Photographic Memory

The lovely Alicia from Naps Happen stops by today to share her reaction to a video that recently went viral called “I Forgot My Phone.” Good stuff here, people. Be sure to watch the video. Enjoy.

photographic-memory

On Wednesday, Wendy posted a really thought-provoking video, in which a young woman goes through her day without a smartphone while everyone around her tweets, talks, and photographs the same events. It’s really a sad video. Most of us could recognize our own behavior in at least some part of the two-minute film. The same technology that brings us all closer together appears to simultaneously drive us apart.

The most prominent way in which I saw myself in the video was in the compulsive picture-taking. Every time an important moment occurred, someone paused the action to take a photo, thereby moving his or her attention away from the wonderful moment and toward the smartphone.

But, hey, they got to share that moment on Instagram/Facebook/Twitter, right?

I asked myself why it is that I suffer the same irresistible impulse to pause these seminal moments and document them. I’m not the only one. Certainly, I have seen a huge uptick, in the past two years, of parents all over the place taking “First Day of School!” photos and then, of course, sharing them copiously online. Then everyone “likes” everyone’s photos. We’re all in the first day together.

Yesterday, I almost had a panic attack when I thought, after snapping my son’s “First Day of First Grade” picture, that I had accidentally made a video, instead. I jumped up from my desk as if to retake the shot, but he was already gone. I fought the impulse to chase him down the street. What if I had missed my one and only chance to take that photo? How would I explain my mistake to him? To my friends?

But what happened to just remembering life’s sweetest moments?

Today, I ponder why we think that photos are a more valid way of treasuring the moments than the actual memories of the events. Even if photography is more accurate than the human memory, how does the taking of a photo potentially cloud your recollection of a moment you never wanted to forget? If you are seeing your child’s goodbye wave through the lens, does it have the same impact? Do we make the same connection when we’re saying, “Stand still! You’re making the picture blurry!”

Deep down, I think we’re all still keeping up with the Joneses a little. I think that, if I don’t take my First Day photo and post it for everyone I know, maybe I’m not as “good” at parenting. It’s like the infamous baby book. If you don’t do the baby book, did you “do” the baby time well enough? Did you treasure every moment like your friend, who saved a lock of hair to show everyone in a beautifully scrapbooked album later? People would generously say “yes,” but for the parent who didn’t manage the baby book, or didn’t do it well, there’s still a wistful regret and a wish to go back and try it over again. You think, if only you could have been organized enough to make that album, you could remember all those little moments forever.

I know I’m not going to stop taking photos and posting them, but I might make an attempt to break free of the smart phone a little more often. I’m going to try to let some of those precious moments transpire without photographic evidence and just believe that sometimes my heart will be a better memory keeper than the internet.

How did the video make you feel after watching it?

Alicia can be found sharing some unusual napping spots on her blog Naps Happen. Catch her Facebook and Twitter.

Jenny Lee Sulpizio Fesses Up

I am thrilled to introduce you all to author Jenny Lee Sulpizio. Jenny is a wife and mother of three who enjoys writing about anything and everything under the sun, but especially loves to instruct, motivate, and guide other moms with practical advice, tips, and a whole lot of comic relief in the process. Jenny’s forthcoming book “Confessions of a Wonder Woman Wannabe: On a Mission to Save Sanity, One Mom at a Time” hits bookshelves next month but you’ll have a chance to win your own copy here! 

I’m just going to go ahead and come right out and say it:

It’s totally my time of the month.

Ugh. Sigh. Eek. Ew. Gasp!

And as a mom of three, husband of one and C.E.O. of my household, I’ll be honest in stating that I’m not a gal you want to mess with when that (evil) monthly visitor decides to pay me a visit. That sounds bad, huh? But during those moments of luteal mischief, I find I’m at the mercy of my raging hormones and just can’t help it.

Sound familiar?

This isn’t how I want it to be though. I mean, I feel horrible for my family, or anyone else I come in contact with during this time. I’m cranky, ornery, and just plain irritable. I have no control over those wacky hormones of mine…but there’s got to be a better way, right? Well, aside from turning into the female version of the Incredible Hulk that is.

Jenny-Lee-Sulpizio-hulk-PMS

Yep. We ladies must find a way to combat our craziness and remain in control. We need to figure out how to handle the conditions associated with this monthly disorder, and still deal with our families (in a way that doesn’t scream “Cross my path and pay the price”). So, short of going into hiding or secluding ourselves from society in general, what can we do to free ourselves from those not-so-fun-female-problems?

I might just have your answer.

In my soon-to-be-released-book, “Confessions of a Wonder Woman Wannabe: On a Mission to Save Sanity, One Mom at a Time,” I’ve described a number of ways in which we ladies can learn to keep calm and carry on.

confessions-wonder-woman-wannabe

Interested?

