Happy Halloween from The Mommies Network

Photo & pumpkin by Karin Amundsen - TMN Operations Board

A Halloween Missive

I remember when I was a kid and couldn’t wait for Halloween.

We would wear our costumes to school, have little parades where each classroom would stroll around the playground and get cheered on by parents and teachers, who were also dressed head-to-toe in their costumes. There would be treats and parties, the principal and vice-principal would even get in on the gig.

After school, we’d all go home on the buses, grab a quick bite to eat and then head off with our flashlights and Jack-O’-Lantern buckets, going from house to house in the neighborhood. We’d be greeted with Snickers, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Smarties and the occasional popcorn ball.

We’d all enjoy going to Mr. France’s house, because that’s where the goods were. Not only did Mr. France decorate his tail off, complete with cobwebs, a graveyard and bats hanging from trees, but he made you work for the candy. And the harder you worked, the more (and better) candy you got.

Like every other house, when you knocked on Mr. France’s door, he’d give you a piece of candy. But that’s only the start. Each Halloween, Mr. France placed pieces of tape at different lengths from his door, all the way back to about 15 feet. After receiving your initial deposit, he’d direct the kids to the first piece of tape. The idea was simple: catch the candy he’d throw at you and move on to the next piece of tape. The further you went back, the better the candy. If you caught all the candy, you got a night’s worth of candy plus he’d give you $1.

Sounds easy, right? Try doing it in the dark with no light except for the small porch light that he dimmed each Halloween. It was a true test of how badly you wanted your candy. I never caught all the candy; made it close a couple times, but never reached Nirvana.

One of our neighbors was considered the unofficial “rest stop,” with parents who welcomed all the kids inside, offered some juice or hot chocolate. Usually had homemade popcorn balls, as well as candy. They asked all the kids to sign their Halloween “welcome” book, where you’d sign your name and write down what your costume was. They would point out to the older kids what they were when they came by at, oh, age 5. Truly embarrassing for some.

At the end of the night, you’d head home (or to your friend’s house) and divvy up your booty, making trades and bartering Mounds and Almond Joys like they were beaver pelts and deer skins. Candy took on more value than $100 chips at The Bellagio. I’ll trade you three bite-sized Baby Ruths for your full-size Whatchamacallit, you’d say, keenly aware the Whatchamaccallit was the most underrated candy in confectionary history.

The bartering would continue the next day in school. In school, you say? Of course, because we went trick-or-treating on school nights, since statistically it is more likely to have Halloween fall on such a day (I did the math: 71.4% likelihood).

Unfortunately, my daughter probably won’t be able to experience the same thrills. You see, a number of things have changed. For one, there wasn’t the stigma that an extra from Law & Order: SVU was hiding behind the bushes. Or in the home next door. We knew our neighbors; they were our friends.

People began putting bowls of candy outside their doors, not wanting to take the time to open their doors for the kids in the neighborhood. Inevitably, the older kids would dump the whole bowl in their bags and leave nothing for the younger kids. This led people to not even participate, which led to fewer houses for kids in traditional neighborhoods. This led to parents dropping their kids off at townhome complexes or malls or, the biggest crime of all, trunk-or-treat locales.

Then towns got worried about costumed groups of kids roaming the streets on weeknights, leading to designated trick-or-treat nights (usually Fridays or Saturdays). Which meant some people who had weekend plans didn’t participate. Or left big bowls of candy outside their doors, which led to the aforementioned problems.

Kids have also grown up too quickly, especially our girls. Remember when little Janie, Julie or Janet wanted to be princesses or fairies or some sort of animal? Today, those girls want such illuminating (and revealing) costumes as Go-Go Girl, Tavern Wench, Rag Darlin’ (which sort of looks like Raggedy Ann-meets-Tavern Wench) and the Britney Spears-inspired Mega Star. And who doesn’t want their child to emulate Britney?

Let’s not even get started on the whole healthy eating craze, which costs our children the joy of Roll-Os, Sweet Tarts and Hershey bars. Fig Newtons and apples? You should be ashamed.

It’s all too much. We want our children to have a childhood, but we want to protect them from the evils of the world. It’s a delicate balance. I’m no different. But I understand that this is a simple little holiday, meant to bring out the child in all of us and offer candy makers of the world their chance to make their annual profits on the backs on babes. It’s meant to provide kids one night to pretend they’re something else, to find enjoyment in imagination and be rewarded for their creative nature with treats that make even the oldest of us salivate.

But today’s world is much different, say the naysayers. There are dangers around every corner, behind every door. Nobody wants to give your something for nothing. Everyone has a motive. Everyone has a skeleton in their closet.

The only skeleton I remember was hanging from Mr. France’s tree. In plain view for everyone to see. Like his smile when he waved us goodbye, wishing us good travels and Jack-O’-Lanterns filled with treats.

James Moffat is a former journalist and the author of Growing Up Kaitlyn. He and his wife, Michelle, have been married for nearly four wonderful years (plus another two) and are the parents of 21-month-old Kaitlyn Riley. You can reach him at jmoffat_gc@yahoo.com, or tweet him @jamesmoffat.

Battle of Wills

I've been trying to get my bed back from Soren now for a few weeks, to no avail. It's become a power struggle and one I admit I am losing to a 3 month old. He did great sleeping in his crib for a few hours in the early night for a little while. But then he would wake up utterly ticked off that he was not in my bed. And beyond ticked off that he wakes up and I'm not there either.

I know he can do it. When it's J's night he goes down peacefully almost every time. Yet when it's my turn he stays asleep only on my shoulder. The moment I put him down in his crib, or car seat, or bouncy seat, or anything that is not me or my bed, I begin the mental countdown of 5 minutes before he will inevitably wake up and start letting me know under no circumstances are these sleeping arrangements to be tolerated.

I caved for awhile during our week of flu here, in order to get any kind of sleep possible. Since he wakes up every 2 hours, it was killing me to wake up, get out of bed, stumble upstairs, nurse him, and then spend an hour trying to get him to go to sleep again, stumble back down into bed only to have Ashe or Zavi need me, and by the time I finished helping them out Soren was up again. So I selfishly brought him into bed with me in order to survive. And that worked great for him. So great, in fact, he has decided to take up permanent residence again in the middle of our bed.

Last night was my night to get Soren to sleep. The night before J was able to get him to conk out in the crib. he did wake up once screaming and I had to go in and console him until he passed out again, but my point is he slept in his crib on Js night. So when it was my turn last night I figured we could do the crib thing again no problem. He passed out and I placed him in his crib, comatose, and prepared to pop on to my game. He lasted 10 minutes before I heard him whine, then bawl. I grabbed him, checked his diaper, gave him a pacifier, and rocked him to sleep. I gently put him down in his crib and he woke up and started to bawl. Again. Resigned I took him out to the living room and settled down to watch House with him cuddled in my lap. Again, he passed out. No taste in TV shows if you ask me! I prepared his car seat and put him down. He stayed asleep for 5 minutes so I thought I was safe and tiptoed back upstairs to game.

About 15 minutes later I heard him wake up and start to whine again. I wasn't ready to give up though. I went AFK, brought him and his car seat up and set it beside me. He seemed happy so long as I was in his line of sight, and contently watched me raid for about an hour. But he wouldn't sleep. Oh no.

At about 9:30 he starts to fuss again. I finally succumbed to the realization that I would most likely not be raiding anymore for the night, so I left the raid, gated back to the guild hall, threw up my AFK tag and grabbed Soren. We headed downstairs to watch more TV until he passed out. Fortunately I had DVRd Ancient Secrets of the Egyptians so I had something to watch that was actually interesting. Soren was just content in hanging onto me for dear life, eyes wide, staring at my face. Staring me down. We both knew this was a battle of wills and he was determined to win!

