Tips from the Trenches: A Guide to Practical Parenting

Life changing advice, really. Where's his blog?

This one is short and sweet, but VERY important to your family's ability to afford food....

Make sure that your children understand that OnDemand movies COST MONEY before they are old enough to find OnDemand on their own.

School lunch is an interesting topic. I doubt too many people would agree that the nutritional value of school lunch is, at least at times, pretty questionable, but it is convenient and cheap. (Isn't that what the fast food giants say, too? Interesting.)

My son and I used to have daily debates about lunch that involved me checking the published menu and negotiating whether or not he would take lunch. By the time we brokered a deal, I'd spent more time on talking about lunch than I would have spent making it.

So, I started making it everyday only to find him coming home with the healthiest parts leftover in his lunch bag. Then, I would spend each day pointing out what he should be eating instead of what he was eating since they don't bother to teach nutrition in schools while it matters the most. (Hmmm, obesity problem? Why not educate them early and often? But that's another soap box.)

After two years of honing my methods, I realized that my lunch strategy was simple AND effective! Basically, my lunch tips come down to two issues outlined below with my suggested solutions. So here goes:

Problem 1: Child doesn't want to eat school lunch.
Solution A: Progressively make home made lunches less palatable.
Solution B: Hide the food so that every once in a while you can say "I don't have anything to give you. You'll have to eat at school today."

Problem 2: Child doesn't eat the most nutritional parts of the home made lunch. (Why do those pieces of fruit or the carrots always come home?)
Solution: Slightly underfeed the child so that he/she is hungry enough to eat everything. Works every time!

Be sure to offer a nutritional snack at pick-up or as soon as he/she gets home. See here for tips on providing healthy snacks.

Happy eating!

Oh, dear. What happened? Some time between now and 2 weeks ago, I dropped off the planet into a hyper-speed time warp. (I hope that is a reasonable fictional Sci-Fi reference. My IQ drops at least 50 points in the presence of SCI FI-ese.)

Anyway, it all started pleasantly enough when I took my 6-year old to the dentist. It was one of the proudest moments of my life. Then, I took him to school. Went home. Went back to pick him up. Found him with a mouth stuffed full of tissue paper trying to assuage the bleeding in his cheek.

Turns out he mutilated his cheek while it was numb. It is still unclear whether or not it was an act of defiance (the dentist warned him!), ignorance (did he not listen to the warning?), or just stupidity (did he choose to IGNORE the warning and big, fat do it anyway?); but either way, it was a major mess.

The good news, I think he'll think twice before refusing to brush his teeth. The bad news, 10 days of antibiotics (3X per day) and Tylenol with codeine, a face that I thought would never un-swell, and some pretty dramatic scaring on the inside of this cheek.

So, anyway, that was bad. Yes, but the fun continues.

The next trauma was watching the murder of my beloved laptop ("it was an accident"). I say murder, but really it was more like it slipped unknowingly (but firmly) into a coma from which it would awake.

Upon receiving an estimate (that cost me $120!) of $805 to fix it, I dug deep in my soul (read: wallet) to consider the hard questions in life. Ultimately, I decided that I believe in socialized medicine so I said a prayer and turned off life support. Rest in pieces, Pink Sony Vaio. You will be missed.

Fortunately, I also believe in reincarnation, capitalism, and the kindness of family. New Sony Vaio on the way! Thank you, Black Friday! (Oh, and my superbly talented, frugal, and technically savvy genius of a brother who located the right buy at the right time. Yeah!)

On the bright side, instead of wasting my time on Facebook, I read 6 books.

Wait, not done yet.

On Tuesday, I went to pick-up my son from school locking the door behind me. Upon returning 20 minutes later, I find that the lock has broken in the locked position. So, after calling the landlord who called the locksmith who called me back who came to drillout the lock, the kids and I stood around for about 2 hours waiting to get in to the house.

Because, it turns out, my door is 2 1/4" thick (not the standard, I guess) the owners need to either replace the front door OR order an expensive custom lock. So until that earth shattering decision is made, I'm left with a lock that only works from the outside. (So, I can get in, but once I'm in I can't lock it or get out if it is locked.) All I need now is a Lo Jack and I can start logging some house arrest time, just in case. (I believe in being efficient...should I ever need to do some time under house arrest.)

