Grocery Shopping on a Budget: Teaching Life Skills to My Older Kids

My older two kids (8 and 6) are old enough now that I've begun to feel I should be teaching them life skills beyond using the toilet and bathing. For several months, they have been responsible for folding and putting away their laundry and their three-year-old brother's laundry. Soon, the three-year-old will be assigned to assist them with it, but he's still more of a hindrance than a help. The oldest recently volunteered to completely take over doing their laundry, now that he's finally tall enough to reach the dryer, which is stacked atop the washing machine.

They also are sometimes tasked with emptying the dishwasher and setting the table. Sometimes they help me cook, by measuring ingredients, stirring pots, or reading recipes.

I have them help me straighten up toys, sometimes do some light organizing, and sweep the floor.

Today, I decided to take the opportunity to teach them a little about budgeting.

I've only recently begun to seriously delve into the nitty gritty of budgeting and managing money more proactively. I started experimenting with a new budget software, and I noticed how many skills there are to build, and these are skills that can be easily taught at a much younger age than my tender 33 years. Managing money, spending and saving wisely, being choosy about where your money goes, these are things even a six and eight-year-old can begin to understand.

So I issued the family a challenge. We went to the grocery store this afternoon and we made a goal of spending no more than $150. The idea was to pick and choose the best deals, be aware of prices, find good value for the products we needed, and know when to give something up and when to insist on something based on our family of six's need to eat 20 or so meals per week (assuming we have brunch on the weekend!). I wanted the kids to see that when they ask for just one more bag of chips or a drink or treat at the end of the shopping trip, or this snack instead of that one, or "can we get this, too, please?", it all adds up and may prevent us from buying something else because it maxes out the budget.

I had made a pretty comprehensive list of things we needed. Uncharacteristically, we were out of basics like coffee and salt, sugar and paper towels, so I knew those would take up space in the budget that might otherwise be allotted to snacks or a treat at the end.

It made for a perfect lesson.

I handed the eight-year-old my phone in calculator mode, and every time we chose an item, he added the cost to a running total. We checked unit prices to see if what looked like a good deal actually was one. We chose one brand over another based on whether something was on special. I was able to show that by purchasing a large volume of nonperishable items that were marked down, it would mean we could go several weeks without having to buy it, and it would save several dollars in the long run. I was able to demonstrate that even though it took a little more space in this week's $150, next week we wouldn't need to buy that item at all, so we could use that same space to buy something else that was on sale another time.

And, we had to forego some items. Butter would have taken us over budget. The kids wanted a treat, but when we clocked in at a little over $148 when I added some bell peppers (on sale $1 each) and carrots ($.99/pound) and bananas ($.79/pound), I said we had to wrap it up.

We could have made some exchanges. Maybe we needed butter more than tortillas? Maybe, but a 24-pack of tortillas goes a long way, even in a family of six. Maybe we could have made do with less bread in favor of some apples? Possibly. This kind of thing takes practice!

After purchasing four bags (because, of course, I always forget to bring bags) and the tax on a few non-food items, the total came to $151.54. I gave us all a pat on the back. We did very well!

After the experiment, I asked them what lessons they could take out of our little game. We talked about choosing what we really need and not just grabbing what looks good. We discussed making choices that would be beneficial in the long run and not just something we want right now. We said how if we had to forego an item this week, if we got to buy it in the future, we would be that much more excited to have it. We learned how to read price tags and figure out what they really are saying and not just go, "Oh, hey, that's on sale!"

Now, if we had gone over by $25 or $50, it would have been okay. Truthfully, we may need to go back sooner than a week from now to fill in some gaps. I hope not, because that would dilute the lesson a little. But I think they enjoyed the game, especially my oldest, who is definitely a numbers guy. And I hope that now they can appreciate a little better when I say, "I don't have the money for that right now," or, "That's not in the budget this month," or "Do you want to spend your money on THIS or THAT?" They need to understand that money is finite and you have to make good choices!

What ways have you tried to help your children understand the value of money and how to budget?

What's It Like to Have Four Kids?

"So, what's it like having four kids?" I get asked this reasonably often, especially by people with three kids who are considering another, or by people with one who can't imagine having more than that.

Comic Jim Gaffigan (now a father of five) has a great response. He says, "If you want to know what it's like to have a fourth, just imagine you're drowning...and then someone hands you a baby." (See his hilarious take on having 4 kids and home birth here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEbZrY0G9PI).