Try these on for size.

1.) Take a hot bath: Now for a mom in high demand, fifteen minutes of soak time may be a little hard to come by but this is where you need to employ the help of a loved one in order to get the relief you need. Ask a spouse, family member or friend to watch your kiddos for a few minutes while you indulge in a hot bath. Or, wait until your cherubs have gone to bed and take as long as you want in order to rid yourself of some of those pesky PMS symptoms. It works, seriously.

2.) Invest in essential oils: Talk about relaxing, no matter what symptom you’re suffering from, they’ve got an essential oil for that. Get yourself some Valor, a Stress-Away roll-on, or even some lavender to help you through this monthly mood-swingin’ time. Word to the wise.

3.) Stick to a healthy diet: No really! As much as I would love to down a slew of Twinkies, Choc-O-Diles, Ho-Ho’s and Ding-Dongs, this may not be the best idea (for my blood sugar levels or my waistline). Keep your period in mind when doing your grocery shopping and stock your fridge with healthy snack items/food choices the week you expect your “special friend.” You’ll be so glad you did.

4.) Exercise: Wait, whaaaat? I know, the last thing I want to do when dealing with my period is to workout, jump up and down, run a mile, or do anything that requires any sort of physical exertion at all. But as it turns out, exercise may be just what we need to take the edge off our mood(s) and keep us sane. So, get out of the fetal position, get active, and enjoy those endorphins.

5.) Avoid chick-flicks: When dealing with PMS, the last thing you want to do is turn on Lifetime television and indulge in a sad, sappy, chick-flick. You know-one that causes the tears to flow and the heartache to linger? Um, no thanks! Add that to the irritability experienced when you realize that your hubby in no way acts like the sensitive, macho main character in the film, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Avoid the sap, and indulge in a comedy instead. Your mood (and your husband) will thank you for it.

Hey, PMS and the period that follows are certainly not the highlight of our month but we don’t need to give it any more control over us than it already has. By incorporating some of these tips, we can embrace this time a little bit better, and not rip the heads off of our loved ones in the process. And that, my friends, is a good thing!

How ‘bout you? What do you do to help ease the tension that comes along with your monthly visitor?

Interested in more tips to help combat those monthly “crazies?” Enter here for a chance to win a copy of my new book  (I hear Wendy’s throwing in a little something extra too to sweeten the deal!):

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Jenny-Lee-Sulpizio-authorTo find out more about Jenny or to follow her blog, visit www.jennyleesulpizio.com.

She can also be found on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

 

What’s Prince Charming Selling by Leah Singer

It’s the official first day of Summer and we’re off at the pool! So, today I’ve got the lovely Leah Singer from Leah’s Thoughts offering up a great guest post about the traveling salesman. Have you seen an increase in door-to-door solicitors in your neighborhood? I know we have. Leah tried turning her recent experience into a teachable moment for her daughter but it might have backfired. Read why. Enjoy.

prince-charming-knocking

Once upon a time, there was a mother and a daughter who were at home when they heard a knocking at the door. Cue the dog barking and the little girl running to the door to see who had come calling. …

Okay, enough with the fairytale mentality. So this situation actually happened to me and my daughter, Sophie, last week when we were sitting at home, minding our own business. The knock at the door ended up being a door-to-door salesperson who was selling – of all things – financial planning services.

First of all, do people still go door to door to sell? (I’m not talking about the Girls Scouts in this scenario.) Every once in a while, we’ll get a salesperson come to our door that wants to sell us new windows, pest control, or whole-house painting. Needless to say, all these sales people say the exact same thing, “I’ve been talking to your neighbors and they said blah blah blah …”

So when the financial planning dude said the same thing, I wanted to say back to him, “Really, you talked to my neighbors? Because every one of you say that same line. So I find it hard to believe that it’s true.” You would think if people are going to solicit door to door they would get a more creative shtick.

The second strange thing about this interaction is the fact that he is selling financial planning services. What kind of person decides to buy financial planning services from a traveling salesperson?! A stranger is the last person I’m going to trust with my financial information. Which leads me to wonder if this guy is even a real financial planner.

So finally, after I kicked the salesman off my porch, I decide to use this experience as an opportunity to talk with Sophie about not talking to strangers. I tell her that only mommy and daddy can open the door, and we especially do not open the door to strangers. She also should not talk to strangers.

She seemed to get the concept, even explaining that’s what the grandmother said to Little Red Riding Hood, and the fairies said the same to Aurora in Sleeping Beauty. Great, she gets it!

And then do you know what she says?