Oh, and then there was Thanksgiving. No more explanation required.

Finally, last night we promised the kids that we would take them to see the fantastic Christmas lights display at the local botanical gardens only to have my 3-year old daughter throw-up in my ear as she was being loaded in to the car to go. This resulted in the cancelation of the promised trip and a cross between enraged freakout and the silent treatment that only an experienced 6-year old can administer. Not to mention, a nasty mess to clean out of my ear which is quite a bit harder than it sounds.

Because I'm supposed to be offering tips or other handy parenting advice, here are the learnings from this crazy month:

• Never take your child to the dentist. It is MUCH easier if you just let their rot and teeth fall out.
• Don't be too quick to judge socialized medicine. It works!
• Never lock your doors.
• Always keep a supply of antibacterial gel (any brand) and Q-Tips (not the cheap, generic kind) in your car, bag, and/or pocket. Always.

Today is another landmark day on my parenting skills calendar: the day my 6-year old sat patiently and in extremely good humor while the dentist filled cavities in his teeth.

After learning 2 weeks ago the he needed several cavities filled, I've been almost paralyzed by fear of his reaction to the process. He has not had a great amount of success with probing, specialist treatments even though he is always cooperative at the doctors for basic stuff. Add to that the potential for his first grade peers to tell him about their experiences. I knew I was in for trouble.

Let's overlook the negligent parenting involved in the development in the cavities in the first place for a minute and bask in the florescent glow of the dentist's bulb so that I can pass on my tips for prepping a child for the visit to the dentist.

While I didn't harp on the topic, I did spend the past two weeks prepping for the big day and I think it paid off, so here's what I did:

• First, I made VERY clear that he should COMPLETELY IGNORE everything that anyone, especially his friends, told him about going to the dentist. I told him to call the person a liar, cover his ears, then to scream and run away
• Then, I told him that it DIDN'T HURT, but that he would feel a pinch near his teeth and that this was only to make the fun stuff happen...the fat, sense-less lip.
• I explained that the doctor would put something on his gums that would make his mouth feel stranger than he'd ever flelt before, that he would not be able to smile properly, and that he would talk with a really silly lisp. I told him, in theory, someone could punch him in the cheek and that he wouldn't feel a thing (until it wore off, of course.)
• I imitated the screeching whir of the "cavity remover" (i.e. drill) and said that he shouldn't be worried about it as long as he didn't move.
• I also reminded him to close his eyes so that the water didn't splash his eyes.

When the big day came, he said that he was a little, tiny bit nervous, but he approached the magic chair with poise and charisma. Forty-five minutes later, he walked out with a mouth full of fillings and a fat lip. I was so proud.

The last thing I told him as we were heading out the door was that I had to pay exorbitantly for him to have so much fun and that I couldn't afford to do it again with Novocaine so he needed to BRUSH HIS TEETH!!!!!

Seemed to work like a charm. Whew! Hope he doesn't come home with a peer-induced fat lip.

How many times a day do your children ask for a snack? Once, twice, three times, more? Well, with two kids it's double the fun. One snack is two. Two snacks is four. And on and on and on and on ad infinitum.

Well, I've recently figured out something that smarter parents probably figured out ages ago. A new level of conditioning in the Pavlovian experiment we call "parenting". Here's how it works.

Each time your child asks for a snack, tell him/her that he/she can get it or he/she can wait for you to get it. At first, this will seem like a no-brainer to the child who will usually decide to wait rather than interrupt his/her "project". (As long as he/she doesn't have to wait too long mind you. And, in this one instance, you should not make him/her wait.)

When you get the snack, provide the child with a small, ultra-nutritious snack. When the child complains, and he/she will, let him/her know that he/she can have another snack once the first snack is finished. At this point, the child should dutifully eat the snack.

When the child comes back for more, say the same thing. "You can get it yourself or I will in a minute." Repeat the process from the first snack. (Small, ultra-nutritious. Another snack may be had after the given snack is finished.)

