Tantrums R Us

Sean has developed an adorable new habit. Tantrums. If anyone had asked, I would've happily told them that Sean was the easiest child I'd ever had. From the time he was born, he was a dream. Terrible twos? Not my Seany! 

And then he turned three. (Cue the foreboding music.)

My perfect little Sean has been able to muster a decent tantrum at a rate of about twice a week for the last month or so. Sean, being Sean, he really likes to excel at everything he does. This means that a proper tantrum involves screaming, yelling, stomping, crying, and turning all shades of red. He actually gets to the point of losing complete control of himself. I'm fairly certain that he's lost all touch with reality when he's in the throes of a monstrous meltdown.

For the most part, the other kids never really threw too many tantrums. That's not to say it didn't happen. Lucy once cried for four hours straight when I refused to buy her a toothbrush at the grocery store. (Don't let her quiet nature fool you - that girl is stubborn as hell.) Granted, I've developed a weird sort of parenting amnesia as each child progresses past certain stages, but I can't recall any of the kids going through this tantrum phase for any length of time.

There is a recent event that inspired this post. Last Friday, after I dropped the three oldest children off for school, I asked Sean if he wanted to go get a snack. We popped into our favorite little convenience store so I could grab a coffee and Sean and Charlotte could get a treat. Normally, this treat is a muffin, donut, or a granola bar. While I poured my coffee, Sean and Charlotte had stumbled upon the Devil Dogs. I almost caved in and said yes to the Devil Dogs when Sean quickly tossed the package back and ran to the ice cream freezer. 

Any other day, I could've told Sean that we don't eat ice cream at 8:30 in the morning and he would've agreed. Not this day. Apparently, being told no ice cream meant it was time to channel his inner Linda Blair.  He turned all shades of red, stomped and shouted about wanting ice cream. While there wasn't any head-spinning, it was still a fabulous show for the entire store. 

I was very proud of myself. I told him sternly that he could choose another treat or get nothing at all. He continued to pitch a fit while I calmly finished preparing my coffee and picked out a snack for a very bewildered Charlotte. I went to check out, trailing a tiny monster behind me. The poor cashier tried to tell Sean that ice cream would give him a tummy ache. At this point he'd lost all touch with reality and just screamed. There were lots of stares. I could have shut him up instantly with an ice cream, but he's got the wrong parent if he thinks that's going to happen.

So... I ignored him. He tried to block me from leaving the store, but, I pushed right past him. The parking lot posed a new problem, however. Sean decided to try to run back into the store for the much-coveted ice cream. Safety-wise, ignoring him was no longer an option. I put Charlotte on one hip (while holding my coffee in that hand) then scooped Sean up around his middle with the other hand. There's nothing like a flailing child to kick off the day. I wrangled the kids (and the all-important coffee) and grew an extra set of hands to fish the car keys out of my pocket. Then I unceremoniously threw Sean (not an exaggeration) into the car.

Once Charlotte was safely buckled, I asked Sean (who was now crying on the floor of the backseat) if he needed a hug. Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was hug the little brat child, but I knew he needed help coming back to reality. He fell into my arms and settled right down. He was then able to agree that ice cream is not a breakfast treat and that he shouldn't have carried on the way he did.

While I still haven't ruled out demonic possession, I'm hoping this is just a normal (and fast-moving) three year-old phase. Anyone out there have any tantrum-stopping tactics? Or the number for a priest who does exorcisms?

P.S.

I was going to add a picture of Linda Blair from The Exorcist, but I scared the crap out of myself when I Googled the images. I'm still way too freaked out by that movie. I blame my parents for making me watch that at such a young age.

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St. Paddy's Day

I love St. Patrick's Day. I'm only a bit Irish (thanks to my mom's dad), but being a good Boston girl, I know that everyone is Irish today. Growing up I spent a lot of time in my grandmother's kitchen. Even though she was English, she almost always had her radio tuned to the Irish music station. She knew all the words to those songs and would sing along while she baked something yummy (from scratch). Hearing the music now brings back fond memories of my childhood. Plus, I just love a good fiddle. Throw in some beer, and I have a grand holiday on my hands!


Seeing as we have two Patricks in our house (and my kids are quite a bit more Irish than I), we do like to celebrate the day. Inevitably, we gather up a crowd and head to whichever local establishment has a.) live music b.) corned beef and cabbage (for my mother-in-law & myself) and c.) a table big enough for our whole clan (my kids just haven't learned to elbow for room at the bar, yet).