I held out for awhile. I too, was determined to win this night, but after an hour passed with him never straying his gaze from me, I realized I was defeated. Besides, my show was over and I had nothing else left to watch. Slowly I stood up, and walked towards my bedroom. The moment I put him down on the bed Soren gave me a huge toothless grin and started wiggling around like crazy. Think of it as the baby version of the happy dance football players do when they get a touch down. I muttered to him "Yeah yeah you won. Stop rubbing my face in it." He respectfully stopped, knowing it's not nice to rub salt into open wounded pride, and happily contented himself with playing with my face, hair, and most especially, my shirt. But still he refused to sleep.

After awhile I came onto an idea that I thought may help him pass out for good. I had noticed he was constantly clutching my shirt. So in a fit of inspiration, I took it off and handed it to him. He instantly clutched it to him like a life vest and promptly passed out cuddled to it within a minute. And he didn't wake up for 3 hours.

I didn't win getting my bed back last night. But I did learn something valuable. I learned that no matter what my baby feels absolutely contentedly safe and secure when I'm around (I knew that but it really hit me last night). And I learned when all else fails for getting a baby to sleep, I will literally give him the shirt off my back if it helps him. My only thought is to wonder if Soren is going to grow up and use my shirts as his lovey and how I'll survive the bill to buy myself new shirts to actually wear.

This post was submitted by Brittany (Rhaven at trianglemommies.com). Visit her blog at http://suburbanrebelmom.blogspot.com/

Worry

I have realized that since becoming a mom I worry a lot more than I ever have in my life. Coming from a person who was an over-achiever in every school I ever attended and who is now responsible for the education of 20 little lives every year in the first grade, this is a pretty big feat. I worry about everything! I worry from the time I wake tup till the time I go to bed, and sometimes even in between. I never thought this would be my life, and yet, here I am.

I worry about Riley’s eating. Is she eating enough? Too much? Enough solids? Too much solids and not enough liquids? At night, am I giving her too much formula and not enough breast milk? Am I pumping enough to continue to make her liquid diet 99% breast milk? The list goes on an on. I know I’m not the first mom in the world to have so many worries, but sometimes I feel like I am. No one else that I talk to seems to worry this much. So then I worry that I worry too much. To quote Dane Cook, it’s a “vicious circle.”

I worry about Riley’s development. She is a beautiful 6 month old who loves to laugh and give kisses. But I worry because she hasn’t rolled over yet and shows no interest in crawling. I was walking at 7 months and Riley can only sit up. Now she does stand against things, and has taken 5 steps while I held her hands. But she shows no sign of doing it on her own. So I worry. I compare.

I worry about her health. She had her first fever this week and I was certain she was getting the flu. Working in an elementary school, I live with germs all day long and I’m so scared I’m going to bring something home one day. Turns out, it was just a reaction to her shots on Monday, but still, it was scary. I worry about her digestive system when she doesn’t poop, and then again when she seems to poop too much! It seems like there is always something new to worry about!

I’m a horrible parent.

No I’m not. I only want the best for my daughter and sometimes I feel like there is this first year checklist that I am meant to check things off of. But from now on I am going to make a conscious effort to throw that checklist away and just delight in the everyday things that Riley does. She gave me a hug on Thursday for the first time. She bounced in her jumper yesterday. Today, as I write this, she is sitting up next to me (all on her own!), leafing through a magazine and happily ripping it to shreds and gumming it up. I haven’t finished reading it yet, but instead of taking it away, I just let her have it. Am I a little worried about paper cuts and the ink getting into her mouth? Yeah. But she’s having fun. And that’s all that matters.

Christina Gordon is a first grade teacher in Winston Salem, NC. She has been married for three years and has a beautiful baby girl, Riley Grace, who is six months.

A Dad's Point of View: In Sickness and in Health

My wife had a medical emergency early one recent morning. The details are unimportant, but the care and response that we received were very important. At five a.m., she called her doctor and got him on the phone. He said we should call 911, which we did. Within a few minutes both a paramedic vehicle and a fire truck arrived at our door. Moments later, she was getting attended to by three men in uniforms while I sat nearby feeling useless.

It was quickly determined by their efforts and in conference with the doctor that she was well enough for me to drive her to the hospital. So, less than 30 minutes after this began we were on the road. As it was so early, the drive was traffic-free and we entered the Emergency Room as the sun was rising. Thankfully, it was a quiet morning there so we were quickly ushered into “Triage” and then given a bed. In no time, a nurse had begun an IV and shortly afterward, the doctor on call did an exam. He had already spoken with my wife’s primary doctor.

A couple of hours later, she was in a regular bed in the hospital. And, shortly thereafter, she was wheeled to the pre-op area and had a minor surgery at mid-afternoon, of this same day. In post-op, she was quite out of it, thanks to the anesthesia kicking in. Our discussion centered on her desire to extort jewelry out of me since she felt entitled due to this event. The nurses were being thoroughly unhelpful as they discussed the size of the diamond she should receive as compensation. I was able to dodge this, thanks to the anesthesia, as she later forgot all about that misguided idea. About 14 hours after the whole episode began, we were back home, and she was in her own bed, and eating some hastily made pasta made by my our emerging super-chef, my younger son.

Somehow, I have a hard time believing this would’ve happened as quickly, as perfectly, as attentively, and with as much kindness and care if we end up with national health-care, managed by the government. To be fair, let’s consider opposing viewpoints.

My wife’s parents live in Canada and her mother recently had surgery for a brain tumor. When this was discovered, a MRI was ordered. So they waited. And waited. Over two months later, they finally got the MRI only due to the fact that her surgeon intervened, as he wanted to do her surgery prior to his month-long August vacation. Thankfully, the surgery and post-op have been wonderfully successful and her parents were not only grateful, but especially proud of the fact that it cost them in the hundreds of dollars vs. the hundreds of thousands of dollars it might have cost elsewhere.

Further, my wife’s family has an uncle who claims that he would have been broke and/or dead without the benefit of Canada’s health-care system, since he’s been the unlucky victim of numerous serious illnesses and surgeries.

My own parents, who died at ages 89 and 90, had about a dozen major surgeries between them. Ironically, most were at the same hospital where my wife had her recent surgery. My dad was a self-insured blue-collar worker, while my mom managed the family finances and was the quintessential fifties housewife. I can’t imagine how they would have financially survived their various health traumas without the benefit of Medicare.

I don’t know which system is best and I don’t want to advocate any system. I just want to thank God for the care my wife just received. I realize, yet again, that the only wealth is our health. I look at my boys in times like these and reflect how lucky I am to have a teen with “attitude,” unlike a good friend of mine whose son has Cystic Fibrosis. Or my pre-teen who likes to question everything I ask of him, when another good friend of mine has two pre-teens with such problematic learning disabilities that he wonders how or if they’ll ever be able to take care of themselves.

I am reminded that “sweating the little things” is really foolish, that appreciating all we so often take for granted is the key to happiness, and that my wife’s pies are truly a gift from heaven to cite just one of the many little miracles she provides our family. I also am grateful that my boys were caring enough that they both called to check on their step-mom rather than think of whatever inconveniences this episode might cause them.

And, finally, I’m grateful to the doctors, paramedics and firemen, and other medical staff members who dropped whatever they were doing, on a moment’s notice, and took special care of my wife. When we made our vows, little did we know that we’d be tested on the “in sickness and in health” area as quickly and as often as we have been. I believe that it’s the stressful times that test a relationship the most. I hope that I passed the test this time.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including contact info for advice and coaching, an archive of his columns, general contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 75 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 16 and 13. Find Bruce on Facebook and add him as your friend. Just be sure to tell him you saw him here.

My Princess

Last week, I experienced a rare case of insomnia. My brain was stuck in high gear and all my attempts to sleep were miserable failures. After an hour or so spent staring at the ceiling criticizing myself for having not painted my bedroom, I decided to get out of bed. I drug myself down the hall, flopped on the living room sofa and flipped on the television. My intention was to find something mindless to bore me back to sleep. That didn’t happen.

What did happen was a certain reality television show that left me absolutely stunned and literally in tears. I am referring to Toddlers & Tiaras - a series that follows little girls and boys and their families’ in their pursuit of crowns, titles and benjamins. Have you seen this? We are talking fake tans, fake nails, fake eyelashes, fake hair and much more makeup than should ever be seen on a 5 year old girl. I was apalled.