Repeat as needed until the child is full or realizes that he/she can get a better snack if he/she does it him/herself.

Once you have established this fact, the second part of the plan is to make the junk food increasingly hard to reach so that when the child gets his/her own snack, the only option is the "healthy" stuff.

Congratulations! You have now gained yourself at least an hour a day back in your life. Don't you feel younger already?

In cases where you are forced to throw toys in the inside trash because of inclement weather or similar, be sure to "top off" the trash can with a gooey, slimey mix of last night's dinner leftovers, used teabags or coffee filters, and perhaps something like jello, rotten bananas (unpeeled), or gravy. This will help repel the efforts of even the most ardent of resident dumpster divers.

You may also want to break any unbroken toys destined for the dumpster. This will give you additional argument for elimintating the toy should it be found. In some cases, just letting a younger sibling play with the toy will make it useless enough for the trash.

It has been a very long day at our house. Instead of going out, I opted to stay home and get some things done. This is a very rare occurrence in our house, so around 2 o'clock this afternoon, everyone was getting completely stir crazy. The problem was that I didn't want to leave. I was in the tidying zone and that doesn't happen often.

By 3 o'clock, I was subjected to a nearly constant stream of "Mommy, I bored" or "Mommy, this is not fun." Hearing this once is bad enough, but a full on assault every few minutes quickly made me wish I were a violent person. Who was it that said the best cure for boredom is Mommy boredom? I think they are so wrong. So wrong, in fact, that I'm thinking of taking out an ad in all the major parenting mags to let everyone know that he/she is a liar.

I was completely baffled by how to address this problem. My frustration was quickly stumping my creativity. On principle, I didn't want to give in and take them out. I also didn't want to have to turn into the family entertainer.

So now I'm looking for advice. How do you respond to this scenario? Are you as flummoxed as me or do you have a fail safe response? I have a feeling that this will not be the first time I am confronted with this and I want to fill up my parenting toolbox with as many chainsaws and power drills as possible.

I'm going to take a giant leap in logic here and hypothesize that most of the people who find themselves at Tips from the Trenches are, in fact, parents or are likely to soon become parents.


Because Tips makes every effort to be both compelling and useful, I thought I would take a few precious minutes out of my busy schedule to bestow upon my reader(s) some wisdom regarding efficiency.


Today, while I was multi-tasking on the porcelain goddess, it occurred to me that it might be useful for us to share some things that we do to be more efficient. Some of these things are pretty benign, but others are just pure parenting genius.


Here are some things I've a learned through trial and (lots of) error:

• Never go anywhere without something in your hands that needs to go where you are going. Empty hands=wasted trip.
• Never just sit on the potty. Get dressed. Brush your teeth. Remove nail polish. Clean out your handbag. Pay some bills. Send e-mail (but be forewarned that any multi-tasking around water with electronics is particularly risky). Also, it is not preferrable to talk on the phone, but I guess that is up for debate.
• Never ask your kids to do something that you may as well just do yourself. (Remember, we are talking about efficiency here. Not overall parenting prowess.)
• Never take the kids with you. Anywhere.
• The pool is considered both fun and a bath.
• Never vaccuum under anything. Out of sight. Out of mind.
• Never manually wash your own car. The kids will only want to "help" and a trip through the automatic car wash can be an excellent disciplinary tool.
• While dropping fully clothed children in the tub may seem like an efficient way to get clothes and kids clean simultaneously, it isn't. Been there. Done that. (The problem is that laundry powder is not suitable for their "tender" skin. Blah. Blah. Blah.)
• Instead of ironing wrinkled items, it is more efficient to throw them in the dryer while you get on with something else, such as, well, just about anything is better than ironing really.
• Buy uncomfortable furniture. The less they want to sit, the better chance you have of finding a place without wasting time on arguing about it.
• Always wear a bra or panties with strong elastic. Strong elastic can hold a surprisingly large amount of stuff. Since we didn't grow and extra arm when we were pregnant, this is a great way to get a third hand.
• Never carry something when you can throw it.
• Tidy up only once a day. After bed time. I know this probably sends shivers down the baby soft skin of many of your souls, but really. Efficiency is important. How else will you get time for Facebook?