I'm always proud of myself when I can sift through the piles of laundry and manage to find something green for all seven of us to wear. Trust me, it's a true feat. And off we go to pay homage to our heritage by wearing green, listening to music and eating a boiled dinner...

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Charlotte & Lucy hanging on the dance floor

Cheese!

My boys!

A family tradition: falling asleep 
amidst deafening Irish music!

We couldn't plan it if we tried!

Juju, Patrick & Pop-pop (& a very large hat)

My girls!

The Cake Beast

I finally decided to make a blog specifically for the cakes. I have a few friends (okay, just one) who don't use Facebook, but want to show my cakes to their friends. So, I needed a new place to showcase the cakes. Considering that I make at least one cake a week for someone, it was probably about time. Here's the link. I'll be posting some cake pictures to the blog soon. 

The Cake Beast

If you're wondering about the name, there's a page on the blog that explains it.

~Lissie

Transcendence

There was an evening last week, that prompted me to develop a new mantra. "Rise above." We had been eating dinner as a family, but the kids were very antsy. One by one, they finished their meal and asked to leave the table to go play. At that point, I didn't much care what they did as long as it didn't interfere with me finishing my dinner. (Please, if you know what is good for you, do not get between me and my food.) 

As PJ and I sat there enjoying the rest of dinner, chaos was unfolding around us. They were jumping, running, tagging, and wrestling. Which quickly led to yelling, fighting, crying, and screaming. The noise level was ridiculous even for a house with five children. It certainly wasn't the norm for dinner time. PJ and I just looked at each other and shrugged. We decided that they were going to have to work it out and we continued enjoying the meal. We came to the realization that, as long as there was no bloodshed, we were going to rise above the noise and pretend that we were eating in peace. 

I'm sure that most people would have been absolutely horrified by the scene, but we figured it was a battle that we would lose. We chose not to fight. The kids were tired and cranky. The only solution for that would be an early bedtime. So we ate our dinner and tuned out the nonsense. (Which, trust me, was a super-human feat.) As soon as we were done, we ushered them off to bed.

We'll just have to be sure to remember this night if we ever decide to throw a fancy dinner party. Which is, of course, super-likely. (Do they make a "sarcasm" font?) In lieu of hors d-oeuvres, we'll pass trays of ear plugs.

Watch me chant serenely while my kids scream like fools...

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Censorship (or lack thereof)

As a child, my parents never really censored the things I watched or read. It wasn't an unlikely occurrence for me to beg to watch a scary movie like The Exorcist, only to end up crying and asking why they made me watch that. We all loved horror films growing up in my house. Unfortunately, I have an excellent imagination. Add that to my love of reading Stephen King (starting in third grade) and you get one screwed up adult who can be seen running through the house in the middle of the night if I have to pee.


Take the movie Poltergeist, for example. I'm fairly certain I saw that at the ripe old age of five. Thanks to that, the clown scene is forever etched in my memory. My family thinks it's hysterical that I am scarred for life. 

This is the magnet I found on my fridge when I got home from work. Thanks, big sister!

You will surely never find any clown dolls in my house. I'm not even too keen on the American Girl Dolls (thanks for taking me to see Child's Play, Dad).

Seriously. Who would buy this for a child and not think it would try to kill them?

You had to know this was going to happen!

The Stephen King habit hasn't helped, either. My dad has always been a huge King fan. I'm sure I was trying to impress him or emulate him when I picked up 'Salem's Lot in third grade. I even brought it to school as my personal reading book. Now, being a teacher, I can see why Mrs. McLaughlin sent me to other teachers' rooms to show them what I was reading that day. Like I said before, I have a great imagination and Stephen King certainly knows how to write a compelling horror story. In 'Salem's Lot, the vampires will come scratching at your window in the middle of the night. These aren't sparkly, handsome Twilight vampires. They're undead bloodsuckers waiting to kill you. So, when I'm in my kitchen at three in the morning getting a drink, I am surely not letting the cat in as he scratch, scratch, scraaaaatches at the sliding glass door. I can't even open the shade even though I know it's hopefully him. Sorry, Frank the Cat. You're out for the night.

It might be the cat, then again, it might be this creepy kid.

