Olive you

I do not like olives. Black, green, minced, whole -- they are the pits, as far as I am concerned. My kids, on the other hand, love them. They will eat even the most exotic of olives, popping them into their mouths with abandon (and, of course, spitting the pits). A bit of an odd choice for 3- and 5-year-olds, to be sure.

I see this as a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because now if we go out to eat, and my salad has olives in it, I have willing recipients. A curse, for a few reasons: 1. Fattening, 2. Expensive, and 3. Pizza. Yes, pizza. The only kind of pizza they want is olive. Not even pepperoni!

I can usually convince them to do the half and half pizza order, which works until we get to leftovers. The kids eat less pizza, so the leftovers are always olive. That means I don't want any. And I love leftover pizza, reheated on my pizza stone in the oven. But leftover olive pizza, blech.

I need to convince myself that this has health benefits for me. If I eat less pizza due to lack of leftovers, I will substitute healthier fare and be the better for it. That's my Spin Mama take for myself. So, thanks girls! (I think)

I love knock-knock jokes, the explanation for my heading:
Knock, knock
Who's there?
Olive
Olive who?
Olive YOU!

Quilt problem all stitched up?

Our quilt crisis may be solved. We didn't plan it, it just happened, and it was way simpler than I imagined.

Previously, I had thought we might be able to have Jellybean's heirloom quilt/security blanket repaired by a seamstress or quilter. My quilting neighbor graciously invited me to bring the quilt to a quilting circle. All of the ladies there examined the quilt closely, and the consensus was that it could be repaired, restored and redone, but it wouldn't be the same. For one, it would lose its softness from being hand-sewn and "loved" by so many children (it was L's and his brother's before it was Jellybean's). That would be significant, given that she sleeps with it every minute.

So I was pondering elaborate scenarios like leaving it for the "quilt fairy" to take and having the quilt fairy replace it with a new quilt -- similar to what some people do with their pacifiers. I hadn't come to a decision about the whole thing.

Then, a couple days ago Jellybean woke up in the morning and told me her quilt was wet. Her Pull-Up had leaked (yes, we're having this problem again) onto the quilt a bit. So, I took it away to hand wash it, and of course it wasn't dry by naptime. So I grabbed an organic cotton blanket we have that I LOVE, and had it on Jellybean's bed for naptime. I was ready for a mini-crisis about the blanket and prepared to explain that she'd have it back tomorrow, etc.

Instead, she saw the blanket and exclaimed, "Ooh, look at the new blanket! Ohh, it's so soft..." So, thinking quickly on my feet (for once), I went with it, and told her she used that blanket when she was a baby, just like the quilt, and that it was very nice to sleep with, etc. My sales pitch held her for naptime.

After her nap, I told her that the quilt was getting too worn out and it was time to put it away... I was flinching for her meltdown. Nope. No problems.

So, now I feel like a crazy woman for having worried about what to do this whole time. Then I remind myself that it has only been three days. The other shoe could drop at any minute. However, I never thought she could be in bed without her quilt for three minutes, let alone three whole days!

The quilting ladies will be so happy I've preserved that quilt. And I'm happy to have rescued an heirloom from its steady decline.

Analyze this

My kids definitely have brought out the best in me most of the time. But over the years, I have discovered I had been harboring some pet peeves that I had no idea I possessed -- until I had kids.

I have overcome some of these pet peeves in just a short time. It didn't take me long to get over my aversion to clutter, for example, when our tiny house (at the time) was packed to the gills with a baby play gym, swing, bouncy seat, and on and on. And that was just in the living room. Now that there are two kids flinging their toys about the (albeit bigger) house, it's a darn good thing clutter doesn't get to me anymore.

I also have grown to enjoy naked babies running around the house instead of wincing in anticipation of any leaks they may spring without a diaper on. We've had leaks of all varieties, believe me, and it turns out that although a bit gross, they're pretty easy to clean up. Having hardwood floors doesn't hurt in that regard, either.

So, which pet peeves have I clung to? Two of them come to mind.

1. Damage to books. Tearing pages, bending covers, dog-earing, all make me crazy. If I even have an inkling that a book is about to suffer, I swoop in immediately and take it away. The only way I can explain this is that my grade school librarian must have scared the bejesus out of us for doing anything to the school library books. Board books have saved me many a time.

2. Toys missing pieces. I was an only child and fairly orderly. I always knew where all parts to all of my toys were. I would be appalled at other kids' houses when their puzzles were missing pieces or toy sets were lacking a vital component. How could they let that happen? Well, now as a mother of two, I know that it can (and does) happen all the time, even when we're being careful. However, I just can't seem to get over hating it. I'm hoping time and desensitization will foster a cure.