OK, I'm spent. Please, please, please, share your efficiency tips. Think of it as your "green" act for today. Efficiency is very ecologically friendly....did you know?

For those of you who know me, you have probably figured out that I don't predict results particularly well. I'm habitually clumsy and am often surprised when disaster rears its ugly, vicious, fire breathing head. I've even, through extensive research, scientifically determined that in an emergency, I most likely would go out in a panicked blaze of unpreparedness.

Which brings me to a "quiet" morning (about 6 weeks ago) at the top of my stairs. I was listening to the kids peacefully discuss whose fault it was that the walls got accidentally painted in green Crayola paint while thinking about a lovely dream I'd had the night before where I was on a plane crashing in to the North Pole (must be thinking about Christmas shopping already). I'd just arranged to drop my kids with my MIL so I could get some errands done at lightening speed in preparation for our 2-week beach vacation in three days which also happen to coincide with my son's sixth birthday. (The numbers alone are staggering.)

It was then that I started my tenth leisurely stroll that morning down the stairs. I didn't think I was unusually distracted, but that's what I get for thinking, I guess. The next thing I remember was a nasty popping, cracking sound accompanied by a wrenching, ripping, popping sensation and MEGA PAIN! I was lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs calmly reviewing my emergency preparedness plan while screaming some of my long lost-to-parenting favorite words.

It took a couple of seconds before I realized that my kids were standing in the doorway looking a little worried. The problem was I was alone with 2 young children and I was totally out of my mind in pain.

Lucky me, I'd fallen near my handbag. I was able to extract my newly acquired iPhone and began to call by EMT brother for advice. I was pretty sure I'd broken my leg in half, but I very reasonably wanted to check with him first. (I was very calm, you see.) When he didn't answer, I called just about everyone else in my phone. No one was answering. I was starting to sweat because of the pain. The only thing I could think of was that I didn't want to call my sister-in-law because she just started her job and it would not be good if she had to leave unexpectedly.

After not being able to reach my husband who was a 2-hour drive away, I decided that calling my SIL was the only option. Of course, she answered on the first ring. And, of course, immediately came to help. She was able to get in touch with my EMT brother who told me to call an ambulance. Which I did.

Then, I realized it was time for a little damage control. I smiled bewitchingly at my children, explained that I had fallen down the stairs (duh!), that I thought I'd broken my leg (duh!), and that they were not to worry because I'd called an ambulance and both Uncle Hugh and "Tato" were coming to help. I also slipped in a mention that they were not to repeat any of the new words they might have learned that morning.

It was at this point that I realized my front door is both locked and ridiculously hard for me to open. All at once, I knew that I couldn't do it and it would be almost impossible for my son. I was imagining the fire department showing up and breaking down the door to get to me lying gracelessly at the bottom of the stairs surrounded in packing materials from our move a few days earlier.

Fortunately, my son understood the importance of what he needed to do. (After I explained it, of course, in response to the "but I can't" complaints.) Just in time, he was able to turn the key and yank the door open as the ambulance, my brother, and his wife pulled up.

It turned out that the paramedics didn't think it was majorly broken and they were able to wheel me down the front steps to my brother's car in an odd wheel chair contraption so he could take me to the ER and they could get on with helping people who really needed it. After a surprisingly quick ER trip, I was booted, crutched, and returned to the ever patient hands of my children who were none the worse for wear. (Except a near paralyzing fear of the stairs, that is.)

To make a short story even longer, here's the moral. Plan a little. Even a teeny, tiny bit. Many of us, especially if you are a military spouse, spend enormous amounts of time alone for extended periods (days, weeks, even months). Prepare yourself and your kids for when something "out of the ordinary" happens. Explain what they would have to do if an ambulance arrived at your house one day. Let them know that an "official" (Child and Family Services) might be responsible for getting them to a family member safely if you cannot drive them there yourself. Show them where the phone is. Discuss your emergency plan with people upon whom you expect to rely for help. And, above all, remind them that they should always wear clean underwear and mind their manners.

Never, ever, ever, ever go on vacation for 2 weeks without first making sure your 2-year old didn't place a half-eaten banana in the trash can after you took the last batch of trash out.

