What's with All the Hate?

It's been an interesting few weeks in the blogosphere and while I enjoy a good controversy just as much as the next gal (did I just refer to myself as a gal???) I gotta ask...what's with all the hate? Mommy bloggers vs. parent bloggers/other bloggers, working moms vs. at-home moms, breastfeeding moms vs. bottlefeeding moms, moms-with-housekeepers vs. moms-who-don't have-help and of course, women vs. the universe (or the university, if you're my daughter) in the "false advertising" controversy. I'm not even going to dignify these arguments and/or insults to womanhood and motherhood with a link unless it's to something terribly positive and uniting.

Since this is my blog, however, I would like to say that I have always called myself a "mommy blogger" in a manner meant to flip off people that feel the need to put down those they believe to be in the category. In all honesty, while I am a mom and I have a blog, I don't think I fit the stereotypical definition of a "mommy blogger" but I SO dislike that people want to both separate and denigrate moms in one fell swoop that I WILL call myself a "mommy blogger" as an act of defiance. A big FUCK YOU, if you will, to anyone who wants to put a sister down for writing about her children or blogging in a way that they think is uncool or a waste of bandwidth. Why does anyone care how another person chooses to use their blog anyway? It's not like actual real estate where the resources are finite. There's enough for everyone. Live and let live.

Now if anyone has any more POSITIVE posts on any of the aforementioned topics, please let me know about them (because I don't always remember all the good stuff I've come across) so I can "waste" some internet bandwidth on the sharing the love!

And of course, dissenting opinions are okay because I respect your right to disagree. But please BE KIND.

I have to give a shout out to Chag from Cynical Dad because he likes Blow Out (and his blog is cool, too).

Also be sure to check out my new renter, Anne Marie, of A Mama's Rant. She's cool. She rocks. She writes about good stuff. Check it!

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful (aka The Camera Doesn't Lie)

That title? It's sarcasm, folks. Pure sarcasm. Everyone tells you that it's a lot harder to bounce back after the second baby but I never paid any attention. Dry skin, zits, baby fat, cellulite, eye bags, jowls, saggy boobs...I got the whole enchilada (that stupid new camera refuses to lie). But somehow, I don't think this is what they meant when they coined the phrase "having it all"

Hubz, on the other hand, is exactly the same except for a few more gray hairs. It's SO unfair! There is an upside, though. Two really cute ones, actually. See for yourself. New photos have finally been added to my Flickr box...

ADDENDUM: You guys are way too nice. Perhaps it's because you can't see the GIANT hi-resolution fill-the-whole-monitor version of these photos but I look terrible. You can SEE my eye wrinkles in a few of them and I'm fatter than I've ever been. I'm only sharing them because I feel like I need to make peace with reality. Seriously, these are NOT good photos. Only Hubz and the kids look good. I should post some of the REALLY bad ones...the DOUBLE CHIN shots. I'm working up to it. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Skank Dolls Redux

I've been so busy this week doing blog graphics and a total blog re-design for Fidget that I haven't had time to write all that much. Of course, I'm still doing the blog-composing thing in the shower and before I fall asleep (Shut up. I know you do it, too) and I have all sorts of thoughts that don't involve sexual predators or baby clothes blues but just no time to put them together thus far.

That said, I've decided to dig through the archives to some of my grossly underappreciated posts from those early days when I got none to very few comments. Remember those days? Or was that just me that wrote to imaginary readers, fancying myself a scribe for the anonymous masses?

Anyway, I dug up a short but sweet post about something that seems to chafe a lot of mommy ass. (That's right. I called you a MOMMY) Actually, I've also read a few blog posts from Dads on this topic so I guess it chafes some daddy ass, too.

------------------------------
Someone gave my daughter a "My Scene" doll for her birthday. They're kind of like the Barbie version of Bratz dolls, which I detest. I'm just not interested in those weird, giant-eyed, hoochie mama dolls as toys for my five yr old daughter. Maybe when she's thirty. Or when George Bush learns to pronounce "nuclear."