Now that my fourth is almost a year old, I find having four is not that much more difficult than having three. You're already used to being "outnumbered," you're already used to mentally counting kids and locating them and your eyes darting around looking for the little one and calling out to the biggest one to help you with something and storing and retrieving hand-me-downs and buckling multiple car seats and feeding many, many mouths.

So what's it like to have four kids? It's like today:

G-d-knows-when-o'clock-A.M.: I, my husband, and the 11-month-old are sleeping in bed. 3-year-old climbs in, too, proceeds to sleep on baby's arm. Baby tries to roll over and can't, wakes up, and I nurse him back to sleep. Only one of numerous awakenings by said baby.

7:00 A.M.: Everyone is getting up for the day when the 5-year-old throws up. Supposed to be a short day at school followed by parent-teacher conferences. 5-year-old will stay home, but 8-year-old will go, because he's feeling fine.

8:00 A.M.: Dad takes 8-year-old to school. 5-year-old throws up again.

9:00 A.M.: 3-year-old has annual well visit at doctor's and 11-month-old has appointment for flu shot. Must drag sick 5-year-old along. He throws up in the car (fortunately into a barf bag which I so wisely brought with us). 3-year-old does great at doctor, flu shot administered to baby without drama.

9:30 A.M.: School calls to double check that 5-year-old is caught up on vaccinations (he is, we establish).

10:00 A.M: Back home from doctor. 5-year-old lies down to take a nap. 3-year-old wants a snack. Snack provided. I try to get some work done.

11:00 A.M.: Baby nurses to sleep. 3-year-old wants another snack. I tell him to wait for lunch. I try to get some work done.

11:30 A.M.: 5-year-old wants toast. 3-year-old decides he also wants toast. I want last night's dinner leftovers. Baby wakes but nurses back to sleep. 3-year-old wants the rest of my lunch. I give it to him and get myself some crackers.

12:00: 5-year-old feels better. Everyone has eaten. I get a little work done.

1:00 P.M.: Time to pick up 8-year-old from school and then stay for book fair and teacher conferences. Older three play on the school playground while the baby roams the classrooms during the conferences and attempts to choke on small objects.

2:10 P.M.: Round everyone up and come home. Everyone wants a snack. Oldest has homework. Middle two watch TV. I get a little more work done.

4:15 P.M.: Round everyone up again to go to the bank, have dinner, then drop the oldest two off at Hebrew school.

6:30 P.M.: Arrive home with 3-year-old and baby, nurse baby, who has fallen asleep in the car seat and is now cranky but shouldn't really be napping, while 3-year-old watches TV and demands my assistance with selecting a show.

7:15 P.M.: Start giving warning that it will be time to get ready for bed soon. Await return of two older boys and Daddy from Hebrew school.

7:30 P.M.: Baby is crying hysterically while I try to get work done, so I take him to nurse him some more and hope he goes to sleep. He does not.

8:00 P.M.: Daddy and older two get home. Toddler goes running to say hi. Bedtime chaos ensues and resolves in the next 25 minutes. 3-year-old tells me to go away, so I take the baby to try once again to get him to sleep for the night.

9:00 P.M.: Baby is finally asleep for now. 3-year-old wants more attention but is told in no uncertain terms to go to sleep. Older two are drifting off. I go back to my computer to maybe get some work done.

9:45 P.M.: I've decided to practice guitar a little. I hear footsteps and find that the 8-year-old has emerged to get himself some water. Then the baby wakes up. I nurse him back to sleep, then return to my computer to finally (?) get some work done!

10:45 P.M.: Working steadily. Now the nightly question: Go to bed now and leave work unfinished in the hope I can finish it tomorrow, or stay up and finish it so I can move on to something else tomorrow? Also, I should get to the dishes at some point.

11:25 P.M.: I give up. I'm going to bed now. Dishes are not done and neither is work, but at least all four kids are asleep...for now.

So what's it like to have four kids? There's always something to do, always something going on. Someone is always pulling you in a direction you weren't planning to go, while another needs you to go in yet a third direction. Constant interruptions, constant noise, constant LIFE. It's lively. It's exciting. It's schlepping and cleaning up and serving and assisting. It's carving out moments to do what needs doing and finding minutes to do what you want to do.