Fruit flies don't need much food to survive, they don't live long, and the fornicate like, well, like fruit flies.

Now, please, submit your tips for ridding of them.

...And it isn't the kiddie pool.

After playing on the beach for a while, we decided to check out the pool on the way back to our room. We saw it on our way out and knew exactly where to go as it was beautifully exposed to the entire hotel populous. Full of people greased-up and cooking like fresh vegetables on a hot, fat-free olive oil Pam-sprayed skillet.

Like a good hotel guest, I read the "Rules of Entry" sign and noted rule number 1 was "No One Under 18 Allowed!" Huh!? I gasped. After pointing this out rule out to my husband who was queuing (with my son and daughter) to get in, an "Over 18 Guest" pointed "over there" to a thick grove of trees. "The family pool is over there. The kids will love it." Uh-oh, I thought.

So off we trekked back in the direction from whence we came. We burrowed around the hedges and thickly fauna-ed "wall" to locate a long line of "We may be over 18, but our kids aren't" folks waiting to get wrist bands to gain access to the pool that was deemed hidden or remote enough for them.

At first, I was insulted. What's wrong with us?, I considered. (Or at least, what's wrong with us that is so obvious that would prevent us access from the other pool.) Then, I looked around. Hey! I thought. This is where my peeps have been hiding. Apparently, the "Over 18 Pool" was code for "The Pretty People Pool" because all of a sudden I was at home in a veritable sea of imperfection! Hurray!

I guess once you have kids running your life, you no longer have time to look pretty sunning by the pool In fact, for 10 minutes, I simply counted mismatched swim suits: 31! Incredible. These people were so overwrought with their parenting responsibilities that they couldn't even match a bikini/tankini/T-shirt/sun cover-up top with an appropriate and similarly coordinating bottom.
Not only that, but those who were greased-up were cooking like Thanksgiving turkey with all the fixings. And, those who weren't laughed freely at my "Rock Lobster" jokes.

The kiddie pool is a beautiful thing!

Over the past few weeks one phrase has become very popular at our house. My nearly 6-year old son believes that he is now equipped to make all decisions for himself. He thinks that the end to all arguments is to say, "I make my own decisions!" and storm off in a sulky huff (with the recent addition of firmly shutting his bedroom door behind him). I thought I would have at least another 6 or 7 years before this became a serious concern in my daily life.

On top of this, my son and 2 3/4-year old daughter just can't seem to give each other a break. Lately, we've been in a power struggle, particularly over property rights, and I'm starting to get worried about witnessing Cain & Abel take place on my Cheerio-covered living room floor.

Everything is "Mine! Mine! No, mine!" all day long, it seems. What makes it worse is that now my son yells out (at the peak of every argument), "It's mine! I make my own decisions!" To which my response is "Actually, it's mine! And I make ALL the decisions." Today, that caused both kids to storm off in a huff to their own rooms which turned out to be fine because I got some quality Facebook time in peace.

Anyway, I know this response isn't helpful (unless I want to spend all day on Facebook, of course). My only defense is that I'm driven to it. I don't really think I do make all the decisions. Not only that, but I don't want to make them. Decisions = work. And I have enough of that already.

Not only that, but this puts me, as a parent, in a very tricky spot. After all, the consequences of dealing with this situation could affect whether or not I have a 35-year old, jobless, son living at home with me. I do want him to make his own decisions. And, yes, I even want to give him room to make some bad ones. After all, one day I won't be there to make all his decisions for him. But, I don't think I'm ready for that yet. Even if he is.

I don't often pat myself on the back, especially for things such as organization prowess or parenting skill, but today I think I really deserve some kudos.

I have a habit of carrying around random items in my bag or in the stroller "just in case". Items include things like the standard parenting items, such as wipes, Bandaids, crayons, pad of paper, and leash; and often some less than traditional items, such as super glue, magic erasers, light bulbs, powdered water, etc. One day I even acquired a small, super absorbent towel that professional swimmers use to dry off.

While the standards get used frequently, it is not too common that I get to use the more creative or insightful objects that I pack. Until today....