Seriously...I don't know if I'm just twisted or what but I'm telling you, this doll looks like a hooker or possibly a drag queen. So naturally, my daughter finds her far more interesting than any of her eight million Barbies. Her platform stripper shoes are also of keen interest. I don't know... I'm fairly open-minded but I think "Madison" just might have to have a garbage disposal accident or something.

And forget all that unsexy diaper business... Baby Bratz Dolls now come with their Very Own Thong. Phew! I was wondering where I was going to get a tiny doll-sized thong. Thank God someone is considering parents for a change.
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Now wasn't that worth recycling? It just doesn't make sense to let perfectly good posts go to waste. There are kids in China that have never even HAD a good post about hoochie dolls and their thong-wearing siblings. Please. Think of the children.

And now, according to CitySlickerMom , it's "Hump Day Link Share/Link Where?" and never one to pass on the fun, I've decided to play along so in addition to all the fine blogs in my bookmarks, Blogroll and Bloglines, here are a few I've been digging.

Check 'em:
Supafine, Life O' Pie and Hipster Mom.

Bye Bye Baby Stuff (Hello Melancholy)

(Sorry for that interruption. I now bring you the post that was SUPPOSED to be up before a freak started coveting my child)

I'm feeling a little sad today. In an effort to rid my very small house of all space-sucking baby gear, I've been gathering everything up and slowly getting it out of here.

Last week it was the Boppy pillow, the bottle sterilizer and the baby bathtub. The week before that the swing, the Babynest, the co-sleeper and the tummytime baby Boppy pillow were evicted. Today I took the floor gym, and six bags of baby clothes to the consignment store. (Yes, even after the tap shoe debacle, they still like me and my stuff. Nice people, they are)

Today's run encompasses the last of my daughter and son's tiniest infant clothes. It represents a turning point in all of our lives but mostly, it represents my babies growing up. I can hardly think of this without tears welling up in my eyes and a lump forming in my throat.

We wish so much for the hardest parts to be over but when they are, our babies have become toddlers and then preschoolers and then kindergarteners. I know growing up is what they're meant to do but it still breaks my heart. I just keep telling myself that we will love having all the extra space. But I'm not really buying it...

***Be sure to vist Fidget, my renter this week. Her site is great and her most recent post, a tribute to a friend, was both bittersweet and deeply touching.

Oh. My. God.

I feel physically ill. I don't know what to do.

We just got home a little while ago. My neighbor two doors down came over and asked me if I had seen the white work van (no name or identifiers) that had passed by when we were checking the mail after arriving home. Yes, I did see it but paid little attention to it. She informed me that she SAW the guy driving lower his sunglasses as he slowed down and looked right at my daughter, who was standing at the front door as my son and I stood at the mailbox. He was CHECKING OUT MY 5 YEAR OLD. I want to vomit. I hope I'm not coming off like a drama queen. I'm genuinely upset and freaked out.

I thanked my neighbor profusely (she's about 22, married without kids and VERY sharp), I keep thinking what if she hadn't noticed? Not that my daughter ever goes anywhere unsupervised but if you watched the news at all, you may recall the Jessica Lunsford case where the girl was taken right from her bedroom, raped and then buried alive. I also recall that the man who abducted Shasta Groene and her brother (who was murdered) "found" them while driving past their house and seeing them outside. He later went back and abducted them after killing everyone else in the house. I'm not trying to scare anyone but these things are real. They happen, thus my strong reaction to such disturbing information.

I put a hold on the previous post because I had to vent and collect myself before I call my husband.

Please always be aware of what's going on around you.

Tasty Morsels: The Friday Wrap Up

The Morsels:

1) Have you heard? Mustaches are back. There was a whole segment about it on the Today Show this morning. I have two things to say about that. First of all, the Today Show needs better producers and second, I don't like a mustache unless there's a goatee underneath it. Yes, I know I have one but that's irrelevant. I'm a child of the 70's and I grew up in the era of the 'stache and I don't want them to come back. Ever. We won't even discuss sideburns (sooo unflattering) or the nastiest facial hair ever invented —soul patches. Nope. Not discussing. Yuck.