And when you climb into bed at the end of a long day and snuggle up to your precious young one, you breathe deeply, sigh with relief, and mentally prepare for what surprises tomorrow may bring.

It's like...it's like you're drowning...and someone hands you a baby. And you snuggle that baby allll night.

Solo Road-Tripping with Four Kids

I just spent two weeks with my mom and four kids. I drove from the Bay Area to San Diego by myself with the kids. The drive down wasn't bad, but took much longer than it would have (a) without kids; or (b) with more than one adult. The drive back, we encountered some very bad traffic and it took even longer than the drive down.

I did learn a few things.

New ideas that worked well:

1) Change up the seating arrangements partway through.
Since we have four kids, we have two in the middle row of our van and two in the back. Partway through the drive, I swapped the baby and the oldest, so the oldest and toddler were in the middle row and the 5year-old and baby were in the back. (Make sure you're comfortable removing and reinstalling car seats if you choose to do this!) Since the two oldest were prone to fight after spending too much time in the back together, this broke up that issue. It also enabled each of the older two to help out the younger two.

2) Individual lunch boxes full of snacks.
We went to Target the day before the trip and picked out different sorts of snacks. We then packed each kid his own lunch box with the same set of snacks. They could keep their food with them and eat what they wanted whenever they felt like it, and I didn't have to be handing around food while driving or policing what anyone was eating. This was an especially good idea since I was driving alone and didn't have an extra set of hands to help with the passing out of food.

3) Gallons of water and refillable bottles.
Each kid had a close-able, refillable water bottle, and we kept two one-gallon bottles of water in the car. We refilled water bottles at stops. This created far less waste than disposable bottles would have and was more fun. I also found the water tasted less plasticky and was more enjoyable from a reusable bottle.

4) Crayola Color Wonder markers.
My toddler is prone to color on anything within reach, so I bought a travel set of Color Wonder markers for them to use. It was novel, because we haven't used them much at home, and it was neat and clean.

5) Barf bags, emergency clothes, and hand wipes.
I bought a package of emesis bags from Amazon to keep in the car, just in case. I also had each kid pack a full outfit outside the suitcase that we kept in the car just in case a change of clothes was needed quickly. This way, we wouldn't have to dig through suitcases in the trunk to find a change. Fortunately, no one threw up in the car (I attribute this to the fact that we had barf bags available). However, at one of the rest stops on the way home, the toddler fell into a mud puddle and required a change of clothes. Emergency change to the rescue! I also bought a 4-pack of hand sanitizing wipes for the kids to keep near them. These were great for cleaning hands after a snack or after using a gas station or rest stop bathroom with questionable hand-washing facilities.

6) Plan to take much longer than the GPS claims.
Accept that an eight-hour drive may take 10 or 11 hours (it did for us, anyway). Stop when you need to. Use the restroom every time you stop. Eating will take twice as long as you expect. Don't push yourself or the kids. Make everyone (even the babies) get out and run around or move around every time you stop. They're confined in their car seats and need to stretch, too.

And some thoughts for next time:

1) Pack whole outfits in individual bags.
I've heard this suggested and had planned to do it this time but got lazy. Pack individual full outfits in separate bags so that each day the kid can pull out a whole outfit without having to root through the suitcase for what he needs.

2) Bring a collapsible hamper.
If going somewhere where you'll be able to wash clothes, bring a cheap hamper to put dirty clothes in so they don't get all mixed up with the clean ones.

3) Unpack into drawers.
I didn't bother to unpack the suitcases at our destination, but I think it would have been nice to do so. We were there for two weeks, and it got pretty annoying to root through the suitcases looking for clothes. Another option might be for each person to have his or her own suitcase instead of mixing up the clothes.

Do you have tips for accomplishing a solo road trip with kids? Have you tried any of the above tips? How did they work for you?

What Do You Do with Baby Clothes When You No Longer Need Them?

As my youngest, who just turned four months, begins to outgrow his clothing, I'm finding in myself an unexpected sentimentality. Many of the baby clothes we have were originally my oldest's (now seven years old!) and have been handed down to each of the boys in turn. There are several outfits that all four have worn, and every time I bring out a box of the next size up, I am heard to squeal, "Oh, this was my favorite! No, this was my favorite!" I look forward to putting certain outfits on the new baby as he grows into them.