It started simply enough with a trip to the BX. Emma in the stroller, for a while. Running down the sidewalk for the rest of the time. She was wearing my most-hated child (and adult) clothing item...Crocs. (I like to call them portable death traps.) Anyway, she tripped, fell, and grazed her knee. Out came the wipes, the anti-bacterial ointment (on my key chain no less), and the Bandaids.

Once I cleaned her up, we stopped to get the mail at which point the bug she had picked up on the last leg of the walk bit her hand. Out came the wipes, the Benedryl spray, and another Bandaid.

Then, it was on to the BX for some stuff. Diapers. Play Doh. Toilet paper. Workout clothes. The usual stuff. While I was looking for the right sized diapers, Emma pulled on a plastic shelf-thingy and snapped it. (Don't worry. It wasn't for sale. Just part of a display rack.) Oops! Out came the Super Glue.

On to the food court for lunch. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, Emma located the crayons in my bag and took them into the play area. While I was contentedly enjoying some "peace" (suspiciously quiet, with 20/20 hindsight) and eating my lunch, Emma was creating some beautiful artwork on one of the walls concealed by the climbing apparatus. Crayons in trash. Out came the magic eraser and, finally, the cleaning wet wipes (for all surfaces!).

At this point, at you can probably imagine, we felt compelled to leave. So we loaded up the stroller, topped-off our drinks, and began our trip home. Since you can't go anywhere here without seeing people you know, and it was the busy part of the lunch rush, I immediately ran in to a line of people I know waiting to place their orders at Pizza Hut. I, being the super social person that I am, stopped to engage in some skillful small talk.

Now this is where it gets really good! This is the action that put me in line for my "Prepared Mother of the Year" badge.

Emma turned abruptly knocking her full drink on to the floor. Sweetened iced tea everywhere. But no worries! With nary a pause in the conversation and under the eye of some parenting-inexperienced young military men and some parenting-experienced mommies, I whipped out my super small swim towel and lay it over the mess. Absorbed the tea. Picked up the ice. And with a smile, moved on.

Really, I expected applause, but the shock on the nearest young airman's face was enough. It was, perhaps, the most graceful parenting move I've ever made, I don't mind saying. Unfortunately, I expect it will be the last, so I will revel in the glow of my finest achievement for at least another 24 hours. Don't worry if you see me and I'm floating on Cloud Nine. Just congratulate me and get back to what you are doing.

Now, where's my badge?

I've spent literally years of my parenting life eating crow. In fact, I've developed an especially tasty recipe that I thought I'd share.

1. Find something about which you feel passionately. It is often helpful if it is something other parents routinely do "to survive" (so they say) and which you have not experienced first hand.
2. Take a stand.
3. Broadcast your position LOUDLY and CLEARLY on the playground or other socializing venue.
4. Blow off the nay-sayers with appropriate disdain. It is especially delicious if you pepper your disdain with statements such as "how could they?" and "I would never..."
5. Post your position on Facebook.
6. Season with sangria or other "beverage".
7. Sit in the sun for 20 minutes at 80 degrees and have a sanctimonious moment. Do not over bake.
8. Remove from heat. Let cool.
9. While cooling, whip up a small amount of doubt. Place on one side.
10. While waiting for the food critic to arrive, cut pie, top with whipped doubt, and serve. Best served same day, but equally delicious at any time.

I'm going to return from my blog strike for a few minutes to provide some tips to help military families plan a move. Where we live, PCS (moving) season is in full swing. The buzz about next "duty stations" is in the air and words like "TMO", "movers", "pack-out", "house hunting", "orders", "school records", "overseas clearance" are being tossed around like they are food in a junior high school cafeteria.

Through years of experience, I have developed a list of useful tips for you to use during your next move. So listen up! I don't like to repeat myself and I might not come back if my strike continues to go badly. (Still waiting for some jokes or something.....please.....save me...I'm drowning in bloggy Hell.)