3) The one thing the Today Show producers are doing right is bringing my bud Stefanie of Baby on Bored on the show to pimp her new book "Sippy Cups are Not for Chardonnay!" She'll be on the Today Show on March 30th and on Fox & Friends the morning of March 31st. Set the TIVO and support a fellow blogger by picking up her book. Break a leg, Stef!

3) This week Stacy (J's Mommy) wrote a post that keeps bouncing around in my thoughts. It reminded me of how much I miss my girlfriends. Most of the really good ones don't live here anymore and the ones that do are so busy with their kids/family, there's no time for hanging out anymore. And if I wanted to make a new girlfriend, there's just no time to cultivate friendships that don't involve children in some way anyway. I have a bunch of those already and while it's not at all bad to have friends with kids, it's a double-edged sword when the mutual friendship of your children is the guiding force of your friendship. If you don't know this yet, you will.

I really miss the days when you would drag a friend with you everywhere. I remember getting on the phone and saying things like "Come with me to the DMV" or "Wanna hang out while while I do laundry?" My friends were the bomb. We did everything together. Now I do all that mundane stuff with kids or alone and it's such a drag. I can still call my friends to bitch or vent if I need to but it's not the same.

4) I've been pondering going to BlogHer and I'm THIS close to deciding "yes." As most of you know, I wrote a long post about some of my issues with going to a place where I know nobody and have to negotiate being comfortable in a large crowd. While I still have those issues, I have to say that knowing I'm not alone helps immeasurably.

Your comments made me feel much better in numerous ways. I have great readers/friends. Just about all of you that commented are on my Blogroll or in my Bloglines (one of these days I will synchronize them and have the same blogs on both) but there is one person in particular that I don't believe I've ever encountered who left the very first comment, in the middle of the night no less. It was so unbelievably sweet and generous of her to reach out to a stranger and I would be remiss not to give her a shout out --> Thank you, Lena! And to all of you who insist you are not cool enough to go to BlogHer, I just have to say Puh! 'cause I disagree totally.

5) I bought Hubz this shirt from my charity T-shirt line and he looks pretty dang hot in it! If anyone was thinking of ordering something, let me know and I'll give you a promo code for $5 off.

6) My inner Beavis & Butthead thinks this Google ad from dooce.com is really funny:

Fishy Vaginal Odor?
"How To Smell Fresh At All Times" 68,000 Women Already Know
www.enzara.com/Guarantee

The Wrap Up:
It's been spring break all week (remember when it was called Easter vacation?) and while I love spending time with my kids (No, I really do...we have a lot of fun) entire days with two of them is exhausting. All week I've been Julie the Friggin' Cruise Director which means I get to find things for my older child, TQ, to do all day long. This includes babysitting for a working friend one afternoon.

I don't mind doing this because then TQ has a playmate and I don't have to hear about how bored she is (yes, five year olds complaining of boredom. I know. It's both unbelievable AND irritating) but since I also have a baby, I never get to cash in all the babysitting credits I've racked up. People always want to watch your kid at their house and now that my 9 month old son is mobile, other people's houses have become "places in which he will surely die" simply because he's into every freaking thing and will put anything he finds right into his mouth. Knowing this will make it a bit difficult to enjoy all those margaritas I planned on imbibing when I finally made my escape....

Unfortunately, I have to resort to such things as free babysitting because we don't live in a neighborhood teeming with children. No...we live in a neighborhood teeming with dog lovers. I mean I like dogs, too, but a dog won't play Barbies or endless games of Candyland with your kid. So yeah...it would not be an understatement to say it's maximum suckage living here.

PS: Please visit Fidget, my renter this week. She has a great blog full of many things funny, dramatic, bittersweet and of course, mom-ish. Go say hi!

I know I suck...

I know I suck for leaving my anxiety whinefest to languish for so many days without a new post. But I have a really good excuse.

It's spring break here.

All kids. All day.

Ahhh...see? I knew you'd totally understand once I'd explained.

I intend to do the good old Friday Wrap later so ya'll come back now, ya heah?

