Can you hear it? That RETAIL BEAT?!

It's been far too long since I've offered a new edition of The Retail Beat. Given that these endless days of April rain don't make for happy blog fodder (unless you like whining), I've opted to share some recent favorite products we are enjoying Casa MEP. It may be wet at the playground, but it's generally dry inside the grocery store.

Here goes:

Hot and Sweet Mustard from Trader Joe's: It's hot. It's sweet. I find it adds a pleasant zing to my sandwiches. And if a pretzel happened to fall into some of this mustard, well, I'd be happy to rescue that pretzel.

Breakstone's Zesty Blends Roasted Garlic & Herb Sour Cream: First, roast some potatoes. Then, dip them in this sour cream. Repeat. Potato chips would do in a pinch. This "zesty blend" was a recent and pleasant discovery at the Jewel. I also noted that there was a Chipotle blend, and I think I remember seeing a Jalapeno one as well. Was BOGO the day I was there, NTB, so I bought one of the roasted garlic and one plain reduced-fat.

Method Wood for Good: If you are lucky enough to have a dining room table that is used daily for meals and snacks and doubles as a "home office" for two adults, you might find yourself needing to wipe that table down multiple times a day. That chore is a pleasure with Method Wood for Good. Feels more cleaning-ish than typical, foamy dusting spray and has the most awesome almond scent that even my husband has favorably commented upon. I buy mine at Target, but I think other stores carry Method as well.

WARNING!!!! I am a big fan of Method cleaning products, but I recently tried two different varieties of the Antibac cleaner. I'm usually in the "if you can't say anything nice ..." camp, but in case any of you go hunting down Wood for Good, I want to suggest you skip the Antibac. It probably gets things very clean and sanitizes well and all, but it does NOT smell good. I like cleaning products to smell good.

Let's get back to food now.

Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Cream Cheese Spread: A facebook friend mentioned her love for this product in a status update, and I knew I'd have to track it down. Lucky for me, Trader Joe's is five minutes from my house and one minute from Bub's school. This peanut butter cream cheese is delicious. Dip some pretzel twists in it, and you have an ideal sweet and salty snack. I made some brownies last week and covered them with chocolate frosting. When, as I was falling asleep that night, I realized that I could have covered them in a layer of peanut butter cream cheese and then the frosting, I wanted to kick myself. Next time.

Ben and Jerry's Late Night Snack: I don't watch late-night television so I missed the announcement of this Jimmy Fallon-inspired ice cream. I heard about it at the hair salon, checked for it every grocery store trip for five weeks, and finally found it this past weekend. Let me walk you through it: vanilla bean ice cream, salted caramel swirls, and chunks of chocolate-covered potato chip. Get. Right. Out. Of. Town.

On a semi-related topic, I'm curious to know if anyone has a "healthy lifestyle" plan that is working for them these days?* And, of course, any favorite things in your house? Please share in the comments.

*Moderation does not tend to work for me. I need some rules.

DISCLAIMER: I paid for all of these products with my own money and am writing about them because I thought you might be interested. I was not asked to write about them or compensated in any way to endorse them.

Sleep Seminar: The "Crick-quel"

Back in the fall, I offered my readers a comprehensive instructional guide for getting 5-6 (non-consecutive) total hours of (semi) restful sleep each night. If you are seeking to cut back on your sleep, you might consider revisiting that post.

These days, I am getting 6-7 hours* of sleep, NTB, so I'm going to shift focus to sleep quality for today's guide.

How to Make Sure Your Sleep Is As Uncomfortable As Possible While Also Questioning Your Own Sanity

1. Buy a home with newly-installed Berber-style carpet in the bedrooms in a shade of "practically white." Admire how clean and fresh it is and how spacious it makes the rooms seem. (If you are not in the position to buy a home right now, you will need to install some of this carpet).

2. Make sure the carpet gets walked upon daily. Keep your shoes on as you walk up and down the steps, for example. Also, for those areas that don't get foot traffic (under the bed, in strange corners, etc.), you will have to just ignore the carpet. If you ignore it, a nice, dark layer of dust will accumulate all on its own. Store your vacuum in the basement so that, for several years, it rarely touches the carpet more than twice a month.

3. Have one, two, or three kids. With no urging from you, they will do things like pee on that practically white carpet, smear poop on it, have a bloody nose on it, spit sticky medicine upon it, press mom's pink highlighter on it, or walk on it while wearing shoes.