When you get the news:

• The first thing to remember is that the move will happen with or without you. Planning is pretty much a waste of brain cells so keep all planning to a minimum.
• When you are informed of your move, don't bother reacting. Try to avoid saying, "You want me to move where?" or "Are you &%!$ing kidding me?" Save your emotions for the actual moving process. You don't want to wear out your anger, crying, and frustration supply before the movers even get there.
• Don't believe anything they tell you until you have orders. (And, even then, it's safe to call the TMO, but not safe to buy a house.)
• Never, ever, ever, ever tell your kids you are moving until you are on the airplane. Remember, things can change at any time. (This is especially true if you are trying to leave Korea.) I've found the best thing to tell them is you are going on a "really long vacation soon" and "if we really like it, perhaps we won't even come back." That leaves it comfortably open-ended for everyone.
• Don't buy any items that might "be useful" at your next duty station. It does NOT pay to plan ahead. Examples of bad purchases may include cold (or warm) weather gear, electronics, cars with the steering wheel on the alternate side to the one you already own, and travel books. Remember, if you buy something that isn't useful at your next duty station, you also will NOT be able to sell it there.

When the movers come:

• Place both the pets and the kids (with food and water, of course) in a locked bathroom. Be sure to turn off the water to the toilet, just in case.
• Fill a backpack with all your valuables and wear it throughout the entire moving process. Do not put it down for even a second, even while sleeping, as it might get packed, unpacked, stolen, or otherwise destroyed.
• Make sure you are wearing shoes so they don't get packed.
• Empty your trash can. Movers are notorious for packing trash. (Not kidding.)
• Stick bright colorful stickers that say "Pack me at your own risk!" on anything you would like to keep from the packers. (But don't count on it working for everything. Put those things in your backpack.)
• Ask the movers to put the new inventory stickers on top of the old ones. That way when you pull the sticker off, they will all come off together.

Traveling to your new location:

• I've covered travel before....here. Nothing's changed there.

Upon arrival:

• Arrive in the dark. New places always look better in the dark.
• Tell the kids that you like it and think you will stay if Daddy (or Mommy) can find a job.
• Stay in a hotel. Don't get creative and think you can sleep on the floor of the new home you were not supposed to buy until you arrived.
• Don't forget to unpack the pets. They hate being left in the car.
• Don't forget to unpack the kids. They hate being left in the car.
• Remember, a little Benedryl never hurt anyone on the first night of a new place with jet lag. (Hotels have bathrooms with locks, too, if you are one of the crazy people who are morally opposed to drugging your kids.)

OK, back to my strike. Scabs! All of you!

In March, I posted about how to explain the common obstacles of military base living to your kids. Since then, a few more tips have come about and I want to make sure I share them with you so you can put them to good use.

• "We're not allowed to take the strollers by the Patriot missles. We'll have to go around."
• "No, the Giant Voice isn't God. It's just a recording."
• "Which way is north? Well, you see those missiles over there. See where they are pointing? That's north."
• "That guy down there? Which one the one with the gun or the one with the binoculars? Oh, he's just looking for someone....and him? He's just playing sniper today."
• "Oh! Don't those explosions make it sound a bit like a bowling alley in here."
• "I don't know why that guy is lying in the middle of the street. Perhaps he's looking for bugs."

Again, I hope this provides a useful service. If you have questions or need suggestions for handling your unique situation, please let me know.

Had a couple of food science discoveries today....

1. Over-ripe, but still safe-to-eat bananas left in backpacks take approximately 3 weeks to liquefy. If treated carefully, the skin will not rupture and will contain the liquefied banana. Banana daiquiri, anyone?
2. Fresh milk left in a sippy cup for 9 days will end up having the consistency and smell of cheese. End product not taste tested.
3. Fresh juice left in a sippy cup for 9 days will have the consistency of jello and smell of grain alcohol. Make your own Jello shots. End product not taste (or safety) tested.
4. Starburst jelly beans submerged in muddy water take approximately 2 hours to disolve.
5. Sticky rice left on clothes and put through the laundry (washer and dryer) will adhere to clothes forever...better than Super Glue.
6. Apple hand lotion does not taste like apple butter on toast. (Nor does it taste like chicken.)
7. Jello pudding makes excellent window paint. (Comes in various colors.)
8. Fossilized block cheddar makes an excellent crayon substitute, especially on walls.
9. Frozen peas that are left to dry out on the floor can be quickly reconstituted and fortified in muddy water.
10. There is no such thing as too old to find palatable in the eyes of a toddler.

