Behavior Boot Camp

If you've spent more than 2.5 minutes with my kids, you know they can be, uh, rambunctious. They're often loud, boisterous and, well, loud. When we come by, we don't just visit, we invade.

There have been many drives home when I tell the kids how embarrassing their behavior had been. They don't watch where they're walking, they interrupt grownups when talking and they are prone to bouts of rough housing just about anywhere the mood strikes.

I've been struggling with this behavior ever since the twins were three. I have tried timeouts, taking away privileges and spanking. While their behavior, like any kids, will peak and valley, I have felt lately that their peaks come fewer and farther between.

Don't get me wrong, they can be lovely sometimes. They can be polite, helpful and downright sweet. But I'm not blind. I know there's room for improvement.

One morning, on the commute to work, Mark and I took stock of the situation. Together, we'd implemented Operation Mommie Dearest with great success. Dinnertime complaints and poky eating had dropped significantly.

If we can lick those dinnertime tantrums, we can lick this.

So we analyzed the situation and developed a strategic plan:


BEHAVIOR BOOT CAMP

Goals:

1. The kids will learn to play nicely, either together or alone, quietly.
2. The kids will learn and display self-control, which will end their rambunctious behavior.

Tactics:

1. Reduce the amount of screen time in the house.
   We realized that once we turn off the TV, the kids typically spring up and off the couch with loads of pent-up energy. Within minutes, they're either wrestling, arguing, or acting wild. By reducing couch time, we hope they'll expend their energy evenly and not in wild bursts.
   
2. Develop chores for which each child is responsible.
   By giving the kids new responsibilities, we hope to foster maturity and create more opportunities to praise and reward positive behavior. Daily chores include alternating table duty (setting/clearing the dinner table) and keeping shoes tidy and clear from the front doorway.
   
3. Enforce a "Hands Off" rule.
   The kids are always touching each other. Sometimes it's sweet, like holding hands, and other times it's, well... not. A hug can escalate into a headlock in seconds. So that's why we're now simply saying, "hand's off."
   
4. Alter our discipline approach. No more warnings.
   This sounds harsh, but it's really not. I used to count to three or give a few chances to redeem oneself before doling out discipline, but what's happened is the kids now wait until the last second or just before they lose a privilege before obeying my request. Now, they need to act the first time asked in order to avoid the consequence.

It's been a week since implementing Behavior Boot Camp and we've already had remarkable results. The kids' behavior is much more civilized. They have begun playing nicely and have adopted the chores without complaint. I think they like the idea of having responsibility. It makes them feel valuable and important.

I think every parent loses control of their kids every once in a while. Even the sweetest kid has moments when they turn into a screaming banshee. Admitting your kids need work is hard and recognizing that some of your parenting tactics to date have been unsuccessful is even harder. For a while I felt like a failure. I failed myself and I failed my kids.

But now, after seeing the initial results, let me tell you, regaining control and imparting peace and relative tranquility makes it worthwhile.

Scooby's mullet.

So remember how Crowbar got a Chia Pet for Christmas?

We set him up a week or so ago:

Aww. Look at the children smearing slimy goo all over Scooby.

And he's now started sprouting hair. Sadly, it's not filling in as nicely as one would hope.

Ruh-roh!

Sorry, Scoob. Didn't mean to give you a mullet.

And the craziest thing is that the grass grows in the direction of the nearest window. So up close, it looks like his mullet is blowing in the wind.

Bubble & Squeak.

We're still keeping cooking fun over here, trying new recipes and pulling out old favorites.

We celebrated Thanksgiving in January, feasting on a 13-pound turkey Mark's parents gave us. (They emptied their fridge and high tailed it for warmer weather when we hit that arctic cold snap.) We enjoyed roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and all the fixings -- and then nibbled on delicious leftovers the rest of the week.

My Keep Cooking Fun recipe was a twist on an English dish called Bubble & Squeak. Traditionally made with cabbage and sausage, we followed a Food Network tip and used leftover mashed potatoes, turkey and peas.

Basically you combine all your leftovers, patty it up and fry it in a skillet.