4. (Optional) Have that carpet professionally cleaned. This step is optional because although it can make the carpet look somewhat better, it can also pull to the surface new stains that you never saw before. Also, it might take three full days to dry, which is rather inconvenient. If you are trying to sell your house, you might conclude that you would have been better off just sucking it up and buying new carpet. Which leads to the next step . . .

5. Buy new carpet. If you don't get it at a big box store, the carpet place might just give you a price that includes moving of furniture (as opposed to Home Depot where they take a picture of each room and you have to tell them what you would like the installers to move so that they can charge you for the number of items moved in each room).

6. Pause to admire the new carpet and the way the installers put everything back in its place. In fact, tell the owner of the carpet place how delighted you were with Francisco the installer and his helper. Assume that anything that was disassembled during the installation was reassembled. You may even pause and think to yourself, "Wow, I would hate to take apart a sleigh bed, but I guess those guys do it all the time."

7. Given Step 6, proceed as usual. Allow your children to jump and wrestle on your bed every evening while Daddy changes out of his work clothes. Allow one or more of your children to migrate into that bed for a portion of each night.

8. Start waking up with a very sore neck. Complain that you have a very limited range of motion in your neck and a great deal of pain. Repeatedly use the phrase "crick in my neck" or even "this is beyond a 'crick in my neck.'" Your partner may support you with murmurs of concern.

9. (Optional) Try to change up your pillow arrangement and sleeping position. This step is optional because these adjustments will do little to improve the pain.

10. Start suggesting that something may not be right with the bed. After a couple of weeks your partner might reluctantly agree that, yes, something is awry and, in fact, he feels as if the mattress is sinking toward the middle.

11. What he will find is that the carpet installers placed the three wooden cross beams on the bed's frame, but neglected to position the supports that go under them. (If you want to Make Sure Your Sleep Is As Uncomfortable As Possible While Also Questioning Your Own Sanity without installing new carpet, simply skip straight to this step and DIY or hire someone to remove or otherwise adjust the supports on your bed so that your mattress is receiving the least amount of support possible while still raised from the ground).

12. Spend a couple of weeks trying to have a good attitude. "Yes, how nice that our mattress is being supported again. Indeed, how lucky that no one was truly harmed." Try to ignore the fact that you (but not your partner) is still waking up feeling uncomfortable and sore.

13. Once you realize that you no longer like getting into your bed, it is time to start saying things like, "I feel as if I am going to slide off my side of the bed. I'm waking up sore every morning from trying to overcorrect/cling to the bed each night."

14. Your partner may say something along the lines of, "I fixed the bed already" or even, "I've double-checked and those supports are still in place."

15. Spend a week wondering if you perhaps are crazy. Then, you have a couple of choices.

If you want to continue with uncomfortable sleep and concerns about your own sanity, choose 15a) do nothing but complain and wonder what is wrong with you, not what is wrong with your bed

If you want to start making sure that the 6-7 hours you spend in your bed are comfortable, choose 15b) have an emotional breakdown about the length and quality of your sleep until your husband agrees to give the bed another once-over, realizes the frame on your side was not properly reassembled, tests it out and admits that one does really almost fall off your side of the bed, and then fixes it.

Again, you're welcome. Any tips for uncomfortable sleep or ways/reasons to think one is crazy? Please share in the comments.

*late-night housecleaning for showings helps me keep my numbers lean!

Bibs

Here are a few of the things I want my Sweet P to know about herself at one year old.

Here goes, girlie:

You growl and so we sometimes call you Darth Vadar.

As of recently, you can climb up on the couch. You're also fast on the stairs.

You love to open the drawers next to the dishwasher and pull out all the kiddie bowls, plates, and utensils.

You also love throwing containers of baby food around and removing their plastic lids.

You are a Messy Bessy when you eat -- favorite foods are blueberries and french fries -- and meal time is sometimes frustrating for your mama. So far you are not into cake, which is shocking.

Today, your birthday, you are being treated for an ear infection and pink eye.

You take an antibiotic every single night due to a kidney reflux issue, but it should work itself out a few months from now.

Sunday mass starts about forty-five minutes after the time when you would normally start napping. The highlight of Daddy's week, I suspect, is holding you in the back of church while you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You are a girl of many nicknames. Sweet P on the blog. So many more at home. Most commonly: Bibs.

You like your snacks, especially crackers and those Gerber freeze-dried yogurt thingies.

Your big brothers love you so much and sometimes forgot how little you are. You don't help matters by trying to jump in on the scrapping and wrestling (while growling).

When you hear music, you flap your arms up and down. We think you're going to love to dance.

You can stand on your own, but you're not walking quite yet.