Don’t get me wrong, I support healthy competition for our children. I mean, even “losers” get medals these days *rolling eyes*. These 5 year old divas are being trained to behave like 20 year olds and that is just plain disturbing. They have their mommy’s wrapped around their fakely manicured $30.00 fingers. Aren’t our children being forced into societal pressures and maturity early enough? As if that is not bad enough, these beauty queens are being taught - NO, brianswashed is a much better word - that being pretty and perfect is the most important thing they have going. WRONG-O! Barbies, playing outside with mudpies, giggling with other little girls their age and believing that mom and dad are their heros are the most important things going.

Oh, maybe you’re thinkin’ I am just a big hater? Ok. Sure. I’ll give you that. Every year about this time, I see the ads in the local news for our local Fair Jr. King and Queen. These ads get a big “humpfh” of disgust from me. Those kiddos are adorable in their Wranglers and cowboy/cowgirl hats, but I am thinking…heck, I can barely get my kids put together for a family Christmas shoot. I really do admire these mom’s of these beauty pageant contestants. Their creativity in avoiding meltdowns and tantrums is unrivaled. It really would be frustrating to spend the time, effort and money to transform your toddler into a mini Anna Nicole Smith only to have her meltdown kicking and screaming on the floor. What I do not admire is how pathetic it is to want to live vicariously through your child no matter the cost.

And what do I know about any of this anyway? I have a 5 year old girl myself. She adores the dress up trunk Santa supplied her on Christmas morning. She clacks around the house in her plastic pink heels showing her kiddie cleavage to the world. She thinks she’s gorgeous in her plastic diamond necklace and tiara. You know what? She is gorgeous. Her innocence and naivete’ are priceless and touching. I would kill anyone who even dared take that from her.

Guess what pageant moms? I don’t even have to spend my husband’s paycheck to feel that pride for my little princess - and she wins 1st prize EVERYTIME!

This post was contributed by Kathleen from HoustonAreaMommies.com

Mommy and Wife

Obviously when you have an infant, your child is your first priority always. However I have had this discussion with a few of my girlfriends, and it is hard when you have your first baby to be both a mom and a wife sometimes. I have learned through the past three months how to be a mom, and it was a very stressful and amazing transition. However, before I had my baby I had a lot of resentment towards my husband. My hormones were raging and I felt like he had no idea how I was feeling and what I was going through. It was a stressful time for me because I was preparing for childbirth and for a huge change in my life. Then when I came home with the baby, of course he and I both had to get use to having our little one, and how to take care of her. We both experienced confusion, exhaustion, and happiness. As time has moved forward now (three months exactly) I am coming to find that I feel very overwhelmed trying to be both a mother and a wife. I am constantly trying to keep up with looking for a job, cleaning the house, feeding and taking care of the baby, and getting through each day. I feel like my entire world is my child as I still adjust to her schedule, and her constant changes. When it comes to time with my husband, I am too exhausted or honestly just wanting some alone time. I also have noticed that I feel resentment again, because I feel as if I do everything with the baby and I am left with no help from him. I don't want this blog to be about my husband or negative comments about him, because he and I are both going through changes. It is just difficult because you expect men to understand or open their eyes and see you and all you go through. You want them to naturally be aware of the amount of effort you put into each day and want to help you. I am sure all of us feel that way, and of course I know that happens in my dream world.

I have heard many people's marriages take a toll when a new baby comes into the household because both husband and wife are not understanding each other's feelings. My husband may want me to notice he works and he is tired, and I am at home and therefore I take care of the baby. When he is off he wants to relax and have time to himself. I understand this whole concept, truly I do, but I feel that when you have kids, say goodbye to your personal relaxation time and hello to being a parent. I think of when I get a moment to relax, it is usually when I go to bed at night or when I am venting on my blog (lol). There is always something to be done, and with our economy and personally being unemployed, I never get a moment of peace. I want him to see me and say, hey you need a break, you sleep an extra hour and I will help you out today. The most simple things like showering without worrying about a baby crying or sleeping for another hour when your up every morning at 5am is such a treat! When you have to constantly ask for help, it is wearing, and frustrating. I have a lot of new mommy friend's who are experiencing similar conversations with their husbands, " You have no idea what I do all day! What I have to go through! What do you think I sit around all day relaxing?"

My husband and I were given advice by a friend which was; for me to go out an entire day and leave the baby home with him with a list of things to do, such as laundry or cleaning. This is so he can identify and experience what I go through during my day. We have yet to do this....I mean I run errands alone occasionally, but I am still waiting for us to plan a day. I also have to be prepared for an eventful evening when I come home since the baby's schedule may be out of whack, since mommy and daddy do things a little different :) I just find that the compliments on how nice I look, or what a good job I am doing, no longer exist. This builds resentment, which then in turn causes me not to be the wife I can and want to be. It is all a learning experience which I am sure we will get through, it is just frustrating and disheartening in the process. My favorite phrase I tell my friends when they are frustrated is, " You love him dearly, but you don't always have to like him" :)

This post was submitted by Molly Bortree. Visit her blog at http://mollysamommy.blogspot.com/

Journal Entries

I've always wanted to be a writer. The problem is that while I've always excelled at writing more academic compositions, I just don't have the creativity to write for pleasure. In fact, I truly believe that creative writing is more difficult than writing a comprehensive research paper. At any rate, writing is a profession I've always romanticized. I picture myself sitting with a notebook in front of me, each page the perfect thickness between my fingers as I flip through the binding, holding a pen whose ink does not run out and emerges steadily as words flow effortlessly from my head to my hand. This is not a believable vision and I realize that. Nonetheless, after my son, Benjamin, was born nearly 11 months ago, I began to feel those prickly nudges to write down some of the intense thoughts and emotions I was feeling as I watched my child grow and thrive from a helpless, smushy newborn into a confident, curious almost-toddler. In an effort to get these thoughts down on paper before they were pushed to the very back of my brain (which now devotes the majority of its energies to remembering when Ben last ate or pooped and trying to recall on the way to work if my husband or I remembered take the chicken breast out of the freezer to thaw before dinner), I resolved to keep a journal. No pressure to record exhaustive entries, just a place to jot down my own personal notes. Who was I kidding? Below is an entry from my journal that I wrote on October 8, 2009:

3:00 pm

I thought when I committed to writing in this journal more often (at least once every other day),

9:00 pm

Right. I started that entry around 3:00 pm, thinking I had about an hour of freedom left during Ben's afternoon nap. I spent the first hour sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor (something that wasn't necessary to do 3 times a day before Ben started eating regular table food and realized the cat likes to bat discarded Goldfish crackers around the kitchen floor), picking up toys around the house, and dusting and vacuuming the family room. No sooner had my butt hit the couch and my hand picked up my journal and pen did I hear that waking-up whimper strain through the monitor. I sat quietly, as if stilling myself completely would somehow prevent Ben from waking up two floors above me. The waking-up whimper quickly progressed into the initial wail that will, in the span of 5-10 seconds, evolve into the, "Mom, come get me right now!" yell. Dammit. Sighing, I put down my pen, clamp my journal shut, and hustle up the steps to retrieve my boy.

As soon as I open his door, the smell of a fresh diaper hits me. Whoa! Poor kid. Ben has an unfortunate habit of waking himself up from naps in this fashion. Once he, well, goes, there's no return to sleep. I scoop my flailing boy out of his crib and change his diaper. By the time we reach the blowing-raspberries-on-Benny's-belly portion of our diaper-changing routine, my boy is all smiles. I scoop him once more and together we settle into the rocking chair. Ben nuzzles into me as I nurse him. By the time we reach the Ben-reaches-up-to-touch-Mom's-nose-until-she-makes-the-"honk, honk"- sound portion of our post-nap nursing routine, I've completely forgotten about my unfinished (well, barely started) journal entry.

Maybe I'll work harder at being a writer tomorrow.