While the oil bubbles, the concoction actually makes a squeaking sound.

The English aren't exactly known for cooking light.

The verdict. This was definitely not something I'd make everyday, but overall, it was pretty yummy. Four spatulas.

High roads and hangovers.

Remember when you were young and dumb and after a night of drinking too much would wake up in a foggy haze and slowly remember bits and pieces of the night before that made you feel sick with regret because the things you said and did were SO AWFUL and could only be made worse by a crushing hangover?

I do.

I remember (or barely remember) having a horrible fight with my roommate once. I said horrible things to her and then said horrible things to our friends behind her back. When I woke up the next day, sick from too much red wine, I felt worse recalling how petty and awful I'd been.

I also remember that day, vowing that I'd never again let myself get that out of control or that out of line. I promised myself to try my best to take the high road whenever possible. And that by doing so, I'd avoid the hangover of guilt and regret that lasts days after the alcohol-induced one wears off.

I was recently talking to a co-worker about issues with my ex-husband. He's a good guy, but is full of good intentions that never seem to materialize. Despite the fact that he's relatively successful professionally, his personal life is a mess.

Seeing as he's the one who left me with the lion's share of responsibility for our three kids, I have a right to be angry and hostile. I would be justified finding some satisfaction in watching him fail. And, if I held his past mistakes (as awful as they are) against him and didn't ALWAYS let him see the kids whenever he wants, I seriously doubt anyone would blame me.

But, instead, I've vowed to take that high road. And I'm doing it as much for me and my peace of mind as I am to let my kids have the best chance at a healthy, fulfilling relationship with their dad.

In fact, I spent an hour on the phone with him last night, talking about school work and orthodontics, trying to help him feel connected to and informed about his children. Our children.

I know my relationship with him is a marathon, not a sprint. I know I've got at least 15 more years of serious co-parenting left to go. And then, we'll enter a new chapter together. We'll learn how to stand side by side and smile at our children's' weddings, our grand kids' baptisms and, God willing, our great-grand kids' births.

I know that someday, I'll look back and be proud of how I carried myself. I'll be proud of the way I chose to parent - and co-parent. And I'll have few regrets for the choices I've made. I will have avoided a decades-long guilt hangover. And I'll be glad.

Elation.

37 days, 16 hours and 41 minutes. That's how long I've gone without a dishwasher.

And, if my math is correct, I've spent roughly 31 hours and 8 minutes washing dishes by hand since early December.

This has seriously put a damper on my New Year's resolution to keep cooking fun. Cooking in and of itself has been a blast, but cleaning up after dinner has bitten it big time.

So, imagine my pure elation when we got a brand new dishwasher installed last Friday.

The newest addition to our family.

In this house, the kitchen is MY room. I spend almost all my waking hours there, preparing meals and folding laundry. And I can't stand it when it's messy. So that means I washed dishes every single day to keep it clean. And that, my friends, has taken a toll on me.

There were times when I didn't think I'd make it another day. In fact, just last Tuesday, when we were promised installation the following Thursday, I had a near breakdown:

I just can't do it. I can't wash dishes tonight. We've got to go out. Don't make me stand at that sink tonight!

Lucky for me it was Kids Eat Their Height Night at our favorite restaurant and we could spare the $1.57 it'd cost to feed the kids. (Plus the pint of Blue Moon it'd cost to calm my nerves.)

But that's all behind me now. Hilde (yes, I named it) is in charge of washing the dishes now, leaving me to better enjoy preparing meals.

And last night, as I lay in bed, I was lulled to sleep by her gentle whooshing sound. As she worked, I dreamt of leisurely evenings spent reading to my kids instead of standing at the sink. And nail polish - thousands of different shades - that I'd be able to start wearing again.

Pure bliss.

Surprising sources.

Keeping cooking fun for me means trying new dishes. While there's no shortage of recipes floating around out there, it can be tricky to find ones that are:

1. Inexpensive to make.
2. Healthy, yet kid friendly.
3. Fairly easy - meaning, they don't require more than 8 or 10 ingredients, too many dishes and pans, or take more than 30 minutes to prepare.