Those Pesky Social Anxieties

(I tried to edit this post for brevity because it was really long. And I did. But I also added a blurb so it's not really that much shorter. Sorry ;-)

I keep thinking that I ought to go to BlogHer; that it's good to be a joiner, to be a part of something; that it's a chance to have fun and hang with the cool kids (that would be you).

The fate of the world is not depending on this and it should be a really simple decision. But for me, it's not.

While I am not a classic introvert, it seems I still inadvertently fall into that general category. I'm not shy or antisocial by any means. I very much enjoy the company of others but after a lifetime of anxious discomfort in large groups, I worry, with good reason, about whether or not to spend an assload of money to go far away to get that horribly familiar feeling of being alone in a crowd. But what's worse than that is thinking, no — being certain — that other people can see how un-in-the-loop you feel. Honestly, the idea that all of you could just see right into my psyche and sense how embarrassed I am to be pathetically tagging along as a 24th wheel (well said, Kristen) is a horrid feeling.

Do you remember in grade school or middle school when the teacher would say "Okay, everyone find a partner and pair up"? Is there nothing worse than trying to find a partner and realizing everyone around you has already found one? And doesn't it seem like it's happening in semi-slow motion? And before you know it, there you are standing there with no partner and your teacher sticks you with the guy from the other side of the room that smells weird who also wasn't slick enough to pounce on someone. And just so you know, I really wasn't a complete dork or pariah like you might imagine. I generally had cool clothes , decent hair and a circle of close friends (and I smelled pretty good, too). I was just invisible sometimes because I didn't know how to navigate socially outside the confines of an intimate group. As I got older and away from the school caste system, I became much more savvy but still, even then, I had trouble when in the larger group and not within my cozy inner circle. This was a problem particularly when I was in the company of people I regarded as cool or superior to myself. (Big Sidebar: I actually dated an incredibly popular guy in 9th grade but when we got together with his unspeakably cool friends, I swear I couldn't think of a single clever thing to say so I just said nothing. Every Friday night was a mild form of torture. He eventually dumped me for a girl who was not a mute idiot)

Here's a parallel to the above that most will relate to... You know how when you don't really like a guy *like that*, you can be totally yourself; confident and flirty, and you don't even think about it at all? But when you're around a guy you like, you can't think of anything to say and you feel all weird and self-conscious and if another girl comes up and talks to him, you just feel like a stupid, uncool, unsexy dunce-y statue because you're just standing there without a damn thing to say and if you did say something it would sound hopelessly retarded so you just mumble something and walk away, hoping that you look better than you feel? Well...that's how I feel in groups (perhaps to a slightly lesser degree now that I'm all grown up, but still...)

One exception to the aforementioned is when I'm around people I totally don't care about. An example... This past Saturday I took my daughter to a birthday party. I knew all the parents there in passing because our kids go to school together. They're all nice but not what I'd call my peers. I am good friends with a couple of them but as a whole, I don't sweat this group at all. So I'm all funny and entertaining and regaling everyone like I'm a freaking celebrity and it's grand. This, however, is not the person you will meet at BlogHer. Why? because I like you guys and I consider you my contemporaries. I want you to like me so naturally I become the uncool, dunce-y chick referenced above and you all are the guy. The only way I can be comfortable is to have an intimate group to stick with. Not a clique but more of a safety net so that I never feel icky and 24th wheelish (or find myself wandering around all alone, covertly reading name tags trying to find someone I "know".) Pretty dumb, huh?

Part of me is thinking that unless I want to hear about Blogher for another year and regret not going every time, I oughta go and try to have some damn fun. But as always, I have these silly issues and it's really bugging me. I want to make up my mind before everyone pairs up like they did in bio class and I'm left standing alone, like the proverbial cheese.

As an aside... I have this vision of me going up to other well-known bloggers and saying "Hi I'm Izzy. I really enjoy your blog." and they respond with nothing but a stare and a polite half-smile, as if to say "Yes, but who the frig are you?" and then I pray for a rewind button right before I die of embarassment.