I do buy the occasional new bodysuit or sleeper, or sometimes I see a little outfit I love and can't resist purchasing, but this handing-down from one kid to the next means I don't ever have to buy anyone a whole new wardrobe...except the oldest. In fact, I'm so used to being able to just go into the garage and pull out the box of next-size-up clothing that I'm actually resentful at having to buy new clothes for my oldest as he outgrows or wears out his clothes.

Since we've basically decided that four kids is our limit, I no longer need to keep clothes to hand down once the youngest goes up a size. My baby is quickly growing into the 6-9 month size clothing, and I have retired the newborn and 0-3 month stuff. As I put the box away, I realized, I don't need to keep any of these. I have no one to save them for. I can throw them away, or give them away, but I don't need them in my house anymore.

It's a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, it'll be nice to finally free up some storage space by getting rid of these giant tubs of clothes. On the other hand, it's an odd thought that, after seven years, I don't have to save things.

And I'm finding that I want to preserve the memories attached to some of the outfits. I pulled this yellow duck outfit from Baby Y's drawer and realized it's the outfit my oldest came home from the hospital in.

Baby N, four days old

Baby G, six weeks old

It was too big for the 9-pound Baby N when he first wore it, over seven years ago. We had forgotten to bring a "going-home" outfit with us to the hospital, and someone had brought us this outfit as a gift, so we dressed him it in for the occasion.

But when I put it on the 18-pound, four-month-old Baby Y, it was a smidge too small. The top snap is missing - torn off in some washing in a previous lifetime. I put it in the "too small" tub and brought in the next size up, 6-9 month. I rummaged around to find a "new" outfit, which fits Baby Y perfectly. This, too, was originally N's. I remember S wearing it. I'm not certain if G wore it.

Baby N, three months old

Baby Y, four months old

But this tub, again, is full of seven-year-old outfits, well loved and well worn, but still usable and adorable.

Baby N, five months old.

Baby S, four months old

I just spent quite a while combing through old pictures, hoping to find that I had a picture of each kid in the same outfit, but so far I've come up empty. I have N and S in the same outfit, or even N and G in the same outfit, or S and G in the same outfit, but not all three or, better yet, all four.

Baby S, six months old (with Grandma)

Baby G, five months old

I've read of people craftier than I who have made quilts out of old baby clothes or found other ways to create lasting or useful mementos from them, but I am not that crafty or creative. Still, I like the idea of keeping some of the outfits, somehow, in some form. I don't want to keep tubs and tubs worth of clothes I don't need, of course, but I think I'd like to save a couple of outfits. Part of me likes the idea of giving an outfit to one of my sons, fully grown and a father himself, and saying, "You and your brothers wore this as a baby."

It's as if the clothes in some way carry the memories of the babies who wore them. Most of the clothes, I remember who gave them to us, or when I bought them, or where they came from. I remember a specific instance or photo when one of the babies was wearing a particular sleeper or overalls. Clothes that weren't bought for my kids but were handed down or over from friends whose babies outgrew them somehow feel less "mine." They have other babies' memories attached instead, other parents' styles.

Some outfits have been thrown away over the years because they were irrevocably stained, or torn, or lost too many snaps or buttons. Some can't be passed along anymore because they're almost unusable or simply worn out. But a few of them have held on, going from baby to baby and staying in relatively good condition. In a way, I'd hate to cut those up to make a quilt or something anyway, since they're still wearable. I'm still thinking about what I'd like to do.

Have you saved your babies clothes as they're outgrown, or do you prefer to pass things along as soon as you don't need them? What creative ways have you seen to preserve the memories attached to baby clothes?

Four Boys? You've Got Your Hands Full!

When I'm out grocery shopping with my four boys (and having four boys requires a lot of grocery shopping!), I get a lot of looks. People mentally count my kids. People watch me go by with my train of ducklings. I sometimes feel like I'm leading an invasion whenever we all go somewhere. My kids are noticeable, with two redheads, a taller-than-average 7-year-old, the 5-year-old's big brown eyes, the 2-year-old's contagious grin. They are not quiet kids, and they are not shy kids.