This post was written by Amanda Link, mom to Benjamin Daniel, born November 20, 2008

Ramblings of a Mom

I have been sitting here looking at my computer trying to come up with something to say. What can I bring to The Mommies Network Blog that hasn't already been said. Probably nothing but I will put a new spin on whatever happens to pop into my head while I enjoy the wonderful quiet of nap time. So here goes nothing my 1st attempt to "blog".

I have nothing I am drawing a complete blank when it comes to something that I think would really mean something to someone. So maybe my blog can just be a good read for other moms. I tried to think of something profound to say but that only happens once in a while. There are so many things swirling around in my head here are a few..........

1) Didn't I just vacuum yesterday but it looks like tiny of crumbs have come to die on my carpets.
2) Why do I spend money toys when my daughter is happy playing with an empty diaper box
3) Do I look as fat as I think I do?
4) Please let this nap last more than 20minutes
5) Why is my cell phone never charged and why can't I get a signal in my own house
6) Will the laundry EVER end?

A mother's job is never done. I love the small things like watching her sleep, walk, open cabinets. On the other hand I down right hate the mundane activities of housework. I guess it is a catch 22 the good with the bad.

For now I will crank up my ipod and fold some clothes.. and cross my fingers that nap time is just 1 minute longer than usual.


This post was written by Ryan R, a member of RichmondMommies.com. Visit her blog at http://wonderfulrichmondmom.blogspot.com/

A Dad's Point of View: Who Said Marriage Should Be Work?

I recently learned some statistics that surprised me, but upon reflection they really made sense. What do you think the rate of divorce is between first, second, and third marriages? Think about it. I didn’t and came to the wrong conclusion.

It’s pretty much agreed by most experts that first marriages end in divorce about 40-50% of the time. What surprised me is that the divorce rate increases with second marriages to something like 60% and more, while third marriages end in divorce at least 70% of the time.

My first gut reaction was that we would have learned from prior mistakes, we’d be wiser with the experience of living through a marriage and divorce, and maybe, just maybe, we may have learned something about our contributions to the break-up. And, therefore, we’d not repeat destructive behaviors.

When I reflected on the challenges in my own house and applied some common sense, those statistics became more logical. The reality is that the older we get, the more we’ve experienced, the more we’re likely to be set in our ways, and the more stress that is likely to come our direction. By this I mean that with age often comes increased problems.

In my new, second marriage my wife and I have already dealt with the death of a parent, a significant loss of savings via the recession, a severe downturn in one of our professions (real estate), blending our families with my kids, a parent’s serious surgery, two surgeries of our own, moving, one of our dogs sent to doggie prison for attacking another dog, and a teenager.

I believe everyone in life has problems and, as I stated to my wife just yesterday, I wouldn’t switch mine with anyone I know and I’m especially grateful for our family’s present good health. Health is indeed the greatest wealth, without a doubt. I’m also extremely grateful for the growth of my new career as a columnist, so I have little to complain about.

But, second marriages are a challenge and ours is no exception. Thankfully, we’re both able and willing to work on it. For us, it has meant occasional sessions with a therapist. For others, it may be clergy that can offer an objective view and unemotional help.

We’ve also both been willing to read some of the better self-help books. One we especially found illuminating was “The Five Love Languages” by Gary Chapman, which taught us, to our surprise, that we’re different from one another in how we express love and want love expressed in return. The lessons learned and the realization of what each of our “love languages” is has been helpful, though as with so many things we know, applying them to our actions is harder than reading or hearing about them.

Some people say that marriage is “work.” While I agree with that to some degree, it’s the amount of “work” that is worth discussion. If your relationship is constantly fraught with fights and disagreements, non-stop sessions with therapists, and regular on-going tension in the house, then that is just too much “work.”

On the other hand, if you expect to just slide by without making adjustments in your own behavior and aren’t willing to explore the bigger issues via therapy, clergy, and/or discussion, then you’re not putting in enough “work.” Like everything in life, there’s a balance and the extremes tend to not work, to beat that word to death.

As passionate as I may be about a particular issue, there’s no question of my culpability in any stressful and meaningful argument or disagreement we have. And, to my wife’s credit, she says the same thing. Granted, she’s more emotional than I, but I’m more stubborn. I believe this is a normal gender balance. And, let’s face it; making up can be a lot of fun.

I’m going to offer a few suggestions that will help any relationship. These are ideas I learned, back in my showbiz career, when I attended a weekend seminar put on by the Catholic Church as a prerequisite for getting married in the church. I was developing a murder mystery, a TV movie; set against the background of such a couple’s retreat and I went undercover with the writer, as an engaged couple.

Not knowing each other well, we crafted new identities for each other, how we met, when we were getting married, likes and dislikes, etc. It was actually quite fun and extremely eye opening for us. Here are some of their valuable suggestions, which apply to first or fifth marriages:

1. Don’t go to bed angry.
2. Don’t call each other names.
3. Let go of old business, old issues. Debate them, argue them, and let them go.
4. Hold each other’s hand during an argument to remind each other of your connection and love (not easy).
5. When you agree to something, whether reluctantly or not, you cannot later say you didn’t agree to it. In other words, if you give in, you’ve let go of your right to complain later.

I maintain that this short list will enhance any relationship. Thankfully, I have a loving, willing partner with my wife and I know we’ll work through our issues and have a long, loving, fulfilling marriage.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including contact info for advice and coaching, an archive of his columns, general contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 75 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12. Find Bruce on Facebook and add him as your friend. Just be sure to tell him you saw him here.

Freebie Frenzy!

How to get great products for free!

Does it sound too good to be true to get products for free? There are many items I will never have to pay for again since unveiling the secrets of the freebie world. Companies want to give you products to try and you just have to know where to find the freebies. Here are a few of my favorite ways to receive free products:

1. Shop Walgreen’s/CVS/Rite Aid Sales – Drugstores are my favorite places to get freebies. These stores regularly offer products for free via their customer rewards program. If you can match coupons with the sales you may even make money on some items. Thanks to my local Walgreens, I will never again pay for toothpaste, toothbrushes, hair care items, soap, cold medicine, deodorant or lotion. Check out my website (link at bottom) every Sunday for the weekly list of freebies and deals at Walgreen’s.
2. Direct from Manufacturers and Companies – Do you have a product you love? Contact the company and ask for coupons or product samples. Many times you will even find free samples or coupons on the company website.
3. Join Vocalpoint – Just sign up and they will start mailing you Proctor & Gamble coupons and products. This program is great because you don’t have to log back on to the site once you’ve signed up. Just wait for your freebies to arrive in the mail. I’ve received free cereal bars, notepads and lots of coupons.
4. Be a Bzz Agent – This is a word of mouth marketing program and Bzz Agent sends you free full size products to sample and extra goodies or coupons to pass out to friends. You can report back to bzz agent about your reaction and friends’ opinions on the products you sample to earn additional rewards. I’ve received free cleaning supplies, TV Guide, Glade products, lotions, sunscreen, hair care products, gift cards and even tequila.
5. Join Kraft First Taste – How would you like some free Kraft food? Just sign up for Kraft First Taste program and you can be one of the first to try new Kraft products for free and give them your opinion.
6. Enter Blog Giveaways – Did you know there are thousands of blogs offering great prizes for free? You can win vacuums, books, coffee makers, toys, diapers and so much more! The giveaways are always free to enter and usually you just have to leave a comment on the blog/website to be entered to win. The odds to win are very good, since there are usually not a lot of entrants. This year alone I’ve won over 70 newly released books, a Wii game, DVD’s, toys and more from blog giveaways. Where do you find these giveaways? I have a list of blog giveaways on my site that is updated weekly. My top three sites for giveaway listings: Prizeatron, A Blog of Goodies, and Mom Giveaways.
7. Enter Sweepstakes – There are tons of great high value prizes you can win from sweepstakes. I’ve won many prizes, including $100 Omaha Steak Certificate, $160 in cash cards, movie tickets and 6 months of Netflix. Sweepstakes are always free to enter and the best site to find out about current sweeps is Sweeties Sweeps.