If I can learn all this in one day, imagine what I'll learn by the end of the year.

One of my favorite things to do is to create useless theories about nothing and so here I go. This is not the first time I've likened parenting to raising animals and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last, but today's discussion revolves around leaving the room and wild dogs.

Today, I left the kids unattended so that I could go and get dressed. Horror of horrors! What was I thinking! I literally walked across the threshold of the bedroom and a screechy, piercing, "you wronged me" scream hit me in the cerebral cortex and radiated instantly down my spine.

"Not even 5 seconds! How is this possible?" I asked myself. Then I realized, the alpha-(fe)male-well, maybe the beta-(fe)male-has left the pack unattended and now the remaining dogs are fighting over who gets to take his/her place. The problem is that they both know that it's not always the stongest, biggest dog that wins. Sometimes it's the smaller, faster one. This means the battle for superiority has to be quick and decisive with a good healthy dose of shock and awe.

Unfortunately for me, it means many days of dressing in the living room, but I have discovered a few things that marginally delay the pack instinct for long enough to make it to the bathroom on occasion or to turn on the kettle to boil (but probably not enough time to fill it with water first).

• Bribery
• Blackmail
• Threats (only effective for very quick trips up to 15 seconds)
• A loud hair dryer (if a tree falls in the woods and a hair dryer is on, does the falling tree make any noise?)
• Pre-emptive time-out
• Lollipops or "silencers" as we call them in our house (as long as no one has a better color than the other)
• Inappropriate television shows or movies
• The Transformers theme song

That's about it really. I can usually make it through the day with these tactics in my parenting toolbox. Some times I have to use a blender or vacuum in place of the hair dryer for a little extra shock and awe on my end. But, for the most part, I can get an extra 30 seconds of peace for each tactic implemented in my campaign to dress in the privacy of my own bedroom. That's a whole 4 minutes of "me time" every day. Can't beat that, can you? Oh, wait....I forgot that I gave up privacy and peace the day I got pregnant.

Sometimes when you are a parent of small children, you are lucky enough to be admitted to the hospital. When you win the parenting lottery and this happens to you, it is best to be prepared.

I recommend packing a bag ahead of time so that you will not have to think while you are in pain. Grab and go is the best policy here. Some things to include in your bag are:

• A "Do Not Disturb" door hanger for your room. Just let the nurses know that you will buzz them when you need them and you do not want to be interrupted unless they are bringing you meds or your pizza delivery.
• Your computer so you don't miss out on valuable Facebook and blogging time. (Be sure to ask about the availability of Wi Fi in advance.)
• An updated list of your local food delivery service phone numbers. Call ahead to find out what they need to be able to deliver to the hospital. Sometimes this may require a "tip up front" arrangement to give them some incentive to work the complex hospital heirarchy.
• Your favorite personal items, such as lotion, nail polish, manicure set, make-up, etc.
• Reading material (Non-parenting related items are recommended. After all, you don't want to be distressed while you are "healing".)
• iPod with your favorite entertainment and games.
• A soduku puzzle mag. This is best used after you've taken your meds.
• Your best silk jammies (as long as you don't expect to have weeping wounds during your stay).
• Your favorite snacks and beverages. Room service is sometimes a little slow in hospitals. In addition, most hospitals will not serve alcoholic beverages, so pack carefully.

To get the most out of your spa treatment, call the nurses for any and all needs irrespective of their apparent importance to the nurse. After all, this is your time. Don't lose sight of that goal.

Be sure to ask if they have a physical therapist who can massage your bed sore muscles. Many hospitals provide this service and will happily bill your insurance company for you. No tipping required.

Get plenty of rest. This might be your last opportunity for your entire parent-cy. After a day or so of attending to your every whim, it is likely that you will have easy access to all sedatives required for maximum sleepiness.

Finally, be sure to fill out all your forms before you have your manicure. You wouldn't want to sacrifice beauty for bureaucracy.

And, don't forget to put the spa treatment on your list for Mother's Day! You never know.