I admit that I'm "that" mom sometimes. My middle two, for some reason, go nuts in stores. They run up and down the aisles shrieking like banshees. They grab each other, knock each other over, get in other shoppers' way. They touch every single price tag. I can't get the toddler to sit in the cart if he doesn't want to. I can't get the 5-year-old to walk sedately beside the cart no matter how many different ways I frame it.

On the bright side, they don't knock things off shelves or break things, so I've got that going for me.

Thankfully, I live in an area full of very friendly and forgiving people. I get indulgent smiles from grandmotherly ladies. I get wondering comments like, "Wow, four boys?! You've got your hands full!" I get commiseration. I'm grateful for all of it, because we parents of young children often feel that everyone is judging our parenting all the time, and it's nice to know that most of the time, the people watching understand that sometimes little boys just want to run around. (And who could blame them for not wanting to go grocery shopping?)

I hope that I remember those amused glances, those understanding comments, the occasional compliment when my kids are grown. I hope that one day I'm that lovely grandmotherly lady who sees a young mom come in with her brood and tells her she's doing a good job, tries to make her baby smile, and commiserates about the nonstop energy of little boys. I imagine that 30 years from now, I'll be the friendly woman in the grocery store who tells that young mom, "Oh, yes, I had four boys. They're all grown up and married now, and they treat me like a queen."

I want to remember this feeling of overwhelmed-ness, of frustration, of burnout, because one day I want to offer the comforting smile, the gentle joke, and the compliment to that young mom in the store with her four boys (or girls). I want to remember how much a kind word can lift a weary soul. I want to be the one to make the toddler's tears turn to smiles, to joke with the 5-year-old, to make silly faces at the baby, so that sagging mother can finish her shopping. I want to be the one who steps aside with my one loaf of bread and carton of eggs so the mom with the full cart and melting-down 2-year-old can just get finished and get home already.

So thank you to the understanding mothers of grown children who have smiled at me and said hello. Thank you to the kind store employees who are patient with me and my crazy kids. Thank you to the other mothers of small kids who join me in a resigned sigh as we cross paths from aisle to aisle. And thank you to the sweet grandfathers who joke with my little ones and tell me about their grandchildren. You brighten my day so that I, in turn, can one day brighten someone else's.

A Road Trip with Four Kids

At the end of December we took a six-day road trip from our home near San Francisco to Las Vegas and San Diego and back home. From home to Las Vegas is about a 10-hour drive, according to Google Maps, and from Las Vegas to San Diego is about 5 hours, and then from San Diego back home is about 8 hours. Those are, of course, optimistic estimates that don't take into account the needs of four kids while on the road!

We left on Tuesday the 24th mid-morning, with the return trip planned for Monday the 30th. Our first unscheduled stop was when N, the 7-year-old, had a sudden bout of car sickness and threw up all over himself. We pulled off at a truck stop to clean him and the car up, instructed him in no uncertain terms that he was to spend some time looking out the window and not down at his tablet the whole drive, helped him change his clothes, and continued on our way. Fortunately, that was the first and last problem with illness we had on the whole trip, which I count as nothing short of miraculous!

We had hotel reservations in Bakersfield, Las Vegas, and Oceanside, the three cities where we expected to sleep. My mom was traveling with us, and we needed rooms for the six of us and her. Our older two boys, N and S, stayed in a room with her, and Baby Y and the two-year-old, G, stayed with us. Since N and S are 7 and 5 and can handle their bedtime routines on their own, it seemed like a great opportunity to give them time with Grandma and away from the babies.

We had planned to drive straight through to Bakersfield, which is almost exactly halfway from our house to Las Vegas, but on the way we noticed as we played with our route options that Yosemite National Park wasn't that far out of our way, if we wanted to take a side trip. We decided to go for it and were not disappointed! Yosemite is indescribably beautiful. There was snow on the ground from a recent snowfall, but it was between 45 and 60 degrees the whole day, depending on our elevation, so it was pleasant to stop by the side of the road frequently and see one incredible vista after another. There are many well-placed turnouts and parking areas where you can stop, get out, and enjoy untainted views.

(Click for larger images)

 

 

 

After a few hours in Yosemite, we continued on our way to Bakersfield. The only problem with traveling in the winter is how early the sun sets. By the time we stopped for dinner at a steakhouse in Selma, California, it was quite dark, even though it was barely 6:00. No longer able to enjoy the scenery, which was fantastic the whole way, the drive became more of a chore, trudging along to Bakersfield in an "are we there yet" kind of mood. We arrived, exhausted, relatively late on Christmas Eve in Bakersfield and were happy to relax in the hotel room.