I encourage you to start your own freebie frenzy and have fun! It’s such a thrill to get all those free goodies in the mail. Even my 3 ½ year old daughter gets excited when the UPS man pulls up to the house now, ever since he brought her a Barbie I won.

This post was submitted by Nicole, who is passionate about saving money, good deals, coupons and freebies. She blogs daily at Mom Saves Money and you can follow her on twitter @momsavesmoney

Johnny and the Sprites

Before the Gabba Coma, there was Nonny.

"Johnny and the Sprites" was a Playhouse Disney television series that ran for two seasons. It was Kaitlyn's first foray into the world of Disney, her initiation to becoming a Disney Girl.

You see, there used to be joy in our house each morning, as Kaitlyn would stir around 6 a.m., which was our cue to get ready for the day. The only thing that would soothe our daughter while we showered and changed was the humming of John Tartaglia, Basil, Lily, Ginger and Root.

The first time we saw this show, I was surprised to find my wife laughing hysterically at the lyric "I just need an hour/with this cauliflower" being sung by the character Seymour (Episode title: Seymour the Sleuth, original air date: Feb. 2007. You're welcome, honey). That morning began a love affair for Kaitlyn with Johnny (or "Nonny," as he is known in our house) and his band of magical friends.

We watched the show every day, mostly because it was the only thing Kaitlyn wanted to do. Some of her first words were the characters on the show. When we were able to get our hands on a copy of the show's DVD, we had it on replay. When we found a soundtrack, we couldn't stop playing it out of fear of a tantrum. To this day Kaitlyn claps and cheers "yea Nonny" after each song.

We started DVR-ing episodes to have, just in case she wanted to watch Nonny sometime in the evening, or if she wasn't feeling well. We emptied the DVR of all but one episode sometime in the fall. A week later, Disney pulled the show from its Playhouse Disney rotation. Nonny was given the ax. We weren't given an explanation. No press release. Just some parents like me asking, "Why?"

The Sprite puppets probably are sitting in a warehouse somewhere on a backlot under the remains of a Fraggle. Tartaglia is now off on Broadway playing a wooden boy.

But life goes on in our house. The DVR-ed episode (Johnny's Not Invited/Basil and the Beanstalk) can now be recited word-for-word by my wife and I. We know the words to the CD like it was August and Everything After. Kaitlyn, while moving on to Mickey, Dora and others, still comes back to Nonny every so often. But it's not enough.

For those of you out there who understand this, are fans of Johnny and the Sprites, or just want to make my little girl happy, I have started an online petition asking the Big Mouse to bring Nonny back. At the every least, give me a way to watch old episodes with my daughter. Even if I have to pay for a damn DVD of the two seasons I was able to enjoy.

For your viewing pleasure:

James Moffat is a former journalist and the author of Growing Up Kaitlyn. He and his wife, Michelle, have been married for nearly four wonderful years (plus another two) and are the parents of 21-month-old Kaitlyn Riley. You can reach him at jmoffat_gc@yahoo.com, or tweet him @jamesmoffat.

Precious Moments

Somewhere among the moments I found out I was pregnant and the worries I might miscarry or not be a good mother, the ultrasounds and the first labor pains...

Among the moments I first laid eyes upon my children, curled my toes from the pains of breastfeeding, gazed into their trusting eyes, and caught a hint of their first smiles....

Somewhere along the pathways of their first attempts to crawl, then to walk, then run....

Lost in their butterfly kisses and "Mommy, I love you's" or in laughter at their little comedy routines...

While rocking them back to sleep in the middle of the night, blowing bubbles into the afternoon sky, or preparing for take-off as my legs become their airplane...

Sometime between the moments when they open their arms for me to pick them up in the morning and when they ask for another song at bedtime...

I hopelessly fell in love with my children.

Written by Kristin Dittl, a member of YorkCountyMommies

Property Rights

The mother had baked sugar cookies as a surprise for the family and to ruin the diets of her friends.

As the cookies lay cooling upon the table, waiting for icing the mother pointed to the cookies.

"Do you see the cookies?" the mother asks

"Tooky" replies Stripperella grinning in expectation

"Don't touch the cookie. They are hot." says the mother sternly

"Tot?" replies a much sadder Stripperella

"Yes they are hot. DO NOT TOUCH THE COOKIES."

"No Tooky?" whimpers the little con artist, eyes huge and glistening, lower lip starting to stick out.

"No cookie."

So the mother gives Stripperella some crackers hoping to reinforce the idea that the cookies are not for Stripperella's dining pleasure.

Once the cookies were cooled the mother mixed up her icing and began putting a layer of orange icing on the cookies planning to then go back with some brown and put jack o lantern faces on them.

The mother is concentrating hard on those faces when Stripperella comes back into the kitchen, crawls up in a chair and watches in fascination as the mother turns the previously drab cookies into bright appealing sources of a future sugar high.

Suddenly out of the corner of her eye the mother notices movement. There at the edge of the table sits Stripperella, head down and tongue out as she is marking an entire row of cookies as her very own!

"NO!" Yells the mother

"Mine tooky" replies Stripperella with a malicious gleam in her big baby blues.

"No LICKING THE COOKIES" says the mother in her evil Demon voice

Stripperella leans over at her mother's extended hand, which is pointing at Stripperella in condemnation, extends her tongue and licks the mother.

"Mine" says Stripperella softly.

Both touched and disgusted the mother hurriedly finishes the jack o lantern faces taking care to keep Stripperella's "special" cookies separate from the rest.

D.E. Mongomery is a member of CharlotteMommies and the author of “The Adventures of Curlylocks and Stripperella: A Modern Mother’s Tale” which is available on Amazon.com and the author’s E store at: https://www.createspace.com/3390652

Visit her fan page at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/D-E-Montgomery/121452927484?ref=nf

Fear in Childbirth

Why does birth instill such fear into women and the families who love them? I have a theory that partly it is due to the fact that birth is in part, violent. There is blood, there is pain, there is angst, but there is also passion, excitement, hormones, release. This is the height of human experience. We do not remember our own birth.. at least not on a conscious level. Subconsciously, perhaps, we remember the excitement and possibly, the adrenaline rushes, the tinge of danger, the "feel good" hormones coursing through our blood -- yes, even as infants. Why is that? Because WE KNOW HOW TO GIVE BIRTH. Not only do women's bodies know how to give birth, but our babies within us KNOW HOW TO BE BORN. How do they know? They follow the path of thousands of years, hormones and chemical reactions, instinct, nature, call it what you will -- things we do not even yet understand! Why have we let one of the strongest (if not THE strongest) experiences in life turn into a medical event? When did we decide to not work with our own instincts and sway with our hips and moan with the contractions, lean on our birth partners, GIVE IN to that transition to motherhood, BEAR DOWN as our bodies told us and ONLY us to produce our newborn infant wet with our childbirth efforts? This is the birth you can have, it is the one you can choose, it is the one you can manifest. Use this exhilaration as you would any heart pounding adrenaline rushing experience... do not hand off this experience to a machine beeping, feed on the fears of a medical establishment poised to make thousands of dollars for every non-proven intervention, watch your child that grew inside of you suddenly whisked away to a "sanitary" nursery! Empower yourself and face your fears! If you find yourself afraid, let's explore the question:
What am I afraid of?


Copyright: Kimberly Sebeck

Kimberly Sebeck, CLD, CCCE, Doula, Childbirth Educator, Herbalist, Arbonne Rep.www.myspace.com/knoxvilledoula

Growing Up

There are moments when I see just how much my children have grown and begin to understand how quickly their time as babies is flying by. It was today at Monkey Joe's, a nearby indoor inflatable playground, that I last had one of these moments- what an awkward place to be as the realization brought tears to my eyes. It was there on some inflatable contraption that my three-year old, Ava Grace, made a friend. According to Ava Grace, her name was Jetta, a pretty little Indian girl who was probably 3 or 4 years old. Before Jetta came along, Ava Grace was asking me to hold her hand and go down the slides with her. Now, she no longer needed my assistance. Jetta would help her, because Jetta knew just what to do. The two of them dodged the big kids and tumbled down the slides together for a good portion of the late morning. They shared a snack, laughed together, and they even got in trouble together when Ava Grace followed Jetta's lead as she tried to climb up the slide. No longer the center of Ava Grace's little world, I stood outside the bouncy room as I watched the girls jump as Will, my younger son, tottered along behind them. It was then that she walked up to the mesh wall with her face pressed almost to mine and whispered, "I love you, Mommy." I think she knew I needed a little reassurance as I watched my little baby becoming a big girl right before my eyes.