You like pretty much any toy, as long as you can taste it first.

You tend to look slightly disheveled and often have your hair in your eyes. You've got lots of cute bows, but you like to rip them right on out.

Your eyes are blue for good and that dark hair of yours has turned light.

You have seven teeth already and show them often when you smile.

You were a better sleeper at two months than you are a twelve months. Since you sleep about ten feet from Mommy and Daddy, we have a hard time letting you cry. Your days of nighttime meetings--usually two, URGH--with mommy are numbered, girlie.

You have a lively, fun spirit and you laugh a lot.

You should also know how ridiculously proud and puffed up Daddy and I get when we take you out in the world and see others responding to your smiles and cheeks and bright eyes.

You've been everywhere with me this past year -- Mommy and Sweet P at the Jewel, on a walk, out to lunch, at showers and parties and weddings -- and I can't readily think of a single instance when you were exceedingly fussy or unhappy. I can't thank you enough for giving me this chance to finally know how it feels to be a confident, semi-wise, semi-relaxed mom of a happy, content baby. Really, thank you. I needed that.

Each night, we pray in thanksgiving for the gift of you and ask that God keep you safe, happy, healthy and strong.

You are so very loved.

There are more good times ahead, sweet girl, and many more years to go. Thanks for making this past year so wonderful.

Brand new . . .

Around six months . . .

Nice little Tuesday . . .

If you've never been to Newport, Rhode Island, you should totally go. The town is full of amazing coastal views and beautiful, historical homes. I've visited twice and enjoyed every second.

And, guess what . . .

If you've never been to Newport, Kentucky, you should totally go there too. Growing up just outside of Cincinnati, I don't remember crossing the Ohio River all that often, at least not until I was old enough to visit the restaurants and bars on "the Kentucky side." I'm not sure about the timeline of the changes and renewal in Newport, but the town has a lot to offer right now. As part of our Cincinnati Spring Break last week, the kids and I had a great little Tuesday in Newport, Kentucky.

Our first stop was the Newport Aquarium.

The kids waited patiently for The Penguin Parade.

I guess it was unreasonable for me to expect to see penguins waddling across the carpet, but honestly, that's what I wanted. The penguins on push carts were perhaps not worth the wait, but ah well . . .

We weren't the only spring breakers at the Aquarium last Tuesday, but my mom overheard another group saying, "We're going to head to the big penguin exhibit first and beat the crowd." So we followed that group.

We had the penguin exhibit practically to ourselves, and we all loved it. Little Bit kept waving and saying, "Hi Pen-gens, Hi Pen-gens!" Bub was doing a sort of swimming/dancing motion against the glass. Grammy later named the penguins her favorite part of the aquarium.

Having visited the penguins first, we found ourselves going against the flow (pun intended), which worked out well. We enjoyed several exhibits in a quiet, non-crowded environment until we finally met up with the flow. It got a little tough wading (another pun, I'm on a roll) through the sea (NTB) of bodies and strollers with three little ones and our own stroller, but there were plenty of cool sights.

Little Bit and especially Bub were into everything. They had an opportunity to pet sharks but could not quite bring themselves to do it. Bub did touch (for a fraction of a second) a stingray, a snail, and a starfish. Pretty pleased with himself. I thought aquarium admission was a bit steep for the size of the facility, but I will say that the boys enjoyed the experience even more than I expected them to at ages almost 3 and 5. All in all, nice little morning.

Then we had to eat. My sister LAP brought my nieces Swiper and Wookie (blog handles, not real names, in case you are concerned) and we headed to Dewey's Pizza. Back in the day, when I was a young single girl in the city, there was only one Dewey's. It was very close to where I lived, and I have fond memories of cozy dinners with girlfriends enjoying the delicious salads and pizzas. Multiple locations now, but it's still so good. Every one ate well at lunch, and the kids enjoyed watching the pizza dough makers.

And, then, wouldn't you know it, there was a guy in the square making balloon animals for tips. So we got some balloon animals. Note that Little Bit asked for a lightsaber -- still obsessed with Star Wars.

Since it was all going so well, we also stopped at the candy store. We were, after all, on vacation.

Even though it was chilly, we had to get some shots of the kids and Grammy in front of part of the Cincinnati skyline. Poor Sweet P, hanging out in the stroller by herself. I need to mention that she was good as gold for the entire outing, NTB.

And then, it was early afternoon and time to head back to Grammy's house. A morning without a single tear or meltdown where we saw cool stuff, ate good stuff, and enjoyed it all and each other.

Nice little Tuesday.