Mark and I are addicted to Food Network and love to watch the TV chefs prepare amazing meals - but I wish that just once, I'd see someone make something with ground beef.

My sis-in-law, Bees, is an awesome cook and once, after I went on an on raving about her Greek Cous Cous Salad, she let me in on one of her little secrets.

Look for the recipes on the labels of different foods.

Turns out, her amazing salad was a recipe she found on the back of the cous cous box. She may have varied it a little, but she used the box's recipe as a starting point.

Building on this idea, I now look for different manufacturer's websites for recipes. Many of them have great recipe-builder tools that allow you to check off ingredients you have on hand to find recipes.

My latest find comes from the Rice-A-Roni folks. Their Recipe Wizard tool is pretty neat. I used it to make their Fajita Skillet Supper, which ended up being pretty good. And I paired it with my own ho-made cheese quesadillas.

Fajita Skillet Supper

Toasty quesadillas from the broiler.

The Verdict. In the end, this recipe only earned 3 spatulas because it was a little on the bland side. (Usually rice mixes are salty, but this one wasn't.) I'll definitely make it again, but next time, I'll add some spices and maybe even some diced jalapeno.

~ ~ ~

PS - I know I've been bad about updating Seriously Skinny blog, but it's not because I haven't been doing well. I've actually been working out and have kicked a bad habit. You can read about it here if you'd like.

Kids say the darnedest things.

Like telling another kid to “shut your pie hole” at the after-school program --- all within earshot of Mean Miss Donna, no less.

Mad Dog maintains that she didn’t know it was bad – she thought it was just a funny sounding word.

And who can deny that? I think pie hole is of the funniest words I’ve ever heard. In fact, I giggle whenever I hear someone use it. I know, totally juvenile, but I can’t help it.

My ex and I used to argue over which was funnier: pie hole or its close cousin, cake hole. Personally, I always found cake hole a little boorish. Pie hole, on the other hand, seemed to have a little more to it. Lewd? Yes, but somehow, a little more discerning.


It is important to note, however, that I NEVER use this kind of language around the kids. EVER.

So, when Miss Donna pulled me aside and clued me into Mad Dog’s infraction, I was caught completely off guard. I think I let out an uncomfortable combination snort-laugh and, after seeing the look of horror on her face, assured Miss Donna that language like that was certainly not permitted at our house. I blamed TV and told her we’d be reevaluating which shows the kids would be allowed to watch.

When we left, Mad Dog apologized and said she had, in fact, heard the phrase on TV.

“So it's a swear word? They can say swear words on TV and we can’t say them in real life?”


She had a point. There's so much said on TV that's borderline. And I'm not talking about prime-time network pushing limits. I'm talking about kid-oriented TV shows like Total Drama Island, 6Teen and other daytime shows on Cartoon Network. After watching a few episodes of these shows, the girls started walking around claiming they're into "goth" and calling themselves "pre-teens."

Girls, you're eight. You're actually post-babies.

Anyhoo... I tried to explained that there are some words that aren’t technically swear words, but are still bad. Even though they sound funny, they have naughty meanings and we’ll get in trouble if we say them at school, church or around grandparents.

I think she only half got it.


Despite the fact that I feel like a total hypocrite for banning pie hole in the house, I had to. I've since banned the offending TV shows and have really been harping on the importance of using kind words instead sketchy ones to make a point.

Banning pie hole means I had to reach down deep, past my affinity for the word fuck (it's just so versatile!), find my inner grown-up, and lay down the law -- even if it means being hypocritical.

And, I'm going to try hard to shut my own pie hole when it comes to swearing.

Proud Mama.

I am one proud mama: The Deuce, one of my eight-year-old twins, has developed a new-found appreciation of I Love Lucy.

It started when she was sick last weekend. It was 1 a.m. and she couldn't sleep. Bleary-eyed, we flicked on the TV. While I was looking for kid-friendly programming -- specifically, something that wouldn't make me want to gouge my eyes out -- I stumbled across an I Love Lucy marathon on the Hallmark Channel.