On the way home, I asked her, "What was your favorite part of today?" She said, "Playing with Jetta." I asked, "Was there any part that you didn't like?" Her reply, "When Jetta told me that we were bad girls for scaring the kids off of the slide." I don't know exactly what she was talking about and can't imagine Ava Grace scaring anyone off of a slide (considering everyone was older than she was), but I felt a slight twinge of agitation towards this Jetta for telling my little girl that she was a bad girl.

I know there will be moments in Ava Grace's life when she hears and witnesses things far worse than innocent ramblings of a 3-year-old child. In those instances, I wish I could wrap my arms around her and shield her from the cruel ways of the world. As I watched her chasing after Jetta, I wondered what types of crowds she'll follow when she's a little older. I hope by then that I've given her the tools to choose good friends, make smart decisions, and know when to ask for help. Until then, I'll take every chance I can get to hold her hand as she drags me to the top of yet another slide, steal a high-five in celebration of our arrival at the bottom, and anxiously await her, "I love you, Mommy's".

Written by Kristin Dittl, a member of YorkCountyMommies.

The Dangers of Private Water Parks

The mother is making beds, collecting laundry and in general making a desperate attempt to make her home appear sanitary. Curlylocks is downstairs finishing her lunch and Stripperella is playing in the room next to the mother.

"Splash, splash, splash"

The mother's eyes grow huge. There is only one place where Stripperella can get water, and that is the toilet in the hall bathroom. The same bathroom where Curlylocks had gone potty and then not flushed due to the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" water conservation program that the mother had implemented.

"Oh GOOD GOD", the mother exclaimed as she dashed towards the bathroom nearly killing herself as she hit the bathmat upon entering the bathroom, one leg going forward the other flinging to the side in an instinctive attempt to regain her balance. A technique which failed miserably as the mother continued her momentum feet first landing with a very ungracious crash on her back side next to Stripperella and the toilet. Her side flung limb crashing off of the cabinets and then nailing the toilet with a sickening thud.

Stripperella is armpit deep into the bowl and splashing urine tainted toilet water over the seat and floor and now her mother. The mother's sudden and loud appearance startled Stripperella and in an instinctive motion of self comfort started to put her urine soaked fingers into her mouth.

"NNOOOOOOOO!” The mother shrieked as she climbed off the floor to grab Stripperella's arm which was mere millimeters from the first stomach lurching suck.

The mother then staggered to her feet, amazed that her one leg is still capable of supporting weight and shoved Stipperella's tainted arm under the faucet and holding her in place with one knee reaches with all her might to the neighboring sink for the soap. 3 minutes of scrubbing later she releases Stripperella and focuses her attention on the toilet. Scrubbing and flushing all the nastiness away.

The mother has decided that water conservation is all well and good, but there is something to be said for hygiene. Whereas she might have saved 3 gallons of water in not flushing she probably used 5 in cleaning up the after math. Some days simple math tells the story.

D.E. Mongomery is a member of CharlotteMommies and the author of “The Adventures of Curlylocks and Stripperella: A Modern Mother’s Tale” which is available on Amazon.com and the author’s E store at: https://www.createspace.com/3390652

Visit her fan page at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/D-E-Montgomery/121452927484?ref=nf

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I knew this day was coming but I could not remember when. I saw it this morning on McMama's blog and I as I sit here on my lunch hour, I can not help but to mention it, talk about and of course blog about it.

This is a day that comes around year after year and there are so many women that need this day of remembrance. I am one of those women. A few years ago, our family suffered a miscarriage. It was very early in the pregnancy but nevertheless, it was our baby. We were completely surprised to even find out I was pregnant. We had been told for YEARS that I would NEVER get pregnant without the help of fertility medications. We had finally accepted that and had moved on and then this. It hit us so hard when we found out we had lost our little one. It was, as I told my Mom that day, "It was hell on earth". That is where I was and I was hurting like nothing I had ever experienced before. It took many months and probably even a year or so to try and understand what was happening and why. I still don't understand.

I read so many blogs of women who have walked this road of an early miscarriage, of a 20+ week loss and even those that have carried their children to delivery and they have been taken to heaven before their first breath or their first 24 hours. Oh my heart hurts for you. My tears burn my face for you. Whether you have lost one early or full term or later, that was your child. I came to understand that even though in this life, I may not have had the chance to hold my little girl (mine was early and I chose to remember our baby as a girl), there is coming a day that I will get to hold her. She will be complete, maybe she will even have my cheeks. The fact is that at that moment when I finally see her, all of this on this earth won't matter. It won't even matter if she is a she or I am blown away that she is a he. He had a plan and that is what I can depend and hang on to. One of my very close friends named Tara and I were actually pregnant at the same time. Her pregnancy was completed with her oldest son named Ethan. I would be lying to tell you that there are the occasional times that I see Ethan and wonder.......Hmmmm what would she be like today.

I work in an Ob/Gyn office in Greensboro, NC. We have women that have suffered the loss of their children. I have watched even the youngest mom that has had a miscarriage and the hurt in their eyes says all they need to say even without uttering a word. There are even women that I have come face to face with that have lost several children. I had the blessing of being on the phone even last Thursday with one that just kept weeping over the child that she had lost. The hurt, the anger, the emptiness and pain were more than she could handle. My heart just ached for her. I have seen her several times. We don't say much with words but the hugs and thank you's are all I need. I am praying for the day when she will get to take a baby home from the hospital with her!!!

He had a plan. He always has and always will. Once again, in the midst of rebellion, He gave us Kaleb. There was even a time early in my pregnancy with him I had some of the same issues and the fear and panic set in again. I can remember days sitting in my OB's office in tears because I was afraid I would have to re-live that pain all over again. The Lord saw me through. He blessed my socks off with Kaleb and his Daddy!!!!!!! Once again, I'll say it again!!! He is in total control!!!!! He DOES know what He is doing!!!!! Not a day goes by that I don't spend time sitting and holding Kaleb and realizing what a blessing he is to everyone he meets.

So, as today passes by and you think of those who have lost a child, no matter if it was early or late, call them today and encourage them. Tell them you thought about them and prayed for them today. They will so appreciate it and it will mean more to them than you ever realize!!!!!!

Laboring With You,

Doula Mama Pam

Visit the author's blog at www.motheringthemotherinnc.blogspot.com

Please Don't Call Daddy Babes

BC (Before Children) J and I created pet names for each other. It's gotten to the point where we cant even call each other by our given names. It just feels too weird. So when we were carefree and childless our pet names for each other was baby. Unique, huh? But it worked and we got along fine for many years, until we had Xavier. As soon as he was born we noticed we had had a dilemma on our hands. You see, whenever one of us called Xavier Baby the other person would automatically assume they were being called. So after a meeting of the minds we switched our pet names to Babes, which has stuck like bubble gum in hair ever since.

Our kids have always called us Mommy and Daddy, or some other variation thereof (although never Mother/Father or Ma... I just can't get into those.) And until recently, the kids were able to differentiate the fact that Mom and Dad have other names for each other that aren't Mom and Dad and just for them but not for the kids. Until this weekend.

On Friday evening, I started talking with J about something unimportant and of course started off the convo with "Hey Babes..." Ashe was in the room with us and I noticed him watching me as I spoke. I swear I could visibly see the gears working in his head while J and I talked, but for what I couldn't figure out." I continued chatting with J and forgot about that scheming little look I had gotten a glance at.