One final bonus, the cost of parking in a garage right next to the aquarium and all the shops, bars, and restaurants? Wait for it . . . $2! I pay $2 to park at the pediatricians' office in Chicago and much more most everywhere else. Woo hoo!

Have you been to either Newport? Any spring break plans this year? Please share in the comments.

Loaves and Pizzas, A Homily

Years ago, two decades or more, my parish priest used a little anecdote in one of his homilies. It was the story of a married couple. The husband always made his sandwiches and then left the ends of the loaf of bread for his wife to use for hers. For years, she felt bitter and annoyed by this habit, hurt that he left her the crummy ends of bread and took the other, better, fresher pieces for himself. One day she finally confronted him on it. His sincere reply: "The ends are my favorite pieces, the best ones, so I leave them so you can enjoy them."

Sweet, right? Even though one can't help wishing the couple had cleared up their slice preferences many years earlier.

I can't remember what larger lesson about that week's readings the anecdote was meant to illustrate or how the story tied into God's love, Biblical insights, etc. All the same, the anecdote has remained with me for twenty-five years or so.

Hubby and I had a similar moment of revelation over the weekend.

We took the kids to a pizza place they call "Choo Choo" for lunch on Saturday. The kids ordered chicken and fries, as you do at awesome Chicago pizza places. Hubby and I easily settled on sharing a family size salad and a medium thin crust pizza. I happily ate several of the perimeter pieces -- you know, the best ones, with the crispy crust handle. I eventually felt guilty for eating so many of these "good" pieces and decided to grab one from the middle. Hubby says, not unkindly, "Aww, you're taking one of my good middle pieces."

"The good middle pieces?"

"Yes, those are my favorite."

"But I only eat the middle pieces because I feel guilty about hogging so many perimeter pieces."

"I only eat the end pieces to get to the middle pieces."

Seems like we could clarified this point a decade ago, but I have to say, it feels so nice to have that definitively settled and so satisfying to know that our thin crust pizza preferences are complementary.

If I were to craft a homily inspired by this incident and the loaf of bread anecdote, here are the noteworthy lessons and reminders:

Different strokes for different folks. My favorite may not be your favorite. Our own tastes and preferences seem so clear and true that it's easy to forget that others don't share them. I'm glad to be reminded of that.

Guilt? What a waste. I make more choices motivated by guilt than I care to admit. I'm not saying don't regret mistakes or don't try to make things better when you're at fault. I am saying that I am stupid for feeling guilty over things like which pieces of pizza I might possibly be enjoying too many of or how I leave the green jelly beans in the bag for the next sucker.

Communicate. Unlike the couple in the sandwich anecdote, the slice preference thing hasn't been eating away at me for years or causing any resentment. However, such little things can become nagging sources of annoyance and ill will for no good reason. Always wise to speak up if something--the way someone squeezes the toothpaste or loads the dishwasher or leaves one single glass on the most inconvenient spot near the kitchen sink--is getting to you.

Love involves sacrifices, large and small, but it does not have to be defined by them. I sometimes fall into patterns of thinking in which in order to be happy, I think I need to "earn" that happiness by giving something up/away or denying myself something I'd like . . . even as small as an end piece of pizza. Some acts of sacrifices and suffering are meaningful. Some are pointless. Wise to pause and consider the difference.

Again, our pizza epiphany is less powerful than the slice of bread story because, thankfully, it involved no hard feelings. I'm pleased though, that our moment of insight brought back that anecdote from years ago and gave me something to chew on (pun intended) that is relevant to my life today.

Any "little things" that have become big things in your relationships? Any moments of clarity achieved? Are you a perimeter person for thin-crust pizza? Do you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle? Do you like the ends of a loaf of bread? Really?! What do you do with green jelly beans? Please share in the comments.

*Note that there were two perimeter pieces left! That's our Little Bit, looking so serious and reflective.

March Madness

Last year, I wrote about my March Gladness. This year, it's a bit more March Madness, though this post is not about college basketball (which I happen to really like -- Go Irish! Go Muskies!).

This post is about why I haven't written in almost a month (longest break ever in history of NTB). Loyal readers know that we tried to sell our house last year. We just put it back on the market again last week and the past month or so has involved a massive effort to clean, declutter, and generally spiff up our house. I do most of that kind of work in the evening after the kids go to bed because not much of significance can be done (without being undone) while they are awake. Hubby's work and travel schedule heated up there for awhile, complicating things. My mom came in town to help me make the final push, and I am pleased to say the house is in good shape. It all seems and is petty in light of recent world events, but I have been fairly close to completely unraveling on several occasions the past few weeks and am finally feeling more like myself.

