.

I slid my arm around her waist, preparing for the impending screaming freakout.

She moved my arm back to my own side. “It’s okay. You’re right beside me.”

“Oh, one more thing. When the cars go down a hill, you might fly up out of your seat, but don’t worry. You won’t go anywhere; you’ll just lift up in your seat, and you’ll go back down when the car stops going down.”

“Okay.” She nodded, processing all this and preparing herself.

The cars flew out of the shed, down a hill, around a turn, and up the hill.

There’s nothing slow about the Lightning Racer. It moves fast from the moment it begins to move. Down, around, up, down, around, up, down, around, around, up, down. You know. There’s a lot of moving. Fast moving.

Grace began to laugh before we got to the first big hill.

She laughed as we went up. She laughed as we went down. She laughed as we went around and around, to the left, and to the right.

Lightning Racer has two sets of cars and two tracks, and they run as a race. There’s a big FINISH line, after which the cars slow down considerably. (Our car won.)

As soon as we slowed down, Grace said, “HEY! What happened?”

“The ride is almost over.”

“Oh,” she pouted. I wanted to keep going.

“Uhhh. Maybe you can talk your dad into coming on with you,” I encouraged. It had been fun, but I knew my equilibrium and heart didn’t have another go ’round in them.

She did. I think his ego wouldn’t allow him to decline since I (who gets motion sickness on the carousel) went first.

After Lightning Racer, they went on the Music Express together, then the Whip.

After all that, Joe crawled up the hill with his tongue hanging out.

Not really. But he didn’t look comfortable at all.

It was getting late, and we began the (very long) walk to the front of the park. Along the way, we passed two more roller coasters.

“That’s another roller coaster, Grace. Maybe you’ll want to go on it next time we’re here.” Joe said.

Or maybe it was me.

I don’t remember. Someone pointed it out.

“What’s it like?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Ask the girl at the gate.” I know I said that because what happened next astounded me.

Grace (who never talks to strangers ever) marched right up to the teenager at the roller coaster entrance, and she asked what the roller coaster was like.

“Do you like Lightning Racer?” The girl asked.

“I LOVE IT! It’s my new favorite ride in the WHOLE PARK!” Grace gushed.

“Then you’ll like Wildcat. It’s just like Lightning Racer, but a little rougher,” the girl explained.

Grace walked back over to us and grabbed Joe’s hand. “C’mon, Dad!” She grinned, and they were off.

My stomach hurt for Joe.

He made a point of assuring me that the Wildcat was neither little nor slow.

I stand corrected. Wooden roller coasters can be big and fast, and my older child is no longer afraid of everything.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

A year or two ago, my sister and brother-in-law gave Grace a car washing play set. Ever since, Grace has been dying to wash my car. Finally, last week, Joe got around to the job.

They filled buckets with soapy water, procured rags and sponges, and opened up the car washing kit.

I was inside working when Joe called me on the phone.

“You really should come out here and take some pictures. You’ll probably want to write about this on your blog.”

He was right.

Grace and Allie ran around and around my car, creating suds on every surface they could reach. They were soaking wet, and suds ran down the driveway.

Before long, Allie had a spray bottle (because Joe took the hose away from her), and she was spraying down every vehicle she could find.

Joe’s car was not immune. It got washed, too. So did Grace’s bike and scooter.

It’s a good thing the cats weren’t outside. If they laid down in the driveway, they too would have been washed.

The only problem was that they don’t seem to have rinsed the car. Or maybe they didn’t dry it. The next time I got in it to drive, I had to run the windshield wipers just to see out of the window.

There was no pollen on the car and no dead bugs, but there were spots all over.

Fortunately, it rained a few days later; the car got a good rinse.

I’ll let them wash my car again the next time they ask. They enjoyed it.

I’ll just hope for a rainy summer.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

Something happened this week that is so typical of Allie right now.

One of our cats, Zeus, is testy. He has a giant personality, and he always has. He doesn’t like men at all, and he has always pushed Grace around.

Grace is afraid of him. She won’t walk over him in the hallway; she waits for him to move. If he meows at her, she will jump off the couch, jump out of his way, or jump up onto a chair to get out of his reach. She’s learned that he only talks when he’s mad, and if he’s mad, a swipe may soon follow.

Just today, Zeus and Grace were sitting in our oversized chair with me. I was brushing him (a task of which he does not approve), and he complained. Grace was off my lap and across the room in one step.

When he started purring again, Grace came back to sit in the chair with us. Allie joined the party, sitting on Grace’s lap next to the cat.

I was still brushing.

He cried, voicing protest to the ruffling of his feathers.

Grace gasped, trying to wiggle out of the pile.

Allie sat up straight, looked at me with wide eyes, and squealed, “ZEUS! TALK! TO ME!”

And then she grabbed him around the neck with both arms and hugged and squeezed and rocked his head back and forth.

“Zeus! Nice! Nice Zeus!”

I held my breath, waiting for him to cry again and scratch her, waiting for him to stand up and defend himself.

He never got the chance. It’s hard to scratch someone who’s hugging your neck.

She continued to hug and rock and gush about “Nice Zeus” and “Zeus talk!” for longer than I thought he would allow.

