Monday, December 24, 2012
Monday, December 17, 2012
One Video Blog, One Giveaway Winner, & a Partridge in a Pear Tree
(Don't you love how I don't give a rat's hiney about SEO in my titles?)
I didn't JUST want to announce the winner of our Oh Crap, Potty Training e-book. Cause unless you're the winner, that just isn't all that exciting.
Our winner? Our winner is......(wait for it)......TENA! Tena, girl, send me your email so you can get your awesome e-book prize! Yay!
So to add a little boost to this otherwise boring post, I'm giving you my first ever video blog. Sort of. I'm not really into sitting awkwardly in front of a camera talking about stuff. That's just not my bag. I'm already awkward enough.
Instead? You get a video taken while I tossed back a few glasses of wine with my husband on a rare date night.
You're welcome and Merry Christmas mo-fos. (And I'm sorry, Mom)
I didn't JUST want to announce the winner of our Oh Crap, Potty Training e-book. Cause unless you're the winner, that just isn't all that exciting.
Our winner? Our winner is......(wait for it)......TENA! Tena, girl, send me your email so you can get your awesome e-book prize! Yay!
So to add a little boost to this otherwise boring post, I'm giving you my first ever video blog. Sort of. I'm not really into sitting awkwardly in front of a camera talking about stuff. That's just not my bag. I'm already awkward enough.
Instead? You get a video taken while I tossed back a few glasses of wine with my husband on a rare date night.
You're welcome and Merry Christmas mo-fos. (And I'm sorry, Mom)
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Coping is Personal
Friday's tragedy was unthinkable. It made me want to homeschool my kids until they're 25.
I'm a little better than most at compartmentalizing but I had to stop reading the news. I, along with so many parents, have hugged my kids tightly over the last couple days and raised up a prayer for the families unable to do so.
But facebook and twitter? Y'all are making me clench my buttocks with rage.
Friday's devastation impacted all of us. And we all have to cope.
But grieving is personal. Coping is personal. So hands off my process.
Do you need to focus on solutions? Do you need someone to blame? Do you need to drink heavily for a day or two? Okay. Do it. You don't need my permission.
But please stop telling me what I should focus on. Please stop telling me what I shouldn't focus on.
GUNS! - I'm against them. Stop telling me not to focus on them because it's "political." I will cut you. Cause, I'm not against knives (and empty threats), you know. Cause cutting people is bad. It hurts.
MENTAL HEALTH!- Yes. I'm a fan. To the point I've dedicated a good portion of my life dabbling in this line of work. I can focus on this if I want to.
PRAYER- I do it (see above).
MEDIA- I think we have way too much violence in our media and our kids are desensitized to it and its real-life consequences.
So, that's what I think. If I follow you on twitter or facebook and you keep on posting "No! It's not (guns! mental health! God! media!) you twit! This happened because of (guns! mental health! God! media!), I might just unfollow you.
Let people look for solutions. My guess is that tragedies don't have a single cause. Looking for sense in something so senseless is a way of coping. It's okay to want solutions. And it's okay to have conversations. Conversations are important.
And it's not "too soon" to have these conversations. Really, it's already too late.
Please let me cope in my own way. I promise I'm a grown up and I don't need you to tell me what to focus on. Meanwhile, I'm going to go back to hugging my kids (whether they like it or not).
Have you written a post about Friday? Link to it in your comment so we can continue the conversation.
I'm a little better than most at compartmentalizing but I had to stop reading the news. I, along with so many parents, have hugged my kids tightly over the last couple days and raised up a prayer for the families unable to do so.
But facebook and twitter? Y'all are making me clench my buttocks with rage.
Friday's devastation impacted all of us. And we all have to cope.
But grieving is personal. Coping is personal. So hands off my process.
Do you need to focus on solutions? Do you need someone to blame? Do you need to drink heavily for a day or two? Okay. Do it. You don't need my permission.
But please stop telling me what I should focus on. Please stop telling me what I shouldn't focus on.
GUNS! - I'm against them. Stop telling me not to focus on them because it's "political." I will cut you. Cause, I'm not against knives (and empty threats), you know. Cause cutting people is bad. It hurts.
MENTAL HEALTH!- Yes. I'm a fan. To the point I've dedicated a good portion of my life dabbling in this line of work. I can focus on this if I want to.