Saturday morning, J and I were upstairs in the office on our respective computers when I heard a call from Ashe downstairs about having just pooped in the potty. He has finally achieved Potty Trained Status (woohoo!!!) and is still SO excited he must verbally catalogue each and every bowel movement to one of his parental units so he can receive the praise he is so deserving of. Ashe called out "HEY MOMMY! I WENT POOP IN THE POTTY!" to which I cheered and said congratulations. After a brief pause he continues:

"HEY BABES!"

.... J and I glance at each other in shock.

"BABES. I WENT POOP IN THE POTTY!"...."BABES! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

A moment of pure silence went by and then after the shock of what we heard filtered into our brains J and I just burst out laughing. But we both knew, as parents do, we had to keep quiet with our guffaws and not answer him or he would take that as consent to continue using our pet moniker for one another. So we sat there and suffered in silence, laughing to the point I had tears in my eyes and our sides hurt as Ashe continued yelling up the stairs with his little 2 year old voice "HEY BABES!...BAAAABES!"

After awhile when it must have become apparent to him we weren't going to answer, Ashe stomped up the stairs and entered the office with a little glare on his face. He marched right up to J, hands on his hips and announced "BABES. I WENT POOP IN THE POTTY!"

I'll give J full credit for not losing control and laughing himself on the floor right there. He didn't even crack a smile, although I did notice a hint of one trying to sneak out from the corner of his lips. Instead he calmly faced Ashe and said in a matter of fact tone "My name is Daddy."

Ashe chewed on this for a few seconds and then looked up at J. "OK. HEY DADDY, I JUST WENT POOP ON THE POTTY!" J of course praised him with high 5s and good jobs. I pulled Ashe to me and hugged him in congratulations. And while his little arms were wrapped around me, his chin resting on my shoulder, I let it go and laughed my butt off as silently as I could. When Ashe gave me an inquiring look I just said I was so proud of him and hugged him again until I could get myself together.

This post was written by Brittany (Rhaven at TriangleMommies.com). Visit her personal blog at: http://suburbanrebelmom.blogspot.com/

A couple things we’re thinking, Part I

I love my wife. She has given me the best eight years of my life. She has been my support and my strength, blessing me with laughter, life and love. She has given me my beautiful daughter and has stood by me through everything.

But man, sometimes …

I know these words might fall on deaf ears considering the audience is, well, The Mommies Network. But ladies, I promise my words are not just my own. I am sure that every man out there — every man that stands by your side day in and day out — is thinking many of these same thoughts. And most only think them because they’re smart enough to stay quiet.

I’m not so smart. Many who know me could attest to that. So I will let you in on a couple little secrets, a couple of things that you might want to think about before you yell at us for the next thing you’re going to yell at us for (Yes, I ended that sentence with a preposition. Are you going to yell at me?).

1. You get to sleep in as much as we do. Count’em up. Guarantee there have been plenty of mornings that we’ve gotten up with the little ones while you’ve dreamt of Patrick Dempsey, Jon Bon Jovi or another over the hill “heartthrob.”
2. And when we do sleep in, it’s not even close to your “sleeping in.” Men doze until 8:30, maybe 9 in the morning. Women hibernate until noon. I would like to copyright the “2-for-1 rule,” where every sleep-in morning for women gets men two of the same. Or one round of golf, no questions asked.
3. I play with our child all the time. You’re just not looking when I do it. Ditto for doing the laundry, washing the dishes, and cleaning the house.
4. I know our child repeats everything. I know those naughty words are supposed to be off limits, but sometimes it’s just really funny to get our child going. I love hearing my child scream “?@!&%? fumble” when the Jets give up a go-ahead touchdown in the fourth quarter. It’s much more fun than hearing it from your father.
5. I know how to change a diaper, thank you very much. But when our child is screaming at the top of her lungs because I’m doing it instead of you, flailing like a fish about to meet a sushi knife, then you should just take one for the team.
6. We do things differently dear. Please understand that the same way you so something might not be the way I was taught to do the same exact thing. You learned that the best way to clean the floors was to sweep first, vacuum second, and then use the Swiffer. I learned to get a dog.
7. I understand our child will develop our bad habits if we don’t change. You’re saying I can’t smoke, drink, use foul language or stay up late, and I have to eat healthier, brush my teeth three times a day and be more considerate to others? Are you sure this is my child?
8. I will absolutely give you the remote. The batteries, however, are mine.

James Moffat is a former journalist and the author of Growing Up Kaitlyn. He and his wife, Michelle, have been married for nearly four wonderful years (plus another two) and are the parents of 21-month-old Kaitlyn Riley. You can reach him at jmoffat_gc@yahoo.com, or tweet him @jamesmoffat.

Stripperella: Weather Girl

Despite forecasts for thunderstorms that would last the better part of a day, rainfall averages were rather sparse. This disturbed Stripperella. What is the fun of a cold dreary day if there is no rain to make puddles in which to stomp? Something needed to be done.

So the next day, while the mother was working very hard to clean the house, Stripperella made a plan. She would go ask her mother for a drink in her sippy cup. She would then suck milk out of said sippy, but she would not swallow. Instead she would then spit the milk out onto the mat under her dad's office chair. She would make her own puddle!

Suck, spit
suck, spit
suck, spit
suck, spit.

On and on she went, over come with joy at the ever-growing puddle of milk on the mat. When her sippy cup was empty, she let out squeals of delight as she stomped and splashed in her very own puddle. She was somewhat disappointed that her mother had not given her chocolate milk, that would have made the splashes more authentic, but the cool liquid squishing between her toes made that seem like a trivial detail.

Suddenly her joyful play was interrupted by a gasp of horror from the door way.

The mother had returned to ruin her fun. Apparently the mother emptied the dishwasher in record time. With a stern voice the mother placed Stripperella in time out and placed the now empty sippy into time out in the now empty dishwasher. Then she steam cleaned up the milk puddle.

As she sits crying in time out, Stripperella vows that next time she will wait until the mother is cleaning the bathroom and has given chocolate milk to drink. Next time her puddle play will be perfection.

D.E. Mongomery is a member of CharlotteMommies and the author of “The Adventures of Curlylocks and Stripperella: A Modern Mother’s Tale” which is available on Amazon.com and the author’s E store at: https://www.createspace.com/3390652

Visit her fan page at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/D-E-Montgomery/121452927484

Can I Press Pause?

I was looking through some old pictures today and thinking about the past, and how far my life has come, and how so much has changed. Some days I miss being young (a child) and having no worries in the world about money, jobs, etc. It was such a blissful time....and we don't seem to realize that until we are much older. The benefit of this is that I can make sure my daughter experiences the same happiness that I had throughout my childhood. I think back to all of the decisions I made both good and bad, and all of the choices I made that have gotten me where I am today. I always liked the song by Rascal Flatts, "God Bless the Broken Road" because I think it can apply not only to your spouse or partner, but your children also. I think about how even five years ago, I never would have imagined my life as it is now. I don't feel comfortable explaining every detail of my past, ,mainly because my close friends already know all the details. I was not in a good place in life mainly inside my head. I could not seem to find happiness and when I did, it would fall out from underneath me as if someone pulled it out. I felt hopeless a lot, confused and I ruined past loves due to all of my confusions.

My husband always tells me not to play the "what if" game, but who are we kidding, everyone does it in the privacy of their head. It could be over someone you use to love, or a career choice, or anything of your choice. I have to admit I love thinking back to my memories first loves, fun times, and careless mistakes that were fun though at the moment. Sometimes I think my memories keep me sane and happy on those really bad days. I just heard that song on the radio by Taylor Swift about when your fifteen and you believe him when he says he loves you....I smiled, because I loved those feelings and thinking about them. I have had a long day which wasn't the best and hearing that sent me back and it made me smile. I have similar experiences with my daughter, because nothing can ever bring me down the way I would get in the past, because I look at her and she smiles, and my heart melts.

