Duck. Duck. Duck. Duck- GOOSED!

For the 1 in 1,002,701 people this could happen to, I found a solution that can save time and sanity.

I recently read an article from a well-respected mom author. She claims that a child’s desire to learn is just a part of nature. They are merely “scientists researching cause and effect”. And if we, as parents, can turn off the nagging inclination to say, “stop!” then we can truly begin to see our children as constant unfolding miracles.

Well, my 2-year old daughter is certainly a little Einstein. There is no coincidence that her initials are E.M.C. And as for experimentation, yep, she does plenty of it. You see she has toys, lots of them. She has accumulated so many in recent weeks, that I can barely keep track of them. In fact, I don’t think she can either. So suddenly, toys from last month are practically new again, and toys from last year are jackpot.

In early summer I made an impulse purchase. We passed the luring $1 dollar section of a store, always conveniently placed right at the front entrance. My daughter screamed, “Duckie, pink…mommy!” I thought, why not? One dollar for a more peaceful day of running errands, sure. Now if only I had the foresight to see that I was inviting a cheap, pink, plastic menace into my house, only to steal what little sanity I have left after 2 years.

Usually we keep the duck in the tub for bath time. Somehow, the pink creature got loose and found it’s way into my living room. Now I’m no scientist, but this duck, has no feet.

Its pink effervescence summoned my Madame Curie over to explore. On one side of the duck, there is a round hole that allows access to fill it with water. So of course with the faucet out of her reach, what else could she use instead? She scoured the room. Minutes passed before she managed to excavate old wooden shapes tucked beneath an end table, and filled the duck with perfectly shaped cylinders to fit right into the hole in the duck; Genius, right? Negative.

Cause: Pink duck full of wooden cylinder shapes.
Effect: Mom loses her mind trying to get them out.

Did I mention that the duck is made of plastic? Hard plastic? An unyielding, cheap, fluorescent plastic with just one hole the same diameter of 1 cylinder. Oh, and she managed to wedge in five of them? Five little soldiers all lined up in there, waiting to take me down.

For two hours I tried everything. Cutting the hole larger. Shaking. Shaking gently. Tilting it. I did everything short of throwing the stupid $1 dollar toy into the trash.

Then it happened. A voice over my shoulder said, “Here honey, let me help you.”
OH NO! No freaking way. I panicked. My mind raced. I had to figure this out, and quick. Sure no life was on the line, but now my sanity and pride were at stake. But how do I get those damn things out? Hmm. A light bulb flickered above my head… Ah ha, yes! And off into the kitchen I went to find the tool to prove my hypothesis.

Approximately five minutes later, all 5 cylinders were in my captivity, and the duck was put away on a high shelf. I fished each little bugger out and made sure my daughter watched and learned from my own experiment.

I think it’s safe to say, that the next time I see anything go near this duck, my nagging inclination to say, “Stop!” will definitely be turned on.
Notice the Scotch tape. Listen up moms. Washable crayons, stain remover, AND scotch tape are toddler essentials ;)

A Day In Maine

For my husbands Birthday weekend, we decided to embark on yet another one of my signature “stealth-weekend-getaways” that usually encompasses approximately 24 hours in another city. Completely blank on ideas on where to go, I somehow managed to stumble upon $20 Amtrak tickets to Maine. You can hardly get half a tank of gas for that these days.

I had no idea what to expect on our first journey to Portland, Maine. In a nutshell, it was “nice”. After visiting NYC several times in the past few months, and now living near Boston, I had become remiss of what land was like when left completely untouched.

As I watched the landscape pass from our coach-car window, the endless view of greenery and blue sky instilled a sense of peace that I can hardly describe in text; miles and miles without a hint of concrete, a car, street light, or human life. Only every so often were there were subtle marks of suburban life- a house here and there, t-shirts flapping on a clothesline, a swimming pool (geez, I hope it’s heated). Just tiny flickers of the rural lives tucked away in the pockets of Maine.

In true form, us Corredera’s took on the streets of this foreign town (at least to us) with no car or any real plans. Figuring out the city bus system and how to get around with a toddler (and no car seat) was quite the challenge, but we were up for it. Luckily, our bus driver was incredibly kind and guided us well in our unmapped quest.

Within our 24 hour stint, we managed to steer through Portland’s old and uneven cobblestone streets, and bask in the salty air along the harbor. The abundant art inspired locals were reminiscent of the artsy San Franciscans we had once visited; with their dark, streaky-dyed hair lying over their fair skin that must have been hidden from the sun all winter; often times carrying a sketchbook or a guitar. They all seemed to walk with a heavier step than what I am accustomed to. Possibly because of the long, wintry lifestyle they must endure. Speaking of which, we were clearly “the visitors”; the only family walking down the streets wearing sweaters, much less sleeves. I guess 45 degrees and sun, equals shorts and tanks tops here. Pay no mind to us wussy southern Californians running for cover from the wind.

Nonetheless, the trip was as success; just a little sample of another town; one more coastal place where seagulls’ frolic and confetti the sky; where caws evoke blissful memories from the past. A place where the warm orange and powdery blue skies blanket the town below while the sun tucks itself away at the close of another day.

Closet Junkie

Alright, so I’ve come to terms with the fact that my days of bottles and breastfeeding on demand are long gone. Ella is now 19- months and has become quite the toddler; in a sense, maybe even a little “mini-me”. She wants to wear mommy’s shoes. Say what mommy says. She even has a little vacuum to push along while I’m vacuuming. Except for me, the thrill of the motor and suction has long faded. (If only Fisher Price made ones that really worked, this place would be spotless!) I digress; she unfortunately also wants to eat whatever mommy eats too. LORD HELP ME!

As flattering as it may seem to have a little girl look up to you and want to mimic your every move, it can surely tug on ones nerves at times. Today for instance, I chatted on the phone with a friend at the end of a long and stressful day. While swapping war stories about the office, I fall into that “oh, I need some chocolate” mood, to get me through re-living the scenario again. So unconsciously while reaching into the cookie jar, I continue walking and telling my story as cookie crumbs trickle down the number pad. I close the door behind me and sit down for a breather. Amidst the juicy gossip, I'm interrupted:

Friend: “Your voice is echoing, where are you? And what are you eating?”

Me: “huh? Oh, I’m in the laundry closet hiding from Ella so I can eat my cookie!”

I could barely keep the crumbs from flying out of my mouth, we were laughing so hard! What great lengths we take for such simple pleasures.

Is it too late to tack one more to that list of New Year’s Resolutions???