Initially, she protested.

"Let's watch Pokemon," she begged.

I asked her to give it a chance. I explained to Deuce how important Lucille Ball was for gals like us*. That Lucy was a trailblazer for funny women. And that she was the first female comedian to hit it big on TV -- ever.

Though she was skeptical at first, by the end of the second show (now 2 a.m.) she begged me for more. We watched Lucy and Ethel accidentally cook 700 lbs of beef in their furnace and Lucy beg Ricky to let her be in the show down at the club. We were about to begin show #3 when, I reluctantly turned off the TV so we both could get some sleep.

The next morning, when Mad Dog and The Deuce flipped on the TV, the Lucy marathon was still on.

"Let's put on Cartoon Network," said Mad Dog.

"No, let's watch Lucy."

"Huh?"

"Lucy. I Love Lucy," she explained. "It's a new... uh... old show Mom showed me. It's really funny."

Like her sister, Mad Dog initially wrinkled her nose at the old, black-and-white show. But after a few minutes, I could hear them giggling. They watched several episodes back to back.

Over the course of the week, I heard Deuce tell others about her new favorite show. Whenever she'd mention it to an adult, they'd get a big smile and give me an atta-girl look.

"It's really funny, Grandma. You should watch it some time."

I guess that's when you know you've made a difference in the life of a child.

~ ~ ~

* In high school I was voted Class Clown. At the time I was a little disappointed. I would've preferred to get Most Likely to Succeed or even Best Legs, but now I know it was a good thing. And it seems that Miss Deuce is likely to follow in her mother's footsteps. Just this past parent-teacher conference, Mrs. P. told me Deuce is quite the class cut-up. My girl knows she's funny and if given the opportunity, will go for the big laugh - every single time. Just like her mama.

Keep Cooking Fun Recipe: Cocoa Ripple Ring Coffee Cake

Keeping my resolution to make cooking more fun, I pulled out a recipe my mom used to make when I was a kid. It's a basic coffee cake, but the secret ingredient is a packet of hot chocolate mix.

As a kid, I totally loved it. So, I was excited to make it for my family this past weekend. What made it fun was I made the kids guess what the secret ingredient was. When I told them it was hot chocolate, they were pretty impressed.

Cocoa Ripple Ring Coffee Cake

Preheat oven to 350. Grease bundt pan. Cream together the following ingredients until they are light and fluffy:

• 1/2 cup shortening
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 eggs

In a separate bowl, mix together:

• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 2 tsp baking powder

You'll also need 1 packet of hot cocoa mix (to be added later).

I only had cocoa mix that had marshmallows, so I had to sift them out.

Next, you need to combine the wet and dry ingredients, along with 2/3 cup of milk. It's best to add them alternately. (A little dry and then mix, next add a little of the milk and then mix, then a little more dry, etc.)

Once combined, spoon 1/3 of the batter into the bundt pan. Sprinkle in some hot chocolate mix, then layer on more batter, using the spoon to spread it around. Try to get 2 layers of cocoa. Smooth the top with the back of the spoon.

Bake for 35 minutes and then let it sit for 5 minutes before turning the cake out of the bundt.

Viola. The finished product.

Crowbar, enjoying a slice.

The verdict: It was good, but I think it could've been sweeter. I seem to remember it tasting more chocolaty when my mom made it. Next time, I'll do 2 packets of hot chocolate and see if it's better.

So, on a 5-spatula rating scale, this recipe earned a 3.

Resolutions. For realsies.

A few weeks ago, Mark volunteered to make dinner on a busy weeknight. I was thrilled to take him up on his offer because I had a ton of other stuff I had to take care of - homework to check, baths to give, laundry to fold.

When he entered the kitchen, he rolled up his sleeves, cranked the radio and began to sing and dance as he prepared our meal.

Normally, the sight of a grown man singing his heart out to CCR and chopping onions would make me laugh, but to be honest, it annoyed the hell out of me.

I know. I'm a total bitch.