I was talking with a girlfriend the other night, and we were discussing how stressful it is being a mother sometimes because you feel you have to take on so many roles all at once. You are a mother to your child, a wife to your husband and for many, a working woman. When do you get to be you? and do you even know who you are anymore? I sometimes feel I forget about the things that I like and dislike because I am more concerned if the bottles are clean or if the baby is happy, and what to make for dinner, and will I have the energy to listen to my husband talk to me about his work day. Also you have to include house cleaning, laundry, the loss of beauty due to spit on on everything, and lack of sleep. Did I mention your extended family and their problems? It is a mountain of love, stress, and can I press pause for a moment? I honestly believe that no husband or man will ever truly get it. I am sorry to all the men for saying that, but it is true. I have yet to go out for an entire day and leave my baby home with my husband. It is mainly because she knows me and our routine together, and daddy does not. I just think it is important for our husbands to understand our brains right now. I only have two hands, and a limited amount of energy which is always on reserve solely for the baby. I don't enjoy having my butt grabbed while I am burping the baby.....is that not common sense?

I am not downing the husband's, but I have a feeling moms will stand united in the fact that they may never get it. The one thing that has helped a lot is reconnecting with old friends who are now moms. We can all share stories, stresses and experiences. When a girlfriend tells me she is experiencing the same things I am, I feel so relieved. My girlfriend told me she went to the movies alone for the first time, and didn't mind it at all. I thought to myself, I would love that! lol. I have a new favorite quote to end this blog with, " If you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on" -Franklin Roosevelt.


This post was written by Molly Bortree. Visit her blog at
http://mollysamommy.blogspot.com/

Mommy Uniform: Part 1

I’ve decided to throw out my Mommy Uniform! You know the one that someone was handing out at the hospital on the post-partum floor? Except, I don’t remember actually receiving a bag with a mommy uniform, it just kind of appeared in my closet.

Maybe they handed it to my husband while I was checking out. Yes, that must be it. And since nothing else in the closet fit when I got home, I just accepted it for what it was. A rather depressing glimpse into the beginning of my new image.

Before my children, I prided myself on wearing fabulous clothes, shoes, accessories. Other women would ask where I shopped and if I would teach them to accessorize. But some how in the midst of having 3 kids in 4 years (yes, you heard me right) I transformed into a sweatsuit wearing, ponytail sporting, non-accessorized person. I’m not even going to say “women” because there is nothing womanly about how I was feeling. How the heck did I get here, and how am I am going to get out?

So I decided to lay down a few rules for myself. Should be easy, right? I did mention already that I have 3 kids under the age of 7? On second thought, maybe I will just buy a velour sweatsuit from Costco in every color they make.

No, no, no! I’m going to do this. Back to the rules. We will be assigning one rule in each segment of my blog posts. I want to give you a little time to adjust to each rule. Remember I’m on your side. I am one of you. My muffin top doesn’t look any better in low-rise jeans then any other mom. But I promise you, at the end of this series we will reclaim the right to feel and look fabulous together. It will be a transformation that is long overdue and greatly deserved.

Rules for Designing Our New Mommy Uniform

1. Ponytails are not allowed unless someone in the household is vomiting, the water has been shut off because I forgot to pay the bill (I’m not super woman after all!) or my 3 year old has decided to cut my hair while I am sleeping.

Take a minute and do something with your hair. I promise you will feel so much better! I recently got a sassy new haircut and donated my hair to locks of love. I will tell you that I feel cute from 6:00 a.m. until 11:00 p.m. This is a first for me. If you are too afraid to cut your hair then buy or make a few trendy hair accessories. My current favorite hair accessories are flowers worn off to the side and headbands with vintage buttons, brooches and feathers.

The best way to wear hair accessories is to keep everything else you are wearing simple and chic. Let your accessory be your focal point.

If the accessories are scaring you, then just start with wearing your hair in any style besides a ponytail. Just one day! You can do it.

Next, look for “Forget the Trends, Find Something that Fits!”




This post was written and submitted by Molly Orr of MollyODesigns.com

And Then Some

Johnson’s and Johnson’s says that “having a baby changes everything.” They should have added, “and then some.” I knew that having a baby would change my life. What I didn’t realize was that the landscape of who I am would be permanently and fundamentally altered. Looking at my life now, there are remnants of my previous self. After all, we are the collective result of our past experiences. But those remnants are much like ruins of an old ancient city buried under the sands of time. And it’s better to just build a newer, stronger foundation and leave the broken stuff buried.

I have learned – and had to unlearn – so much about my life and life in general since I’ve traded in my tiny purse for a gigantic diaper about ten times the size of my last clutch. Motherhood is a constant teacher and here is a small list of the things I’ve learned so far:

1. Trix cereal will instantly and permanently stain carpet. Really, it does. I think if I ever want my hair purple or red or orange, I will just grind up some Trix cereal and apply it like normal hair dye.

2. I need to stop trying to make my parents proud of me. They are proud of me because I go to bed every night and wake up every morning. I need to concentrate on making my kids proud of me.

3. $80 is too much to pay for a pair of jeans, regardless of how fantastic they make my butt look.

4. I’ve learned how much patience I have and how much patience I lack.

5. Food coloring is essential in a Mom’s kitchen. You never know when you may have to whip up some turtle juice or green eggs and ham.

6. I’m very fortunate and blessed to have a partner in life who loves his family and is working hard to give us all the things he wants us to have. I think a close-knit family is a rare thing anymore and I treasure mine. My husband is my best friend and he is our children’s best friend.

7. Caffeine is also my friend.

8. I’ve learned how important honesty, integrity and keeping my word truly are. At one time in my previous life, I never took much stock in those things. I now realize that having a good character and being a person of integrity are a couple of the most important things in life. I really am only as good as my word.

9. I now know that, previous to having children, whatever I thought was the worst smell I could have possibly encountered up to that point is nothing compared to some of the toxic waste that comes out of my bundles of joy. It’s not even close.

10. I’ve learned that sometimes people need a second chance. Maybe even a third. I know I did. But I know there is also a time to just let go.

11. Google is a wonderful thing. I’m so happy I have somewhere I can go to get quick – and correct – answers to “But WHY???????????”

12. I’ve learned that sometimes the best way I can help my kids succeed is just to stand by and watch them fail. I want to do everything I can to help them, but I know that sometimes that’s letting them do things themselves. This is one of the most difficult things about motherhood for me and will only get harder.

13. The best kinds of toys are the ones that don’t need batteries. I love it when my little guy hands me a block and says, “It’s a flashlight” or “It’s a lasso” or “It’s a bear! RUN!!” Toys without batteries are usually toys with “imagination included.” In addition, there are certain toys with batteries that should come with a timer of some sort that prevents them from working on a Saturday morning when Mom and Dad stayed up too late on Friday.

14. I’ve learned how important the second amendment is. I would go to any lengths to protect my family and I deserve that right. The government can’t protect my family first hand so they should never be allowed to take that right away from me.

15. I never knew that my mother was a ventriloquist but since I’ve had children, I’ve discovered that she’s a very good one. There are things that my mother used to say that I promised myself I would never repeat and somehow those words are finding their way out of my mouth in the exact voice as my mother. And the older my kids get, the better my mother gets at her ventriloquist act.

16. I’ve learned how precious life is and that I took too many unnecessary risks with mine. I must have had my own personal fleet of guardian angels and I know I probably wore them out.

17. Sometimes only Dad will do. And I shouldn’t take that personally.

18. While I wouldn’t trade my life for anything, I realize how haphazardly I squandered my youth – as if it would never end. But it’s never too late to do your best.

19. I may have to repeat the names of certain things several times before they learn them, but it only takes one utterance of a swear word to be ingrained in my babies’ heads and quickly repeated over and over again – and in the right context.

20. Good health is one of the most important gifts I can give my family. I want to be able to play, run, jump, skip, summersault, everything with my family. But more than anything, I want to be with them and be there for them as long as I can.

As I said, Motherhood is a constant teacher. I’m sure that my report card will come in many forms. There will mostly like be marks like “needs improvement” and “satisfactory” and “unsatisfactory”, but hopefully there will be quite a few A’s too.

This post was written and submitted by Dana Diehlman.