We left behind a clean and finally-ready-to-show house last Thursday morning and drove to the airport in the darkness with a gas tank on "E" and slightly behind schedule. Despite a stop to fill the tank with a few gallons less than a mile from the airport, we made it to Florida to visit Grandma and Grandpa.

We spent the last week watching Bub learn to swim underwater and without his vest, Little Bit test how far he could venture into the ocean without getting yelled at, and Sweet P try her hand at eating sand.

Also, I turned 36.

All in all, life is good. I have at least 36 unwritten posts swimming about in my brain and hope to find and make the time in the coming evenings to share them with you.

For now, I'm getting my blogging feet wet again by passing along two Irish blessings that came my way today and sharing a few of my favorite smiles.

May God grant you always . . .

A sunbeam to warm you,

a moonbeam to charm you,

a sheltering Angel so nothing can harm you.

Laughter to cheer you.

Faithful friends near you . . .

***

May your troubles be less

And your blessings be more

And nothing but happiness walk through your door.

My wish for this next year of my life is for more laughter, more time spent with faithful friends, and even more happiness walking through my door.

I'd also love it if a buyer for our house walked through my door and welcome any prayers and positive vibes toward that cause.

What have you been doing this March? More glad than mad, I hope. Please share in the comments.

To all my blogging buddies: I've missed making my rounds and checking in on you all. I'll be stopping by soon, I promise!

And there will be a lava pit and invisible ants . . .

My apologies for those readers who know me and my family well as the content of the first few paragraphs will not be new to you.

The basement of my childhood home was unfinished. One half was taken up with laundry and storage. The other half was wide open, excepting the support poles, and could serve various functions, including roller rink. A good portion of the basement was consistently dedicated to my classroom. I had real textbooks (NTB), old desks from my grade school, a chalk board, and plenty of invisible students. And I was happy. I taught my heart out to empty desks, completing assignments on behalf of my phantom students and then grading them.

I grew up and, to no one's surprise, became a teacher.

My sister LAP set up a store in the room she shared with our younger sister Pita. Before bed each evening (while I was reading in my room), Pita was required to "shop" from the bedroom store before she was allowed to go to sleep. LAP would ring up Pita's "purchases" on one (yes, there were multiple) of her cash registers. LAP also had a binder labeled "Business Work" in which she inventoried things like our household's collection of board games.

Despite a childhood wish to work the checkout at Kroger, LAP grew up and, to no one's surprise, became an accountant.

My point is that sometimes career paths are chosen early on.

Of course, sometimes they're not. There are plenty of wonderful stories about individuals whose life experiences have led them through a variety of jobs and eventually--through some combination of hard work, serendipity, persistence, openness, passion, and experience--to surprising and satisfying careers.

As a mom, I wonder how, if at all, my kids' current passions and preferences will predict their future careers? I'm guessing that Little Bit won't be a Jedi and that Sweet P won't get a job crawling after and chewing on dirty shoes, remotes, cords, and crumbs.

But maybe our Bub will be . . . an architect?

He came home from school last week with a two page drawing he called his "blueprints."

Using some empty cardboard boxes from the Costco run, he began executing his design.

His little brother is allowed to help.

The next day he came home from school with more "blueprints." And more the day after.

Work on the cardboard model has slowed a bit, but conceptually the project is still going strong. Throughout the day, Bub shares new aspects of his design with me and Little Bit.

Here's what I know so far about the structure he's designing: It's going to be big, a mansion. It will have wheels so it can be moved. No grown-ups allowed because they will wreck stuff. It will be big enough for all the kids he knows. There will be a pit of hot lava for robbers. Also, invisible ants to attack those robbers. All the kids will have their own rooms for sleeping and fireproof robots will protect them at night. The shower will shoot out gold coins that are really pieces of chocolate. Big kids will be there to help with homework and to read books to little kids (our next door neighbors in eighth and ninth grades were specifically named as among these "big kids"). There will be a room for babies and a robot to watch them. I forgot to mention that the robots are fireproof and waterproof.

That's all we know so far.

Maybe he'll be an architect. Or a novelist. Or a security guard. Or a designer of robots. Or all of those things. Or none of them.

My job right now? To listen to his ideas, to study his blueprints, to honor his passions and enthusiasms, to teach him to work hard and dream big, and to make sure we all remember to enjoy the journey.

Do the children in your life express career preferences yet? Do you have hopes for or guesses at the future careers of the kids you know? How did your childhood passions and preferences predict your current career? Please share in the comments.