“But mommy, in Sleeping Beauty, the Prince was a stranger and Aurora talked to him.”

She’s right! What do I say to that?

I ended up persuading Sophie that Aurora really shouldn’t have talked to the Prince. But the story is make-believe and things that happen in Disney movies don’t always happen in real life. Okay, she said, but made sure to point out that conversing with animals in the woods is acceptable. Apparently animals are not strangers (pit bulls excluded).

So thank you very much, Walt Disney, for taking a perfect teachable moment and throwing it back in my face. Evidentially princesses are exempt from the rules of society. Or perhaps the Prince was actually hoping to make a financial planning sale. Hmmm … makes you wonder.

Leah Singer photo

Leah Singer with daughter Sophie

So tell us: Have you bought something from a door-to-door salesman?

Looking for more from Leah?  Head on over and read Live Lobsters and Hail: The Simple Things in Life, Never Plan a Trip to Ikea on Your “Day of Fun” and Will Santa Claus Be Coming to Town?

Follow Leah on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram.

 

Strawberry Balsamic Milkshake

I absolutely adore today’s guest blogger! Amanda Prince from Sunny Vegan is a lifelong vegetarian turned vegan with a passion for creating delicious and beautiful vegan recipes.  Her recipes have been published at Shape, BlogHer, and Earth Balance.  Today, she’s sharing her Strawberry Balsamic Milkshakes with us and I think this might be just perfect for this weekend! 

 

strawberry balsamic milkshake - sunny vegan

When you think about summer, images of fresh foods always come to mind. Maybe it’s a tall glass of lemonade by the pool, a slice of juicy watermelon at a picnic or fresh corn on the grill. Summer foods are an important and easy way to create memories with your family.

As we get ready for all that the summer season provides, I wanted to focus on creating fun and healthy recipes that also create lasting memories for my girls. I hope that this reminds you to get out there and make some great food memories of your own this summer.strawberry milkshake and summer recipes from sunny vegan

Ingredients: per serving

2 cups vegan vanilla ice cream
2 cups fresh strawberries- cleaned and hulled
2 tablespoons agave
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar plus additional to taste

Method:

Place all ingredients into blender and mix well. serve immediately.

 

Amanda is also offering two additional recipes for you.  Got an abundance of grape tomatoes growing in your veggie garden?  Then you should consider this Roasted Grape Tomato Pasta.  Isn’t it gorgeous?  This paired with a Watermelon Agua Fresca on a Sunday afternoon – yum!   

Amanda-SunnyVeganHeadshot

Amanda from SunnyVegan.com

Miss Amanda has been known to whip up some adorable free printables too.  I love this customizable 2013 Summer Bucket printable and one she published earlier this week with a huge personal announcement called Simple Living.

You can connect with Amanda on Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter

Tattle Tale – By Keesha from Mom’s New Stage

It’s finally Friday and I’m pleased to introduce you all to Keesha from Mom’s New Stage!  Before her two children re-choreographed her life, Keesha was a professional dancer who performed in the U.S. and in Europe. Today she is a master modern and jazz dance teacher in the Chicago area. She is also the human cyclone behind the popular blog Mom’s New Stage. A multitasker at heart, she shows fierce skills at simultaneously writing, choreographing, checking Facebook and Pinterest updates, playing the role of a mother named Joan “Kumbaya” Crawford, and overcooking food. Her writing has been featured on Mampedia.com and recently in the bestselling anthology I Just Want to Pee Alone. Have a great weekend!  – Wendy

tattletale-guest-post-keesha-beckford

Vehicularly speaking it’s been a bad week.

No, nothing happened to my car.  It’s what happened to me when parking my car was involved.  I became an angry white man with a perm!

Just kidding.

Anyway, anyone who reads this blog knows I’m a bit loopy.  But I am a loving mom to two wonderfully, and perhaps miraculously, well adjusted children. I manage to be the C.O.O. of a cluttered, yet clean, well-stocked home where everyone eats, for the most part, healthful food and enjoys clean clothes.  I have a job where I am respected.  I have many good friends who are themselves accomplished, intelligent, empathetic, rational, loving people.

So why in the past few days have I been behaving like a girl duo featuring Tyler Perry’s Madea and Lucy Ricardo?

And no, it’s not THAT.

First there was the person who parked his bumper literally up on my grille over the weekend.  Ignoring the requests of my husband,  I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag, marched into a fancy boutique to borrow a pen, and as the shopgirls nervously peeked at my paper to see if this mad black woman was going to make it their last day on earth, I penned a VERY nasty note.  Then I flashed the girls a big grin, thanked them, scurried back outside, stuck my angry missive on the offender’s back windshield, and Austin Powersed my car out of the spot.

