Not that we’re calling Rilla a toddler yet. Just because she is now toddling all over the darn house does NOT mean she’s a toddler, do you hear me? She’s a baby. A BABY. I’m just saying.

Now that we’ve cleared that up, I’ll move on. Scott taught THE BABY to blow her nose this weekend, making him four for five. I think I get credit for teaching Jane, but the rest of the noses go in his column. He used my trick for most of them, though. And it occurred to me that this little trick might be a good Works for Me Wednesday tip, because it has indeed worked for us, many times over (and not just on Wednesdays).

Here’s what you do: you sneak in a nose-blowing lesson with that tried-and-true toddlers’ favorite pastime: Making Animal Sounds. What does a cow say? Moo. What does a pig say? Oink. What does a BULL say? And here’s where you snort air out your nostrils. (You want to do this BEFORE the child has a goopy nose, did I mention that?)

If you include ‘what a bull says’ in your litany of animal sounds, then when the day comes (probably tomorrow) that your wee one has a nose that needs blowing, you get your tissue ready and ask Little Snookums what a bull says. Snort! Little Snookums has just blown her nose!

When Jane got sick at the tender age of 21 months, she was famous at the hospital, FAMOUS I tell you, for being the only immuno-compromised kid under two whose nose didn’t have to be suctioned out with one of those baby-snorker gizmos. What does a horse say? Neigh! What does a sheep say? Baa! What does a bull say! Whoosh! Gross? Yes. But mighty effective.

Rilla does not know what a bull says, nor what a bull is. Scott just taught her to snort. He don’t need no stinkin’ tricks. 

Ha! Joke’s on me. I knew this week’s edition of WFMW was going to be devoted to car tips, and I was all smug in the knowledge that I had a really good one to share. Then I popped over to Rocks in My Dryer for the permalink, and would you look at that. Shannon beat me to it! She writes:

Anytime I print out a Google map for a soccer camp or birthday party or
dentist, etc., I slip it in a folder in my glove compartment for future
reference.  I affectionately call this my "Poor Man’s OnStar". 

That is exactly what I was going to say, except substitute "field trip" for "soccer camp." (And I didn’t have the funny OnStar line.)  Shannon is a great mind and I am thrilled we think alike!

So, okay, I’m not so original today. But I do have another car tip, and this one was tested over 2500 miles *alone* with five children under twelve. The day the kids and I left Virginia, Cally-fornya bound, I stuck a tall plastic drinking cup in my van’s cupholder, thinking I might find it useful for filling up at water fountains or something like that. Instead, I hadn’t gone five miles before I discovered it was a most useful and convenient receptacle for any item I needed easy access to. Over the course of the trip, this included:

• my sunglasses
• my cell phone
• Mentos  (What? They help me concentrate.)
• a pen for writing down our mileage
• and also for writing down hotel addresses when I’d call Scott and ask him to find us a room
• Starburst (Oh, hush.)

That cup is still there, coming in handy pretty much every time I get in the car!