Instead of being appreciative that he was helping, I was resentful. I thought to myself, "Oh, how cute. Cooking is still fun for you. A special occasion. Try doing it every night. See how fun it is then."

I kept my nasty thoughts to myself, but stewed over it for the rest of the night. Still feeling sour, I mentioned the incident to my good friend, G, the next day at work.

I was all, "...and he was dancing around, having a blast. Try cooking 7 nights in a row. I'll bet it's not so much fun then."

I fully expected to get an "Amen, sista!" G's a busy single mom who has often commiserated with me on the stress of working all day and then coming home to cook and clean all night. I knew I was being petty and whiny, but if anybody would understand where I was coming from, it'd be G.

Instead, she turned on me.

"So what's the matter with you?" she asked. "Why don't you turn on some music? Why don't you make cooking fun too?"

Damn.

"Girl, quit your boo-hooing. You have to cook every night, right? You owe it to yourself to make it as fun as possible."

G was totally right. Why not turn cooking into a fun activity instead of a dreaded chore? So, thanks to G, here's my big New Year's resolution:

In 2009, I will make cooking fun again.

Here's how:

• Reorganize my kitchen/supplies (and then keep them neat and tidy).
• Crank the tunes.
• Try new recipes and dig up oldies but goodies from the past.

I jump started my plan immediately. I restocked staple ingredients, reorganized my cabinets and rearranged my spices. Before, everything was a mess, making it tough to even see what I had on hand. Now it's all nice and neat and I know exactly where everything is.

Another big change is that I moved my computer near the kitchen, so I can listen to Pandora while I work and have quick access to AllRecipes.com, one of my favorite recipe sites. And, if one of the kids wants to use the computer while I'm making dinner, I'm close enough to supervise and be part of the action. Before, I felt like I was in solitary confinement, all alone in my galley-style kitchen.

These little changes have already had a big effect. Instead of feeling confined to the kitchen, it's beginning to feel like a special room to me.

I promise to share some of my fun recipes and stories with you. And if you've got some fun/tasty/semi-kid-friendly recipes for me to try, lemme have them. I'll give them a whirl and will post the results here.

Back-up plan.

With the economy in peril and an increase in unemployment, Mark and I decided we needed to come up with a back-up plan in case one (or both of us) lose our jobs.

We have relatively safe careers - I'm in corporate communications and he's in HR - but in hard times, nothing is safe. The company I worked at just 3 years ago made some pretty steep layoffs before the holidays and I'm certain that had I'd still been there, my job would've been one to go.

So, our New Year's resolutions include making a back-up plan. Here's what we've come up with:

1. Bulk up our savings.
2. Update our resumes.
3. Get online degrees in criminal justice.

Yes, #3 is probably pretty surprising, especially if you know either of us well, but we've decided that if the corp. comm. or HR things don't pan out, we need to be able to fall back on a different career, as bail-bond agents/bounty hunters.

We came to this decision after watching a Christmas Eve marathon of Dog the Bounty Hunter on A&E.

Mr. & Mrs. Dog (on their wedding day) - our inspiration.

Here's what we're going to do:

Mark is going to start going to the gym ASAP. He needs to begin bulking up in order to properly intimidate bail jumpers. He'll also grow his hair out into a decent mullet, which I'll help him braid into cornrows. He's still picking out his tattoos and figuring out where to place them. Once that's done, we'll replace his wardrobe of V-neck sweaters with leather vests and then sign up for a couples package at the local tanning salon.

For me? Two words: Boob Job. I can't run a successful bail bonds office without one. I'm also going to bleach my hair to a respectable platinum blond and start wearing acrylic nails. I'm going to slowly phase out wearing turtlenecks and start introducing plunging necklines and tube tops to my wardrobe.

You may think this isn't a very family-friendly career, but you're wrong. The whole family can get into the biz, as we learned watching the show. The kids would be perfect helping on the surveillance side of bounty hunting. (Nobody would suspect them.) And the twins can help me bleach my hair each week.

Now, I'm not saying this thing will pan out for sure, but it's good to have a back-up plan -- just in case.