Then yesterday, after I’d been circling half the South Loop for a free spot for over 30 minutes, I found a space, available except for the fact that a woman was standing there, reserving it.  Standing there!  I noticed a cop in his cruiser further up the street and I asked him if holding a spot on foot was legal.  He said no.  He u-turned in front of me warning me not to pull into him, and reprimanded the driver of the now parked car.  I u-turned as well, having thought the spot might still be free.  I continued on, prepared to give up and put my car in a lot or at a meter.

And then lo and behold, I saw a gorgeous, huge spot, shining like a beacon in the woods.

On the other side of the street.

I don’t know what I was thinking.  Maybe that I had just done it.  Maybe that the cop had just done it.  Maybe I thought he wouldn’t notice, even though he was 50 yards away, facing me.

Wouldn’t notice?  Really?  How out to lunch without a sandwich could I have been?

So I u-turned, and lined up to park.

“Don’t make a u-turn in front of an intersection!” A voice scolded.  It was the cop, who’d pulled up beside me.  I made the best cute-dumb-sorry face I could muster without having taken acting classes.  “I could write you a huge ticket.  Go ahead and park.”

Thank God he let me go.  J would have killed me; he’s warned me about my u-turn fetish a bajillion times.  And how perfect would that have been – a $200+ dollar ticket as the cost of a free space.

No one likes a tattle tale.  Or a crazy lady who leaves nasty notes on people’s cars.  I consider myself warned.  Karma’s a bit–, ain’t it?

Do we act worse behind our cars the more out of control we feel?  Are there any other folks out there who feel that their driving has become worse, not better, as one would think, since they became a parent?

keesha-beckford-moms-new-stageWant to read more from Keesha?  Here’s a couple of great posts I know you will love!   Oh, by the way… how killer is that photo of her jumping while preggers? 

She gives us 10 Things That Suck for My Partner, A Letter to a Dance Student, and the oh so perfect 10 Movie Remakes for Moms and Dads.  

Find her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.

7 Reasons My Husband Doesn’t Listen to Me by Kelley Nettles

I’m super excited to have Kelley Nettles from Kelley’s Break Room guest posting today for my Friday Take Over!  She is hands down hilarious but also warm and sweet.  I know you will love her – that is, if you don’t already!  Kelley’s Break Room is a humor blog meant for everyone: mothers, fathers, single women, single men, teenagers, the elderly with good eyesight and highly developed infants.  Enjoy and I’ll see you Monday!  — Wendy
reasons-why-husbands-dont-listen

He REALLY, REALLY listens to me sometimes.  However, more often than not, I will bring up an important subject, like how I saw our neighbor at Target, and I can tell none of my words were deposited into his brain bank.  “DID YOU HEAR ME?  I SAID I SAW OUR NEIGHBOR AT TARGET!!!”, I’ll scream into the stadium-sized loud speaker I bought for my purse.  “Did you say something?”, he’ll ask.  “You didn’t hear ANYTHING I just said?”.  I’ll ask this last question as I help him get snuggled into the human catapult I bought for him on-line. Then, I just kick myself because it is really MY fault he isn’t listening to me. I should know better than to start a conversation when the time isn’t right, such as when…

kelley-s-break-room-guest-post

If my husband fully attends to my story about the sale they were having on Pepto-Bismol, he probably fears he’ll end up like her.

#7: The TV works.

And it doesn’t even have to be sports.  He was watching C-Sp…zzzz….excuse me, C-SPAN last night, and I couldn’t get him to attend to my story about my new fingernail polish.

 

#6: There is anything at all lying around with words on it.

I’m hoping I’ll get his attention after he reads the ingredients in that water bottle…

 

#5: There is anything else to do.

Surely he’ll listen to my story about play group after he finishes reading the phone book.

 

#4: There is food around.

He definitely won’t be concentrating on my critique of my Book Club book if he is eating.

 

#3: It is daylight.

If the sun is out, you can bet he is not listening to me as closely as I’d like.

#2: He is within earshot.

If he can hear me, you can bet he’s not hanging on my every word.

#1: HE’S AWAKE.
*My husband helped me come up with this list.
**It is a joke.
***Not really.

 
kelley-nettles-kelleys-break-roomKelley was previously a Bravo-sponsored blogger, is currently sponsored by MSN, is a writer for NickMom and has contributed to Nickelodeon’s ParentsConnect website. In 1999, she married her college flame and has two sons born in 2004 and 2008 that wrestle, roar and jump from objects every single chance they get. You can find her avoiding all things productive while trying to make people laugh on Facebook and Twitter. A lot.

Want more from Kelley?  You must read The Very Frisky Masseuse: Should I Press Charges? Kidding. Sort of. (the photo in this post kills me!) and 7 Reasons I’d Be A Horrible Contestant On The Bachelor.  

