June 22, 2007
In case you miss me on the days on I don’t post here. I also blog at these places:
Answering the question, how do you do it?
My other personal blog that I began last year to answer all the questions people ask me, dispense my sought after advice (HA!), and just talk about things that don’t fit on this blog.
This is a group blog I write with four other people (three moms, one dad) for Parenting.com
A blog I write for the company Handipoints. The main focus of the blog is raising responsible kids. I write about chores, allowance, all sorts of responsible kid raising things. It ties in with the Handipoint chore charts and website.
What is Handipoints?
Handipoints is a free service that allows you, the parent, to create and manage online chore charts for your children.
You can rate the children’s performance and how well the task was completed by using the Handipoint system. The points have a dollar value that you assign.
The children can then redeem their points for approved rewards, either online or in a walk-in store. This helps to teach your children the value of hard work, having long term goals, and saving for things that they want
The newest babble blog, drool.icio.us where I write about new, innovative, hip, sometimes stupid, baby products.
I love writing over there. It has all the fun of searching and shopping, but without spending any money. It justifies all the hours I spend just browsing around the internet. Research! Honest!
And last but definitely NOT least, BlogHer, an organization I love. I am an editor blogging about DIY home repair. A passion I don’t really talk much about here for fear everyone’s eyes would glaze over. Because they probably would. I can debate a minute purchase for months. Decide on one thing. And then get to the store and order something completely different. My husband loves this about me.
Posted by Chris @ 7:36 pm
Posted by Chris @ 7:36 pm
Posted by Chris @ 7:35 pm
About The Insurgents
There are 7 of them. They are constantly hungry.
Posted by Chris @ 7:10 pm
June 21, 2007
I have been wondering lately if you are in a bad mood for 27.5 days out of the month can you still call it PMS. Or are do you just have to face the fact that it is your personality and you are just a bitch?
I was talking to my friend Susan about it and told her that this past month I think I had my twelve good hours when I was sleeping.
PPMS: When your PMS is a permanent state of being.
My husband called me from work a little while ago and casually asked, “So, how is your day?”
During the long pause that followed I bet he wished he hadn’t called.
“I want to snap their little heads off and eat them.”
Yes it has been one of those sort of days.
But after I said that it brought to mind that little rhyme from when I was a kid. We would hold dandelions in our hand and say, “Mama had a baby and it’s head popped off.” And then flick the head of the dandelion off the stem with our thumb. Oh how funny it was.
Did anyone else do that? Or did I just have some kind of warped twisted childhood.
Anyway now it is stuck in my head.
Things that have annoyed me today in no particular order:
1) Why would someone decide to rip the side open on the jumbo 500 pack of bandaids, allowing them to now spill out all over the cabinet, counter and floor instead of just opening the top? And why would this person just leave all the bandaids laying around like some cleaning fairy was going to fix it all? AND when confronted why would this person lie about it?
NEWSFLASH!!! YOU ARE COVERED IN BANDAIDS I KNOW YOU DID IT.
2) Why would someone break the soap into a million little pieces and then use one of those pieces to write all over the window?
3) Why would a person think it was a good idea to to open the cabinet and throw the chess pieces inside rather than put them in the storage area at the back of the chess board?
4) While talking on the phone my husband remarked that I haven’t made pasta salad in a really long time, and hey we should make it and hamburgers and grilled chicken breast this weekend. And there are just so many things I can’t eat anymore that he mentioned that I want to punch him.
5) I’d like to be all happy and pollyanna-ish and say how great this new diet is going. But I can’t. It sucks. All my favorite things to eat… gone. Yes, I know there are good gluten, egg, dairy, seafood free foods out there. Yes, I know I can cook from scratch. But I hate it. You would think that I should just be dropping weight because of all the things I can’t eat, like bread, and french toast, and ice cream, and cereal… but instead I have been eating about 5000 calories a day in candy.
6) Larabars. I am so sick of you and your vegan, gluten free, less than 5 ingredient ways. Damn you for being so convenient to toss in my pocketbook.
I know there were more things, but I have forgotten them now.
Mama had a baby and it’s head popped off.
Posted by Chris @ 11:33 pm
It’s a tough lesson
June 20, 2007
My daughter learned today that when you are wearing a skirt and decide to go down the hot slide you really need to tuck it under your butt. Or better yet how about you wear a pair of all those adorable shorts your mother bought for you this summer.
Failure to tuck will result in all the skin on your butt cheeks that peek out of the bottom of your too-small-but-cannot-possibly-be-thrown-away Cinderella underwear will burn and have the skin rubbed right off.
And then you will scream and cry and carry on for so long that your mother thought she might have to comfort you by holding that nice silk throw pillow over your face for a few minutes.
Posted by Chris @ 5:47 pm
here, there, oh and there, and there too
June 19, 2007
I have my post up over at Parenting today inspired by Father’s Day.
People always say they feel sorry for any boy my daughter ever brings home. That he will never measure up in the eyes of her brothers and father. And they say it like it is a bad thing.
Also, I am writing over at BlogHer now. NOT about children or parenting, thank god, because how many stories about my family can I tell. Instead I am writing about Do It Yourself home renovation, a topic I love to talk endlessly about. My first post House Whisperers is up now.
I am speaking at Blogher this summer on this panel with these fabulous women.