Tomorrow I will totally regret posting this but right now it feels good to vent and let it out. *big sigh*

PS: After fielding several requests for graphics and blog headers etc. I decided to gather up some that I worked on for various other projects and as comps and retool them as freebies. Take a look and say you'll put a button on your blog :-)

Official Blogher Head Count

Who's going for sure and who's thinking about it? Please post it here. This inquiring mind wants to know.

As for me, I was going to pass because of breastfeeding but Peebs, now ultra-mobile, seems far less attached to it than I am these days. *choking back a tiny sob* That said, BlogHer is definitely under consideration. This warrants a whole other post wherein I discuss my plethora of well-hidden social anxieties. Can't wait, can you?

My other question: Is BlogHer just an excuse to meet other bloggers, cut loose and have fun or are you genuinely interested in the "conference" aspect. Just curious.

And finally (I just added this after reading Rhonda's comment) how many of you would prefer an "East Coast" get-together over going to BlogHer? Again, just curious.

PS: After fielding several requests for graphics and blog headers etc. I decided to gather up some that I worked on for various other projects and as comps and retool them as freebies. Take a look! Wanna HOT looking button for your blog? C'mon! They're limited edition, for-special-people-only buttons ;-P

PSS: If anyone wants to order stuff from Cafe Press (doesn't have to be from my store) let me know and I'll give you a code for $5 off an order of $20 or more.

***Also, don't forget about Sue's contest where the winner gets their $250 fee to BlogHer paid :-)***

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Are you doing anything to celebrate today?

Are you Irish or maybe just Irish for the day?


Did you wear green?

Dress the kids in green?

Did you or do you plan to eat any Irish foods or drink green beer?

Here's a trivia question for you...

What did St. Patrick drive out of Ireland? No fair leaving and googling the answer!
______________________________________________

UPDATE: Those of you who said "snakes" are what SP drove out if Ireland are correct! I know it wasn't the toughest question but hey...this isn't your catechism class and I sure ain't a nun ;-)

Funniest answer goes toMrs. Fortune who, once again, forced me to dig into my pile of "last resort underwear" because I pee myself every time I read her.

Most smartass? Why Mom 101, of course :-)

Palace O' Bodily Fluids: Episode 3

Downside:
We're going on day four of one illness (the baby) and day two of another (the 5 yr old). Let me spare you the whining and extensive gross details by just stating that I've stepped in little vomit spots THAT NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT twice already today. Nice, eh?

Upside:
I didn't have to make/pack a snack & lunch for TQ or get up and drive her to school today OR yesterday. Those of you who do those things every day know this is a pretty decent upside.

I plan on keeping it brief but I wanted to tell those of you in Mississippi*, in case you missed the news due to sick kids, diaper blowouts, dinner-cooking or what have you, that while your Passion Party hostesses are now criminals and consenting adults are NOT allowed to buy sexual aids, YOUR GUN SELLERS ARE STILL SAFE, BY GOD!

Praise the Lord!

*Georgia, Indiana, Texas, Louisiana and Virginia..the same goes for you.

And finally, the best news for last. I heard this from Melissa at Suburban Bliss but on the off chance that you're not one of her ten zillion readers....Club Mom wants mom bloggers. Don't let this opportunity pass. YOU could be getting paid for those thoughts you usually give away for free. Check it!

***PS: Don't forget about the contest at Red Stapler The winner will have their entrance fee to this years Blogher conference paid for so go check it out! ***

Do People Still Say "Hump Day"?

Happy hump day!

Thanks to everyone for sharing your thoughts on the pre-K 5 flasher. Also, a lot of new names down there, which you should know, I just luuuuurve. I'll be checking ya'll out later.

Right now, however, I am feeling a spark of inspiration crossed with nostalgia. No, not the kind of inspiration that might produce a high quality Club-Mom-Will-Pay-You-Money-to-Blog caliber of post. No sireee. That kind of thing cannot be forced. Today, instead of regaling you with deep thoughts, biting commentaries, or the type of LOL! posts we all love, I'm posting old pictures (because who doesn't love looking at old photos of people they don't even know?) and perhaps my shopping list.