Kelley is also one of the Kick Ass Mom Bloggers who wrote I Just Want to Pee Alone.  Now available at Amazon.com.

Find Kelley on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Google+.

This is What Depression Looks Like – Guest Post by JD Bailey

I am so honored to have JD Bailey taking over today.  She is an author, blogger, and the creator of Honest Mom, where she writes about raising her young daughters and managing her depression. With real candor and a good dose of humor, JD blogs to connect with other moms and create a space for women to both vent and laugh.  I really connected with JD and her post today as I struggled with depression the year after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  I wrote extensively about weaning from the anti-depressant Effexor XR and seriously consider somedays if I should still be on medication. Enjoy.  – Wendy  
this-is-what-depression-looks-like-jd-bailey
“I had no idea you deal with depression. You seem like you have it all together. You seem so … normal.”

That is essentially what I hear when I confide in someone that I battle depression. They’re always so surprised. Because on the outside, I look like a regular, suburban, 30-something mom of little kids. I generally look put together. In a decent mood. You know … normal.

When I’m depressed, I don’t look sad, angry, anxious. Like I feel like I’m falling apart. Like I’m ready to scream at my kids for every little thing they do. Like I’m worrying I will blurt something that will make their little faces crumple in sadness or worse – fear.

I also don’t look dirty, frantic, or bizarre. I don’t act erratic or crazy. I look and act like me. Just maybe a little quieter, a little sadder, a little less of myself.

When I am struggling with depression, I look normal on the outside. Because I AM normal. I just have depression, too.

If there is one thing I want people to understand about depression, it’s this: Depression often – usually – looks “normal.” Because “normal” people struggle with depression.

Some people will bristle at a comparison I am about to make – and honestly, I’m not sure why – but I think my depression isn’t different from many other chronic diseases. I have friends, acquaintances, and relatives who deal with lupus, fibromyalgia, Crohn’s, and other awful diseases that flare up and seemingly go away – just as my depression does.

I am not always depressed, nor do I always have to be on medication. My depression comes and goes. When it’s here, I take meds for it. When it’s gone, I don’t.

And yes, I know that many, many people have constant depression and have to take meds and go to therapy all the time. And you know what? I think their depression isn’t any different from any other disease that needs to be constantly monitored and cared for and medicated so the person who has the disease can feel as normal as possible.

(There’s that word again.)

It bothers me that there is such a stigma about depression. I can understand it – anything that messes with our brains is scary – but it still makes me mad.

And it makes me sad that I still worry what people think of me when I tell them about it. I am very open about my depression on my blog, but not in “real life” – because the stigma is there, and I have to be careful about being too open with the wrong people.

But I write about depression and advocate for women who deal with depression, and I won’t ever stop doing so. Because if I can help some of you out there feel less alone in your battles, and if I can help some more of you understand that regular people deal with depression – well, it’s worth taking the risk of putting myself out there.

If you have a friend or family member who confides in you that they struggle with depression, I hope you remember this: They’re just as normal as your friend with diabetes or your cousin with lupus. And they’re still the person you know and love.

I’m walking proof of that.

And if you’re struggling with depression, know this: You are not alone. There are tons of regular women just like you who are dealing with similar stuff. There is no shame in getting help if you haven’t yet, and if you do get help, it will get better.

I’m walking proof of that, too.

honest-mom-guest-post-buttonIn addition to her blog, JD Bailey is a co-author of the humor book, “I Just Want to Pee Alone,” and her writing has been featured on the Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Bonbon Break, and soon, Postpartum Progress, as part of their Mother’s Day Rally for Moms’ Mental Health.

In addition to her writing, JD is an outspoken advocate for moms who deal with depression. She was interviewed by Katie Couric about the topic and was featured in a recent Parenting Magazine article about parents and depression.

When she’s not writing or mommying, JD can be found spending too much time on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest, getting dirty in her gardens, or reading a really funny book.

Read more from JD Bailey here: Goodbye, precious lovey. Hello, first grade, How being a mom is like being on a soap opera, and Here’s why I freak out for a few days every month.

Mommy Weather – Guest Post by Nicole Leigh Shaw

I’m thrilled to have Nicole Leigh Shaw from the wildly popular Ninja Mom guest posting today for my Friday Take Over!  The girl is a crazy talented writer and has the professional resume to prove it.  I really think you’ll love this post she’s sharing with you today.  Enjoy!

Today’s Mommy Weather Forecast brought to you by WMOM and the Diaper 5000 Storm Tracker.