The next morning, we continued on our way to Las Vegas. Our first surprise was the windmill farm in Tehachapi, California. I remembered a drive as a kid during which we had passed dozens, if not hundreds, of windmills on the desert hills, but I didn't remember where I'd seen them. Apparently, they are along the way from Bakersfield to Las Vegas!

After a stop by the side of the freeway to take pictures of the windmills, we headed on down the road to Vegas. Our next pleasant surprise was that the road went straight through Red Rock Canyon, a California State Park. We stopped by the side of the road there, too, to admire the desert scenery, nurse the baby, and, of course, take some pictures!

 

For some reason, Baby Y didn't want to nurse in a traditional manner like, say, the cradle hold, but he happily nursed when I contorted myself into this uncomfortable position.

As we continued through the colorful winter desert, we investigated the possibility of detouring through Death Valley, as another spontaneous visit to a national park. It was a couple of hours out of the way, but since Yosemite had been such a success, we figured, why not? The kids were being amazingly good and patient, the baby seemed to be enjoying the ride, and the adults were finding the drive relaxing, beautiful, and, dare I say it?, fun!

Death Valley in winter is only between 70 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit, so it was pleasantly warm but not painfully hot. The air is incredibly dry, though, and everyone was thirsty. 

We stopped at a pullout overlooking Panamint Valley, on the way down to sea level and beyond.

  

We had a picnic lunch at the Furnace Creek Visitors Center, where their "official" thermometer informed us the temperature was 80 degrees. Our car said 75. Warm for December, but chilly for Death Valley!

We drove on through Death Valley and climbed up to Zabriskie Point, where I wore Baby Y in the Moby wrap to give myself some freedom of movement and a couple of free hands.

 

 

After Death Valley, we drove straight on to the Nevada border, where a giant (fake) cow welcomed us across the state line. It seemed an appropriate place to stop and nurse the baby.

Near the border is the "Area 51 Alien Center," really a quirky convenience store with lots of Area 51 "memorabilia." It's also attached to a (legal) brothel, so there was some brothel memorabilia as well. A funny and bizarre place to stop for some water and alien-themed souvenirs and photos.

Soon after, the sun set, and our journey into Las Vegas was cloaked in darkness. The kids fell asleep, and the lights of Las Vegas welcomed us quietly. We were staying at the Suncoast Hotel, off the Strip. We had dinner at an amazing Brazilian steakhouse and then settled in for the night.

Our plan the next day was to have brunch with my grandparents, who live in Las Vegas, and then head over to the Hoover Dam. We had brunch, and my grandparents very much enjoyed seeing the kids, whom they hadn't seen in two years. After a trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium on Thanksgiving weekend, we had decided we needed some way to visually track the three mobile kids when we're in a crowded place. I bought bright orange polo shirts for each of them, and they wore them on this trip. It worked great, and we were easily able to spot and count our three boys in the casinos and out and about. We set off for the Dam, but traffic from Lake Mead on to the Dam entrance was so heavy we decided to leave it for another visit and just go down to Lake Mead instead. This made National Park number 3! Lake Mead was nearly empty of visitors, and we drove down to Calville Bay, where there's a marina. We had a snack and wandered down to the docks, where a bunch of ducks found G fascinating.

 

Back in Las Vegas, we took them to an arcade at Red Rock Casino (where the orange shirts really came in handy!), had smoothies at the food court, and then met my grandparents for dinner.

 

We were due to leave for Oceanside, our last stop, the next morning. We again had brunch with my grandparents, then hit the road.

One planned stop between Las Vegas and San Diego was Peggy Sue's 50's Style Diner, in Yermo, California. It's a fun place, with a "Diner-Saur" park in the back where the kids played for a bit.

 

We also stopped at a rest stop to nurse the baby and use the bathroom. We finally made it to Oceanside around 6 in the evening and met some close friends for dinner. We sent the older two boys to sleep at Grandma's house, and my husband and I took G and Baby Y with us to a hotel to sleep. We spent Saturday and Sunday visiting with old friends, then headed home early Monday morning, with a stopover in LA to visit my aunt. We pretty much drove straight home, with a stop at Starbucks in Castaic, California (the last city as you leave L.A. County and enter the desert), to pee and feed the baby, and the Harris Ranch Inn & Restaurant in Coalinga for a delicious late lunch.

