"Melmo Geen!" trauma on Sesame Street

Parenting 101 factoid: Consistency is important for kids.

I’m not just talking about the daily routines or similar caregivers – this apparently goes much deeper than I ever realized or experienced with my oldest child.

I was laid up on Monday with a case of the Mondays paired with a massive allergy attack, it was far from a pretty day at our house. My oldest is visiting his dad this week and the youngest headed off to daycare so I could attempt to rest (she’s teething and I feel like I have newborn again at night on top of all this).

When she arrived home, she wanted to read some books. Normally I love it, but Monday all I wanted to do was continue laying on the couch with my eyes closed. Everyone sit down for a minute and get your judging hats on: so I offered to the 18 month old that she could pick out a movie to watch instead.

This is rare. She’s actually never watched a movie before. She knows where they are and she’s seen her big brother pop one on as she’s heading down to bed in the evenings before but its never been her chance before. She ran like a crazed lady down the hall and picked out a Sesame Street DVD she’d been eyeballing titled “Being Green”.

Let me fill you in on the premise in case you’re not familiar with this blockbuster film. Elmo and Abby are hosting a telethon with the usual cast of characters manning the phone bank. They’re raising money and awareness for “Being Green” and taking care of the earth by reusing, reducing, and recycling. Now you’re up to speed.

I was impressed when she sat with me on the couch and was paying attention. She pointed out all her favorites “Melmo!” (Elmo), “Abby!”, “Coo-ee!” (Cookie Monster), “Eh-nee!” (Ernie) and was really enjoying her big girl movie time. That is, until Elmo asked Abby to cast a spell to allow him to be Green and take care of the Earth all the time.

If you’ve seen Sesame Street you know two things. First, Abby is not very good with a wand. Second, her parents should demand a tuition refund from that Fairy School – it’s not helping. Needless to say, the furry red monster was suddenly completely green from head to toe. My daughter took one look at me, her face filled with concern, and clasped her hands at her chest as she watched Elmo running across the screen yelling “ELMO IS GREEN!!!” in a panicked fashion.

She screamed at the top of her lungs “Melmo geeeen!” and looked near tears. She hopped off the couch and ran to my husband – screaming and panicking that Melmo was geen. We started to console her and tried to “explain” he was ok and he’d be all better in just a few minutes – but before we could fully console her Cookie Monster snapped, and ate his phone at the phone bank since no one was answering his requests for cookies.

This lead to a tearful child begging him to stop “No Cooo-eee…No!!”. Again, hands clasped at her chest and a concerned look on her face.

At this point, I shut the movie off. I don’t need years of therapy bills for her down the road thanks to “Being Green”. She was concerned for Melmo and Cooo-eee as I put it away and walked her back into the movies and told her to find something else. She chose “Elmo in Grouchland”, and when Elmo and Cookie Monster appeared in normal fashion, she smiled broadly and seemed relieved as she informed us “Melmo better.”

My recommendation to parents? In addition to a consistent daily routine, keep their Muppets the right color. You’ll thank me later.

We opened a bakery

We did it. We decided to start our own little bakery with the goal of making safe goodies for food allergy sufferers to enjoy.

The main goal would be to get our goodies into classroom and birthdays throughout the land to let every kid feel completely normal and part of the group. No more "special" plates for kids. They'll get the same piece of cake or cupcake or cookie that everyone else does. This might not seen like a lot to most people, but to a kid (and the parents of these kids) its monumental.

The Bon Bakery came to be from the delightful way Ben said his name when he was little. "I'm Bon" was always followed by the most infectious, beaming, friendly little smile this world has ever seen. No one on the outside could tell that at a moment's notice, that smile could disappear behind a swollen face and hives thanks to food. Nor could they see the anxiety that any of those reactions could make that smile disappear forever. This bakery is "Bon's" Bakery.

Its driven by his Momma and step-dad who have an insane love of cookies, both our kids, and baking treats. Combining these three loves has driven this passion to a new personal level. We want to help kids like Bon experience things. Hopefully, people who are nervous to cook for an allergy kid will reach out to us. It IS daunting and scary if you're not used to it. After five years of navigating this food allergy jungle - we're veterans, but always looking for new ways to spread our goodies and the message behind them.

We've had a little boy sit alone with a different treat because a classroom treat that was brought in wasn't safe. It hurts. We've had a little boy who has been teased for his different "safe treat" during class parties. It infuriates. And we've had a little boy smile so big and squeeze us so tight when we've been able to recreate something he thought he couldn't have. Its inspiring.

Please visit our Etsy store at http://www.etsy.com/shop/TheBonBakery or find us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TheBonBakery. Help us spread the word and educate people to the needs so many kids and adults face. We might not be able to find a cure, but we've yet to meet a problem that a really good cookie can't make better - especially a safe cookie.

Olan Mills is my Hell

Let’s get the kids pictures taken together!

Clearly, it’s been about 25 years since my mother wrangled two children into an Olan Mills to get pictures taken. Judging by the tone of eagerness and excitement in her voice, portrait studio visits must be comparable to labor in the grand scheme of motherhood: over time you forget the pain and enjoy the end result.

In 25 years I’ll be glad we went. Right now, I think it’ll be 25 years before we try again.

The six year old was a dream getting ready at home. It’s nice when they know how to dress themselves and can follow directions (when they choose to). The 18 month old somehow turned this into 20 minutes of cardio that would leave Jillian Michaels sweating and panting on the living room floor. And that was just getting her dress on, we didn’t get to hair yet.

I’d like to mention, Grandma hadn’t arrived yet either. She wisely showed up about 5 minutes before we had to leave the house – so no prep work for her. I’m writing that move down in my book of “Things to do to my children as revenge when I’m a Grandma”, its right underneath “pay for them to use that TV cart through the grocery store”.

I grabbed the comb and an easy hair clip for the girl and got the kids in the car the minute Grandma showed up.

When we got to the studio, the boy started practicing his smiles. They the most plastic looking faked things of all time. And he couldn’t do them without closing his eyes. Great. As soon as the girl saw the photographer, she erupted into tears. I’m not sure what she thought the lady was going to do to her, but she was petrified.

We get into the room where she screamed and cried and would not get within 10 feet of the photographer. And I had to remain within 1 foot of her at all times. We spent a lot of time cropping my legs out of pictures later that day.

The rest of the day resembled what I think gets edited out of The Biggest Loser day one work outs. Two grown women jumping up and down in outrageous manners, sweat pouring down them, making crazy faces, while someone sits in the corner and screams and cries (I’m referring to the girl, not myself). Finally, we told the photographer to just keep snapping and we’ll do what we can.

Half our pictures feature a screaming baby and a boy with the fakest forced smile ever plastered on his faces as he nervously glances at his partner in crime out of the corner of his eye. Another 49 percent of the pictures feature that same fake smile, but this time a very mad little girl clearly giving us all a stern talking to for this torturous afternoon.

But there, in the remaining 1 percent, was one perfect picture of a happy, sincere little boy and his sweetly smiling, calm, happy little sister. Looking precious and perfect and angelic. It’s the kind of picture that comes in picture frames when you buy them. I snagged that sucker up, secretly happy that mother had decided this would be fun.

I also dropped the cash for one of the fake smile screaming fit ones. Someday, 25 years from now, someone’s going to tell my why they don’t want to take my grandkids for pictures. And I’m going to show them why they owe it to me to get it done.