TODAY: Hazy with a chance of timeout. Emotional temperatures may experience sudden drops to below freezing. Storms likely in the afternoon around nap time, but clearing by dinner as the storms are blown out of the house on wine-fueled breezes.

If I am the weather in my home (and I am, bow to my might!), then my kids are the storm chasers. No neatly groomed and coiffed weather persons, they. Neither are they talking heads in front of a blue screen making practiced arm gestures indicating a fast-moving front of “Mommy’s PO’d that the playroom’s a mess.” They aren’t even the field reporters standing under a failing umbrella while Lego debris pelts them from the ground up. “Folks, it’s very dangerous out here in the kitchen where the storm is currently centered. Authorities suggest you evacuate to the playroom or your bedrooms. From WMOM, SAHM-TV, this is Whiny Progeny, reporting.”

helen-hunt-bill-paxton

Helen and Bill were ready to confront devastating tornadoes in the name of saving lives, but an oncoming mom whose children dumped rice on the living room carpet and poured her coffee in the toilet? They are frozen in fear, poor souls. Run!

My kids are brasher and braver and, one might argue, more desperate than that. They want to know not what’s happening now with Mommy Weather, but what’s about to happen. They employ precise, scientific “pinging”* technology to determine not only the location of a potential mommy storm center, but its conditions and potential for damage.

My storm chasers will send out scouts—it helps if you imagine two or three kids bouncing along in a battery powered Jeep Power Wheels toy, hanging on for dear life as they tear through the house in search of a Mommy Front. Oh, the drama! Will they survive? Will their truck be overturned when they careen over an errant sneaker? If they do hold on, they will probe the front with shrill calls of “Mommy?” until they receive storm feedback. Then the hard work of turning data into forecast begins. Storm conditions are classified in one of the following ways.

  • Category 1 Mommy: Responds to a ping with “Yes, sweetheart loveykins, my wittle numnums angel?” or similar. Potential for unexpected embraces is high. Might be serving ice cream, getting out the paints, or cuing up a feature length animated film and serving popcorn. Hums or sings and dances. Possible chance of timeout < 0%.
  • Category 2 Mommy: Responds to a ping with “Yes, honey bear?” or similar. Might be preparing a sugary snack, getting out the Play-Doh, or cuing up a feature length animated film. Hums or sings. Possible chance of timeout up to 10%.
  • Category 3 Mommy: Responds to a ping with “Yes?” or similar. Might be preparing a healthy, but kid-approved snack, getting out the crayons, or cuing up a Nick Jr. show. Might hum. Possible chance of timeout up to 30%.
  • Category 4 Mommy: Responds to a ping with “What?” or similar. Might be serving water and carrots, throwing out the Play-Doh, or cuing up a PBS show. Might grumble or yell. Possible chance of timeout served in your bedroom up to 75%.
  • Category 5 Mommy: Responds to a ping with “Get away from me!” or similar. Might be serving herself chocolate chips and Pringles, burning stuffed animals, tossing children’s DVDs like ballistic Frisbees. Will certainly grumble, mumble, and likely shout and cry. Possible chance of giving everyone in the house, including herself and the dogs, a timeout in their respective bedrooms is 100%.

Hope you’re in for sunny skies today. Things are looking like we’ve got a 50% chance of “don’t make me repeat myself” here in my house. Better bring the Pringles, just in case.

I’m a solid 2.75 most days except when I’m hungry.  Or tired.  Or when I need a cup of coffee.  What about you?  — Wendy


photo-63
Click through to read these hilarious posts:  I love Is Crack Still Whack? and Requiem for Pedro the Fish (her graphics kill me too, so funny – especially in the latter post!).  This post about Alton Brown called If You Can’t Stand the Heat, Get into the Bedroom  is a good eat…er, read.  And finally, the post where she asks What Are Your House Rules?

Nicole Leigh Shaw is on Facebook (it’s her birth control, duh.), Twitter, NickMom and Moms.FortWayne.  Go say hi and tell her I sent ya!  

The Four Categories of Mom Hair – Paige Kellerman Guest Post

After a couple weeks of vacation, my Friday Take Over is back and I’ve got a super talented writer by the name of Paige Kellerman for you.  Paige writes a humor blog with the tag line “A tongue in cheek look at figuring out how to raise babies, feed the dog, and love your husband without sarcasm” and her first book titled “At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles” drops this summer!  Today Paige is sharing with us a post about mom hair.  Oh hell, this topic could be series.  Enjoy.

Well hi there, everyone! Today we’re going to talk about hair.

No takers?

mom hair

What if I told you this post isn’t about disclosing the last time we shaved our legs?  Oh, ok, I see one hand raised in the back.  Thank you for your interest.  I also love your headband.  I have an affinity for paisley as well.  Now, where was I?  Ahh, yes.  Gather round, ladies.  It’s time to talk about “Mom hair,” the categories, and where we fall in the whole, great debacle.