Oh good. You're still here. Thought that shopping list business might send you scampering off to a more enticing destination, like sayyyyy...the C-Span website.
Well...to your left is a picture of me, Miss Phi Delta Badass (I stole that from Dawn) at the Lakewood Amphitheater in Atlanta in 1993. I think the show was Helmet, 311 and some other up-and-coming bands. We were in town for the Great Atlanta Pot Festival, except it had been rescheduled so we just did other stuff, like this. "We" means me and four of my girlfriends. We all piled into my VW Golf and drove to Georgia from Florida. Who knew a Golf could hold that much estrogen? I think later that night we went out clubbing and ended up at a loft party all night. Another night we went out and ended up at Backstreets , a longstanding gay nightclub, until sunrise because it stayed open until 6am. Ah...those were the days. I seriously think 1993, the year before I got married, was one of the "funnest" ever. Later that year, hubz and I hooked up. We got married about 10 months later and the rest is history. You may or not be able to tell that my hair is striped and kind of reddish. All I can say is never, EVER, trust your friend when she says you should let HER do your highlights instead of going to a reputable salon because she's a licensed beautician. The tip off should have been that she was working as a nanny. Turns out she got fired from Supercuts. Later, I would end up coloring it red and continue to do so for about a year, until I got sick of getting my dark roots done every 6 weeks. I could never be a bottle blonde. That touch-up business really blows... So check me out in my vegan-friendly, super-duper ugly non-leather purple Birkenstocks. I would later leave those behind on either the Butthole Surfers or Stone Temple Pilots tour bus. No....I wasn't shagging rock stars. You've read "I'm With the Band" one time too many :-P Another story, another time. (I don't smoke anymore, by the way, and I wasn't really a badass. I just look like one in these pix)

So yes, my shopping list. I need:

• Nursing pads, preferably the Johnson & Johnson ones because I swear, they add about a bra-size. (they're also "boob-shaped" because breasts should never have right angles on them) The J&J nursing pads...oh, how I will miss them when we finally wean and my boobs deflate.

• Something chocolate. The cravings, I must stop them.

• Organic milk, which is a total crap shoot around here lately, unless you need lactose-free, which is always in stock and very gross, IMO.

• A new Pur filter because our water is SO chlorinated, I might as well be drinking from my assbite neighbor's pool.

• A new toaster oven because ours, a mere three years old, has shit the bed. Have you tried to find an under-the-counter toaster oven recently? I think I'd have better luck locating a Dodo bird. Is there a black market for under-the-counter appliances? Email me.

And, as a public service to all of you, here are some products I have recently tried and found utterly disgusting (Please note that the Lipton pasta is the WHOLE GRAIN version. The regular kind is okay.) Consider yourself warned :-)
Oh, how things have changed... Now tell me, what were you doing in 1993?

ADDENDUM: You guys! Your compliments are SO sweet but in all fairness, you should know that I'm just a very tired and very unhot mom these days ;-)

Jeepers Peepers

Over the weekend, my daughter, TQ, mentioned rather casually that a boy in her 5 yr old pre-K class "showed us his penis." Then she informed us that while she didn't actually GET to see it because her friends were in the way, she did, in fact, WANT to see it.

Trying as hard as I can to be relaxed and not freak her out (or laugh, because despite the "serious” subject matter, it was kind of funny), I asked where this happened. "In the yellow tube on the playground" she replied. Basically, I grilled her about the whole thing to make sure it wasn't an exaggeration or tall tale and it seems that it isn't.

The boy, a classmate, did in fact show his thang to three little girls in the yellow tube. He told another girl to go get them because he wanted to "show them something funny." In they went and there it was, except TQ got gypped because she couldn't completely see IT. Nonetheless, she seemed to think the whole thing was rather comical.

Hubz, on the other hand, was pretty ticked and I had to nudge him and tell him to chill. Why? Because while I'm not thrilled to think about pre-K peepshows happening at an excellent private school to which we pay a small fortune each month, I'm glad that she told me at all and I praised her for it. If I started ranting and raving or making a big stink, I'm fairly certain that she would be savvy enough to not mention this sort of thing next time, should it ever occur again. I'd like to keep those lines of communication open for as long as possible.