It was a relief to arrive home and sleep in our own beds, but the trip overall was excellent. The kids did very well in the car, and I hope that N and S will remember at least some of the journey. I enjoyed seeing parts of the country I hadn't been to, visiting our old home and seeing good friends, and taking in a range of scenery from the evergreen forests of Yosemite to the surprisingly colorful, sandy Mojave desert, to the lights and energy of Las Vegas.

The whole family in one picture!

Family vacations are a way to reconnect with your kids, see the world through their eyes, and build memories together. What is the most memorable trip you took as a kid? Are you planning to take your kids on an adventure someday? Where do you want to go?

Also, see my companion "Family Road Trip" playlist on my YouTube channel! Subscribe to the channel to see new videos as they're published.

Please Don't Tell Me I'm a Supermom

When I tell people I've gone to the store, or out to eat, or made dinner, or gotten a few hours of work done, or some other apparently monumental task while being responsible for all four of my kids, I get exclamations of amazement. "You're a supermom!", they'll say. Or, "I only have two, and I can barely manage most nights!" Or, "I don't know how you do it!" I know these are meant as compliments and are honest reactions to something outside their own frame of reference. And I appreciate them as such.

But it makes me uncomfortable just the same. Because secretly, deep down, it releases all kinds of insecurities. All I can think of is all the things I've done wrong, the mistakes I've made, the things I wish I had managed to do. I berate myself for not paying enough attention to the kids, for letting them fend for themselves while I work in another room, or, conversely, for spending a few hours with them instead of working a few more hours to pad my paycheck. Or, for neglecting both work and kids to sit on the toilet and play Candy Crush in private. I should hold my baby more, hug my five-year-old more, draw with my toddler more, and read with my seven-year-old more. I should put the phone down during dinner and make them tell me about their day. I should try harder to get the toddler to take a regular nap. I should get the middle two dressed before noon. I should take them to the park more so they can run around on sunny days. I should replace their bike helmets and let them out front to ride. I should fold their laundry. I should wipe down the kitchen counters, sweep the floor of the toddler's food-leavings, and change the baby's diaper and give him a bath.

I see other people accomplishing things I haven't been able to, and I think I have no right to those compliments. I'm not "doing it all." I'm not a supermom. And when you tell me I am, you're belittling yourself. You're negating all of the amazing things you've managed to do, like have a dance party in the living room and do an art project with your preschooler, like cook healthy meals all week long, get your car washed, and clean your toilets. Like sign your second-grader up for soccer, acquire all the gear he needs, and attend all his games. Like save up for two years to take the family to Disneyland. Like start your own business and run it successfully, work full time outside the house and still get the laundry folded and the lawn mowed, and remember to pick up a birthday present for the party this weekend.

I'm just a mom. Some things, I know I do well. Some things, I know I could improve. And, looking at you, looking at how well dressed you are, how neat and clean your house is, how you make healthy meals all the time and get your housework done regularly and limit screen time to just the weekends, and have money left in the bank at the end of the month, some things make me feel very, very inadequate. Not because I think you're judging me, but because I'm judging myself.

Please don't tell me I'm a supermom. I don't feel all that super, and I don't have a cape. Sure, I made it to the grocery store, but I nearly lost the stroller, forgot to buy half the things we needed, and left the reusable bags at home. Yeah, I got the oldest to school on time, but the other three are still in pajamas and the toddler's diaper needs changing. Absolutely, I made dinner and put the dishes in the dishwasher, but I didn't make them clean up their toys, there are shoes everywhere, and the baby is crying in his swing while I rinse the last of the dishes.

No one's life is perfect. I think as moms we only see our own shortcomings while we admire the accomplishments of all moms around us. I'm wondering how she can remember to put jackets on both of her kids and manage to keep them from running around screaming in the store, while she's wondering how I can load four kids into the car in half the time it takes her to put her two in. I'm wondering how she finds the time to make dinners from scratch every night and keep the living room free of clutter, while she's wondering how I can work part time from home with three kids in the house.

I'll tell you what, if you buy the capes, I'll wash them. But don't blame me if I forget to put them in the dryer.