Category 1: The Long Hair Mom 

This type of mother (yours truly) keeps her hair as long as those over-grown pythons you read about in National Geographic.  Slightly frizzy at the ends, with questionable layers, this mom’s hair can usually be found in messy buns, ponytails, warrior braids, or any other style that keep strands out of the mouths of children and away from slamming car doors.  She’s well away that having long hair is about showing off the fact that she has long hair, but styling it takes time she just.doesn’t.have.  She usually cries herself to asleep at night.

Category 2:The Short Hair Mom 

A lover of sports, running and functionality, the short-haired mom chooses to crop her hair in a boyish cut, leaving the nape of the neck exposed and herself hoping that she’s not growing an unsightly mole back there.  A risky move, the short hair can go the fashionable way of Victoria Beckham, or walk the frightening lines of a NFL player.  She doesn’t care, as she’s able to wash it, shake it and get her kids in that Ford Windstar before you’ve even had your coffee.  Being confused with her husband occasionally, is a small price to pay for staying on schedule.

Category 3: The Mid-Length Mom 

I dabble here from time to time.  The Mid-Length Mom enjoys headbands, teeny, tiny ponytails, and marathons of What Not to Wear.  She thinks to herself, “I might grow it out. I might cut it off super short. I might just dye it a crazy color.”  She does none of these, continues finishing off the left-over Pop Tarts, and yells at the screen,”Stacy said to follow the rules. That’s why you look like a yeti in a lemon yellow mumu.”

Category 4: The “Perfectly styled at all times” mom

Usually hated by moms in categories 1 and 2, the perfectly styled mom is a freak of nature.  She’s been up before the crack of dawn blow drying, flat-ironing, and applying a mythical thing moms used to refer to as “eye shadow.”  Once thought to be extinct, the “perfectly styled mom” can be spotted whizzing here and there in her Land Rover;  the sweetness of her laughter eclipsed only by the musical “tinkling” of her diamond tennis bracelet.  Short and long hair moms usually try and throw things in her hair while she’s not looking.

What to do?  I’ve given it a little thought, and although I may look like a swamp monster from time to time, I’ll hold onto my hair.  The last time I cut it off, I ended up in a little ball, stroking my bangs and assuring myself that anyone can pull off a paper bag over their head.  Although, out of consideration for Husband, who’s convinced I’m going to grow it to my heels, braid it, buy Birkenstocks, and sell organic melons door to door, I might consider it.

I’ve never liked melon.

Thanks for letting me visit, Wendy! The rest of you get back out there and whip that hair.

paige-kellerman-author

PaigeKellerman.com

Paige’s blog can be found at PaigeKellerman.com.

Be a friend and go see what else she what she’s serving up. I can totally relate to this post called Order Up which is all about demanding patrons. I laugh my ass off every time I see the photo in this post called The Top Seven Things I Want On My Gravestone: Because Ten Would Be in Poor Taste. And finally, I love this one because I’d totally eat the Skittles too: Jury Duty.

Paige can also be found on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

 

 

 

Those Stupid Shopping Carts: Why I Shop on Weekends – Kim Bongiorno

I’ve got Kim Bongiorno taking the reigns here today  for my Friday Take Over!  Did you hear me?  Kim Bongiorno from Let Me Start By Saying.  She’s a published author and creator of the wildly popular holiday site ElfShaming.com.  She’s not only appeared on The Dr. Oz Show but also has been featured on the front page of The Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, and Mamalode.  Kim Bongiorno is a brilliant writer and I just know you’ll love her as much as I do.  Enjoy!

I had to take both kids to the grocery store this morning, alone.

On a Sunday.

With impending thunderstorms en route.

So pretty much it was guaranteed everyone and their mother would be there.

(P.S.!! Miss A didn’t nap yesterday, and both kids went to bed late last night!!! All cards stacked against me!!!! I was THRILLED at the prospect of doing this!!!!!)

I asked around if anyone had 2 tranquilizer darts or a shot of whiskey before I left, but none could be found. Alas, I headed to face my Fate.

When we get there, the mini terrors scanned the lot until they saw the Dreaded Car Shopping Cart and began pleading, promising to be Really Good Listeners if they rode in that.

This is what they look like, if you are lucky enough to not have ever had to lay a hand on one before:

Please note that those little wheels in front only appear like handy-dandy stroller wheels that help you whiz around your local Stop & Shop with ease as your kids happily ‘steer’ their ride and are so distracted by the novelty of such an invention they forget you are running errands. They are, in fact, stationary useless knobs.