The State of the Momosphere
It’s no secret that MommyBlogging has changed a lot in the past two years. Sort of like actors who toil away for years before becoming overnight sensations, MommyBloggers are now seen as power influencers by marketers and the media. Whether managing what amounts to small publishing juggernauts, or cranking out posts mostly for family and friends in their not-so-copious spare time, MommyBloggers are getting a lot of attention…individually and as a “segment.” Has the attention and opportunity affected the way you blog? Should it? What are some of the non-negotiable boundaries you have when you consider commercial relationships? Has all the attention and increasing opportunity also affected who you read? This panel will take a look at how MommyBloggers continue to express themselves, support one another and build their platforms under a microscope. It may also give those outside the Momosphere a better understanding of what MommyBloggers want, and how they want to be engaged, if at all. Come join the discussion and answer the questions above for yourself! Jory Des Jardins leads what is sure to be a lively discussion amongst the diverse community of MommyBloggers, including Catherine Connors, Lena Lotsey, Chris Jordan and Nordette Adams.
I suppose one of the things that interests me about the panel is the question of does increased visibility effect the way that you blog. A few people have emailed me asking me where my archives went. I took them down. Last week I got an email from someone who read through my entire archives and then pieced together all the information to find my exact address. I thought I was somewhat discrete. Even though she herself was not a freaky scary person at all, it caused me to rethink some things. So I will be going back and selectively editing out old posts.
And as much as I love all of you, yes even you, please don’t ever show up at my house unbidden, like has happened to several other bloggers. Because it would not endear you to me. I would have to shoot you. Okay, not really, maybe just throw Legos at you until you run away. Those can leave quite a welt you know.
Thanks everyone for a lively discussion, but comments are now closed.
Posted by Chris @ 8:20 am
30 months old
June 18, 2007
This weekend you got a haircut. An honest to goodness, real boy haircut. No more long hair with the baby waves that I liked to run my fingers through. And you liked to swat my hand away and say, “Iss my hair. TOP DAT!”
You have had hair cuts before. But you always just looked like a baby with short hair.
At 30 months old you have already begun to tell me about your plans for when you are a grown up. According to you, you will have a mowocycle. And not only that, it will have a holder for your sippy cup. When I point out that as a grown up perhaps you won’t have a Thomas sippy cup, you become very indignant. “Yessssss. I grow up I HAB MY SIPPY CUP on my MOWO-CYCLE!” If you knew how to roll your eyes you would.
You love to go to the dump with your father on the weekends. I am not sure why. All it consists of is a five minute car ride surrounded by smell garbage. But you love it. “My Go-a dump? My go-a dump, Daddy?”
Whenever Daddy is home you insist that I move your car seat into his car. Even if he is not going anywhere. You just like to know it is available should Daddy try to make a quick get-a-way without you. “Take my carseat out you big bus car, Mama. Put in Daddy tiny car.” Everytime Rob dares to venture near the door you take off running. “My come wif you! My comin’ wif you!”
You love to tell everyone that you have a penis. As we stroll through our local Wal-Mart you will suddenly shout out the the person next to us, “You HAB A PENIS? I HAB A PENISSSS.” You also like to tell people, “Mama not hab a penis. Her penis falled off.”
I have jotted down things that I don’t want to forget. Things about this stage you are in that I know I will not remember unless they are written down.
1) The way you drag the ’s’ sound at the end of words out longer than it needs to be. So your pants, becomes pantsssssssssss.
2) The way you have names for all your shoes:
slip-slops, cocoa shoes (laceless slip ons-no idea why), baby shoes (brown fisherman sandals-again, no idea), sandals, dum-dum shoes (monster shoes)
3)The way you look out the window and yell at all the “chicken-monks” instead of calling them chipmonks. I am not sure why it amuses me so, but it does.
4) The way that when I am away from you for even a short time, like using the bathroom, when you see me you will come running, your arms wide open and yell, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! I found you.” And then you hug my legs and routinely head butt my pelvic bone.
5) The things that your brothers have taught you to say.
So now out of the blue when someone says something to you and you don’t hear them, you will respond, “What you talking about, punk?”
Transformation to little boy is complete. And I don’t remember okaying it.
Posted by Chris @ 10:11 am
Ten Years Ago
June 16, 2007
I had a two year old and a one year old. And I gave birth to my third son.
Also, gave birth to whatever little of my sanity was left I think. But the good news is that ten years later, I can say that some of my sanity has returned. Or maybe I just don’t care anymore.
Three in diapers. Three. Three babies. Three who were younger than my youngest child is now.
I recall very little of those days. It’s all a blur of diaper changing, feeding, and trying desperately to coordinate nap times.
Posted by Chris @ 4:07 pm
the problem with email
June 13, 2007
Sometimes it is hard to tell if they are well intentioned and poorly written, or asking exactly what they seem to be.
Today this email graced my inbox. I reprint it here in it’s entirety.
Did you always want a large family, or did they just start coming out faster than you knew what you were getting yourself into?
I could have emailed back privately, but I thought that other people might want to know the same thing. So here is my response.
Dear Just wondering,
Yes that is exactly what happen. Babies started shooting out of my crotch like ice cubes from a jammed ice cube dispenser, while I screamed, “Make it stop! Make it stop! My uterus runneth over!”
Posted by Chris @ 9:50 pm