He never made another peep, and he never scratched.

When he’d had enough of her loving, he stood up and jumped down and left the room.

Zeus may have a giant personality, but Allie’s is bigger.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

I would have posted these photos anyway, but this is a sponsored post for Hershey, PA.

Last summer, Joe’s brother gave Grace Hersheypark tickets for her birthday. We spent eleven hours at the park, staying from before the park opened until almost closing time. We all left exhausted but excited for our next Hersheypark adventure.

Shortly after that, we bought season tickets to Hersheypark.

This year, our first Hersheypark trip was opening day.

Allie is too small for a lot of the rides, but Grace is big enough to be her responsible rider for some things. This makes Grace feel very grown up, as you can imagine.

Hersheypark has over 65 rides – everything from crazy thrill rides (like the Great Bear) to little kid swings (which Grace says don’t go as high as her swing at home).  There are rides that everyone can ride together, like the giant historic carousel, rides just for kids, and rides just for adults.

We spend most of our time on the kids’ and family rides, as you might imagine.

When I was about ten, I loved driving my mom and sister around Geauga Lake Park in these antique cars. We’d all pile into one, and Amanda would laugh the whole time.

I remember the smell and the jerky motion of the cars like it was yesterday.

Now it’s Grace and Allie’s turn to pile in and laugh the whole time.

The first time, Joe and Grace sat in the front, and Allie and I sat in the back.

The lines were short, so we immediately jumped back in line so that Allie could drive her own car. Joe said she turned the wheel the wrong way the whole time. (Fortunately, there’s a rail that keeps you on the track.)

Of course, Grace couldn’t ride while Allie drove. She had to drive her own car, separately.

Allie fell asleep not long after we arrived, so Joe and Grace rode some grown-up rides like the Whip and the Music Express. (Can you tell that the ride isn’t moving?)

After Allie woke up, we had lunch. I was pleasantly surprised to find gluten-free pizza available by request at the pizza shop. There were other gluten-free options too, according to the park map.

After lunch, we set out to ride the girls’ favorite rides.

Since I’ve gotten older, I can’t ride many of the fast, exciting, grown-up rides, so I stick with the things the kids like (for the most part).

We all love this steam train. It’s in an old time pioneer area, and in the fall, they decorate it for Halloween.

I love that the family and kids’ rides are sprinkled all through the park. If they were all in one place, we wouldn’t get to see the whole park, but we cover Hersheypark from one end to the other, stopping here and there for rides and shows.

Grace and Allie both love the seal and sea lion show. It’s not to be missed, especially if you have kids.

We all like the Ferris Wheel and the Monorail, both rides for the whole family.

Joe and the girls rode almost all the kiddie rides. Grace is getting a little too big for some, but she still rides along with her sister.

There were so many things to do that we didn’t get to all of them on opening day. There wasn’t enough time, and the girls got too tired.

Grace especially was dying to visit ZooAmerica (included in your park admission), but I told her we’d do that another day. You can get into it from Hersheypark or go just to the zoo through its separate entrance.

I’m hoping to get there every week or every other week all summer. It’s important to me that we take a break and spend time having fun as a family.

Hersheypark also has motorized wheel chairs available for rent, so my mom is going to try to come with us to the park. The girls and I are really looking forward to that.

I participated in a campaign on behalf of Mom Central Consulting for Hershey Entertainment and Resorts. I received a promotional item as a thank you for participating.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.

Need to entertain your toddler for an hour?

Give her a bottle of glue and a box of buttons.

Okay, it might not have been an hour, but this was definitely the longest-lasting activity Allie has ever done.

It all started because Grace was working on her rainbow button craft, and Allie was not content to be left out. I spread some glue on a piece of paper and gave her a handful of buttons.

There is something amazing about a pile of buttons, whether you’re 2 or 35. They’re all different sizes and shapes, colors and finishes, weights and materials. Some have shanks, and some are completely flat.

This was a fun art project, but it was also a nice sensory experience and fine motor skills practice. Chubby little two-year-old fingers have to work pretty hard at handling the smaller buttons.

Safety note – This is not a good project for toddlers who still mouth things. Pay very close attention. Buttons can be a choking hazard! 

At first, she was content with this situation. She picked through her buttons, declaring them pree! which I can only imagine means pretty.

When she ran out of buttons, I gave her another handful. She stuck them into the glue one by one.

And then she decided that she didn’t have enough glue.

This part made me a little twitchy.

Allie grabbed the giant glue bottle from the middle of the table, and she began squeezing blobs of glue onto her paper.

“No, Allie! You just need a little bit of glue!” I said, taking the bottle away.

She didn’t seem to mind that I’d taken the glue. It was more about making some puddles, I think, than about who controlled the bottle. She was happy to stick some buttons into her puddles.

Eventually, she declared her picture finished and threw all the rest of the buttons on the floor.

Her picture is hanging on my china cabinet with Grace’s masterpieces. It may not be much to look at, but it’s her artwork, and she’s proud of it.

I think it’s really important to display kids’ artwork in your home (even the ugly ones). Seeing their work on display gives them a sense of confidence and importance that saving it in a drawer or box just can’t provide.

© 2013, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.