Please allow me to describe what is actually like to shop with one of these monsters.

First, you approach the cart with your kids. There is always one missing steering wheel, so they immediately begin fighting over who gets to sit in the steering position first. Which means, of course, halfway through your shopping trip you have to stop and safely (by “safely”, I mean rip the kid currently sitting in the desired seat out, screaming, while the other kids goes nah-nah-na-nah-nah as he moves into her seat, then shove & lock the 1st kid into the now-empty less-desired seat, all without blocking other shoppers from doing their errands and not swearing too loudly to call even more attention to yourself…that’s what I mean by “safely”) switch your kids’ seats so they do each get a turn, dragging out the nightmarish experience of grocery shopping with your kids in the first place.

Then you notice that the car is FILTHY. If I had some Petri dishes to fill up, my guess I’d find some fresh samples of e coli, fecal matter, Ebola virus, snot, and swine flu having a party in there. Pull out your Purell Antibacterial wipes, do your best.

Then strap in 70 pounds of wriggly kids fighting over who gets the remaining steering wheel seat. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Now it’s time to push. I’m no engineer, but I can tell you this: strapping a 10-or-so pound plastic car with 70 pounds of kids in it to the front of a slim metal shopping cart makes the weight distribution rather uneven, unless you happen to have an 80-pound handbag with you and place it in the shopping cart seat by the handle bar where kids normally sit.

Pushing these carts with your kids in them is an act I expect some day to see added to the World’s Strongest Man Competition on tv, alongside of log-tossing and freight-train pulling.

To give you an idea, I am 5′ 9.5″ tall, 160 pounds and am surprisingly strong. To get this contraption moving from a full stop once there are actual groceries in it, I have to put ALL my body weight into and push with all my might. Every single person who sees you trying to manhandle one of these monsters down the aisle immediately defers to you, pulls their cart off to the side and presses their body flat against the row of canned vegetables or cereal boxes to give you wide, wide berth, all with pity flooding their eyes.

Add to this the fact that you have a 3-year-old and 5-year-old wrestling in the stupid car thingy, so you spend half your shopping trip yelling at your kids and the other half fighting the burn of lactic acid buildup in your muscles due to heaving the biggest, heaviest shopping cart ever invented around a Super Stop & Shop.

Good times.

By the time I got to the checkout, we were making a scene. And by “we”, I mean the 2 kids screaming like Pterodactyls in the front of my Dreaded Car Shopping Cart. I was taking deep breaths, talking myself out of leaving them on the curb this Tuesday with the Recycling.

They actually opened another register for me, just to get me out of there. So generous!

I’m multi-tasking at the register: tossing bagged groceries into the cart, quietly threatening my children, passing over my discount card to be scanned, and punching in my PIN# to pay for everything. The Pterodactyl children divide: Mr T climbs out of the car and stands where I tell him He Better Stand Quietly Or Else and Miss A just screams hysterically, crying, because she can’t figure out how to unbuckle herself and escape.

The cashier just looked at me and started laughing, which prompted me to calmly say:

“Oh, we’re just here as a Birth Control Public Service Announcement for all the teenagers here. Don’t mind us.”

The cashier right behind me and the people she was checking out all started laughing, and I was like “I’m serious, we’re professionals”.

I paid, my cashier yells out “Good luck, ma’am” (even though I’m like 20 years younger than her… WTH?) and out I go to the parking lot.

Once we get to the truck, I lock both kids into their seats, and load the back.

As I go to put the stupid Dreaded Car Shopping Cart in the proper area, thinking this nightmare is almost over, a late-50’s guy approaches me, smiling (smiling!) and says:

“Ha ha ha! I saw you inside (points to grocery store)….hang in there! Ha ha ha!”

Yeah dude, hilarious. I gave him The Stink Eye and left.

And Hubby wonders why I refuse to shop on the weekends when I have both kids. Sigh.

Kim Bongiorno Headshot 2012 400x560 Labeled I absolutely hate those stupid shopping carts and my girl begs every single time to ride in one when we grocery shop.  It never fails that she is usually walking beside the SUV of shopping carts half-way through our trip – likely because the inside grosses her out just as much as it does me!  

If you loved Kim’s post, I think you need to STOP everything you’re doing and click on over to these gems.  Psychological Warfare: GAME ON!, Hold the Door: Lessons for My Kids, and my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE I Showed You My Bad Clothes Days, You Showed Me Yours!  DO IT NOW! 

Kim Bongiorno can be found on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.  

Kim also is one of Some Kick Ass Mom Bloggers who contributed to I Just Want to Pee Alone.  Don’t forget to enter my giveaway to win a copy of the book and a $25 Starbucks gift card!  Giveaway ends: March 23, 2013.