PRAYER- I do it (see above).
MEDIA- I think we have way too much violence in our media and our kids are desensitized to it and its real-life consequences.
So, that's what I think. If I follow you on twitter or facebook and you keep on posting "No! It's not (guns! mental health! God! media!) you twit! This happened because of (guns! mental health! God! media!), I might just unfollow you.
Let people look for solutions. My guess is that tragedies don't have a single cause. Looking for sense in something so senseless is a way of coping. It's okay to want solutions. And it's okay to have conversations. Conversations are important.
And it's not "too soon" to have these conversations. Really, it's already too late.
Please let me cope in my own way. I promise I'm a grown up and I don't need you to tell me what to focus on. Meanwhile, I'm going to go back to hugging my kids (whether they like it or not).
Have you written a post about Friday? Link to it in your comment so we can continue the conversation.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Ho, Ho, Holy Shit
I don't get many moments of smug mommyhood.
Usually I'm the harried gal with the under-eye circles, poorly fitting clothes, and split ends doing my "Look At Me Not Yelling" voice counting to 3 because "Finn, Stop rolling on the floor and get over here" while Cassidy runs down the hall and my purse is falling off my shoulder and my hands are full of 8 month-old baby.
And that may be the longest run-on in the history of the world but that's pretty much my life. No time for punctuation, my friends. My children are busy running in opposite directions and ignoring me. Gotta go.
(Maybe it's my poor fashion sense. They already don't want to be associated with me.)
So, here's my moment of smuggy mommyness in all its glorious glory:
The twins' daycare teachers were all, "Your kids are doing awesome with this whole potty thing! What's the name of that book again?"
And I see the other daycare moms fretting over potty training and "Don't mind the chocolate on her face. She sat on the potty this morning and got candy for breakfast" as we're doing drop-off.
I get to be smug for all of 30 seconds. It's amazing. But then Bridget usually spits up on me.
Because, yes- Poopacolypse aside - potty training has been pretty easy peasy.
No stickers, no m&m crap- mah kids do it in the pottay. (That is, when they're not doing it in public.)
My kids? They're not doing it in their pants! Or in diapers! Or on the floor! Or in their beds!
If I could, I would totally buy Jamie Glowacki, author of Oh Crap. Potty Training a cocktail. Or 2. But since we're strangers, instead I'm going to do you a solid and hook you up with the opportunity to win a copy of her awesome e-book.
Here's how you can win:
1. "Like" me on facebook
2. Leave a comment with a funny poop or pee story
3. Leave a comment with a poem about poop or pee
Each one of the above gets you 1 entry. I'll do the drawing next Friday.
Yay! Free stuff!
Usually I'm the harried gal with the under-eye circles, poorly fitting clothes, and split ends doing my "Look At Me Not Yelling" voice counting to 3 because "Finn, Stop rolling on the floor and get over here" while Cassidy runs down the hall and my purse is falling off my shoulder and my hands are full of 8 month-old baby.
And that may be the longest run-on in the history of the world but that's pretty much my life. No time for punctuation, my friends. My children are busy running in opposite directions and ignoring me. Gotta go.
(Maybe it's my poor fashion sense. They already don't want to be associated with me.)
So, here's my moment of smuggy mommyness in all its glorious glory:
The twins' daycare teachers were all, "Your kids are doing awesome with this whole potty thing! What's the name of that book again?"
And I see the other daycare moms fretting over potty training and "Don't mind the chocolate on her face. She sat on the potty this morning and got candy for breakfast" as we're doing drop-off.
I get to be smug for all of 30 seconds. It's amazing. But then Bridget usually spits up on me.
Because, yes- Poopacolypse aside - potty training has been pretty easy peasy.
No stickers, no m&m crap- mah kids do it in the pottay. (That is, when they're not doing it in public.)
 |
| This should be required parent reading. Trust. |
If I could, I would totally buy Jamie Glowacki, author of Oh Crap. Potty Training a cocktail. Or 2. But since we're strangers, instead I'm going to do you a solid and hook you up with the opportunity to win a copy of her awesome e-book.
Here's how you can win:
1. "Like" me on facebook
2. Leave a comment with a funny poop or pee story
3. Leave a comment with a poem about poop or pee
Each one of the above gets you 1 entry. I'll do the drawing next Friday.
Yay! Free stuff!
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