If you enjoy the idea of me running through the house in terror, why not become a follower? Just don't buy me a clown. You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

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Cake favorites

I like to bake. One of my favorite things to make is birthday cakes for my children. Whenever we have a birthday, I post the cake picture on Facebook. One day a Facebook friend who I hadn't seen since grade school asked if I could make the Ariel cake for her daughter and she would pay me. I had never considered making cakes for money. It's since become that thing I do (at 3 am). It's not really a profitable business as each cake takes so much time (I have no training) and so many ingredients (I bake from scratch), but I really enjoy doing it. I've made over one hundred cakes, but I picked out a few of my favorites below:


**UPDATE: If you want to check out more of my cakes, visit me at my other blog - The Cake Beast.

Bob the Builder - he was my first cake & a little jaundiced.

I've made 7 Ariels - thankfully, people have started asking for other princesses, too.

Lucy wanted a "funky girl" birthday cake and I had to learn how to make a fondant bow.

I copied my niece, Regan's "Hippie Chic" decorations for her cake.

A special request from my other niece - unicorn farting a rainbow. She's a little whacked.

I copied my stepsister's wedding invitation for her bridal shower cake.

My boss bought these decorations for her brother's 50th.

This is the disco cake I made to match the plates.

A golf cake for my stepdad.

A special request. For my birthday, I'd like a Harpoon IPA cake. 

My friend - who happens to be an adult - LOVES Hello Kitty. This is her birthday cake.

Sophie's Angelina Ballerina cake for her 3rd birthday.

Sean's 3D Thomas cake. It had a little lean to it, but it tasted good! Rock candy "smoke."

Super Mario...

...with "mushroom" cupcakes to match.

A karate cake for a karate party

A cake for a Wild Kratts fan.

Patrick had a Star Wars birthday.

I struggled with the Scrabble cake!

A cake for some Boston College graduates.

Sean's wild animal 1st birthday.

Lucy's butterfly cake

Patrick & his buddy had a joint birthday and agreed on a basketball cake.

A Fourth of July cake

For a Harry Potter fan - copying the font was tricky!

Patrick wanted a black widow on his cake. I hate spiders. It was a challenge!

I made cake in a bowl to make the spider 3D.

Charlotte had a tiny christening cake to go with her tiny birthday cake on the same day. Poor 5th child.

So, there are a few of my favorites from all of the cakes I've made. If you're looking for me, I'm probably in the kitchen, covered in buttercream at three in the morning.

If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

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Take-out

Lately, I just can't seem to get my act together. The day-to-day craziness that is my life has taken over. I start each week with the intention of being better prepared (remember my resolutions?), and by Monday night, it's just not working. One of the areas that has completely fallen apart is dinner.


I actually really enjoy cooking. Last year, I was great at planning the week's meals, making a grocery list, and having PJ do the shopping on Sunday nights. This meant we would have nice, home-cooked meals most nights with a night or two for take-out or dining out thrown in to spice things up. This year is a different story entirely.


Monday rolls around and I realize that I have just what I need to pack lunches. During the day, the back of my mind is working on what I could make that would be quick and easy. I try to figure out the logistics of going straight from work to the grocery store and still make it to the babysitter's in a reasonable amount of time. By the time the end of the day rolls around, I toss that idea out altogether. Once I get home, I've come to the realization that it's going to be another take-out night.


Take-out is normally a fun, easy alternative to dinner. When it becomes a staple, you've got problems. We are lucky to live in an area with a multitude of take-out choices. Unfortunately, I'm fairly certain we've exhausted them all. 


me: What do you want for dinner?
him: Not pizza. We had pizza last night.
me: Chinese? 
him: No. I had Chinese for lunch.
the kids (shouting from the other room): Chicken and fries!
the kids (still shouting): No, Five Guys!
the kids (fighting amongst themselves): I don't like burgers!
me (ignoring the ruckus): Thai?
him: Well, if you get Thai, I'm getting Indian.
the kids (screaming): We want white rice!


Keep in mind, this conversation lasts for about an hour. By the time we actually come to a decision, we're creeping into that time that should be reserved for baths and stories before bed. For most people, take-out would be a quick and easy solution for dinner. Instead it has become the bane of my existence. My goal for the week is to make a few home-cooked meals. At this point, it's just easier. 


Or, I could just break out last night's Chinese, Sunday's pizza and Saturday's chicken pad thai for a multicultural smorgasbord. Bare minimum, I should probably serve dinner in disposable containers so I don't confuse everyone too much.

Please, give me a roast chicken or some stew...

If you enjoy the blog, why not become a follower? You can also stalk find me on Facebook and Twitter. Like the page and follow me!

P.S. I have completely neglected my Top Mommy Blogs account. Click that cute little brown button on my sidebar to vote for me...

And don't forget to visit my Zazzle store. You know you want some!