After she told us the whole story, I explained to her, as casually as I could, that anything inside your underwear is private and that nobody should be showing it and nobody should be looking at it or touching it. My daughter has seen her baby brother naked so she knows what little boys look like and they ARE small children. Curiosity is natural and normal. To that end, I really don't want to start making body parts naughty or taboo and I don't want to be responsible for my child having a bunch of weird hang-ups as an adult.

I’m still not sure how to address the whole thing with the school. I know that telling the teacher will create a big ordeal and spur on an “investigation" that will serve no purpose but to make them feel like they've properly addressed “the situation.” And if I mention it to the boy's mother, it might not be well received and then my daughter could be labeled a liar or troublemaker. It just seems like a lose-lose situation and I don't like either option.

I've told my daughter what she needs to know about situations like that and I believe that she clearly understands. Beyond that I’m in a holding pattern while I think it over. TQ's teacher had a death in the family and she'll be out until next Monday so I won't be able to speak with her until then anyway.

If your child came home and told you something like this, what would you do and why?

(I don't even want to THINK about what kind of google searches this post is going attract...)

***PS: Don't forget about the contest at Red Stapler The winner will have their entrance fee to this years Blogher conference paid for so go check it out! (after you post here...lol)***

Life-Flavored Nuggets

Have a Cigar
I have a new baby! Please meet Nikon D50. We're calling him "D" for short. Is he not fabulous? You should see his pictures. He's very talented :-)



From the Mouths of Babes
On Saturday my daughter and I went shopping in stores that don't have meat departments It was a big day.

• While we were shopping, "You're so Vain" by Carly Simon was playing (which I LOVE) and she says incredulously "Clowns in her coffee??? Who ever heard of putting clowns in coffee? That's mean" (If you're not familiar...the chorus says "I had a dream there were clouds in my coffee)

• Later, we were in Target and I was looking for some jeans for hubz. As we came across a huge wall of Wrangler jeans I said, "Hmmm. I don't know. I'm pretty sure Daddy won't wear Wranglers" And she replies "Danglers? Daddy doesn't like danglers?" lololol No. I'm pretty sure he doesn't. (Sounds dirty, doesn't it?)

• The other day she comes up to me and says, "Do I have any clothes from the jamboree?" Can you see the giant question mark floating over my head? "Huh? What jamboree?" And she says, "Courtney wore a dress from the jamboree today." lol...she meant Gymboree, the kids store. But I thought "jamboree" was way cuter and I made her say it like a hundred times.

General News
• My abs are sore as hell. I very foolishly did some crunches. TWO days ago. The crunches, they are evil.

•Well, Peebs has finally contracted the grossest virus so far; "Hand, foot and mouth disease" (aka Coxsackie virus) This is a very common childhood illness. Chances are your kids will get it, too, if they haven't already had it. Anyway, he's more grumpy than ill but he's got these gnarly, liquid-filled blisters all over him, even on his upper lip. He's having a tough time nursing and eating. He won't let me look but I'd bet he has them inside his mouth, too. The poor little guy...

In more pleasant news, Peebs is crawling now which is great for him, as he's considerably less fussy now that he's mobile. Bad for me because, well...he's mobile now. And into everything.

• The househunt is off. We concluded that buying a new house in our price range will involve paying property taxes in the ballpark of $500 per month. We just can't affford that and furthermore, it's fucking ridiculous. So now, trees be damned, we're considering an addition. The upshot is that when they finally finish the friggin' Wild Oats store they've been working on for a year, it will be down the street. Our regular grocery store has been out of organic milk the last 4 times I went shopping, which really, REALLY chafes my ass. I want that damn store open NOW!

Grey's Anatomy
For the first time, I actually really felt empathetic towards Addison. And she did look unusually pretty last night. I think it was the soft pink lipstick.

Dear God, thank you making them do something about George's hair. Even like that it's better than before. Please let him have happy sex with the hot lady doctor. Amen.


Sitemeter Fun...This Just In!

Referring URL		http://search.msn.co...t&first=11&FORM=PORE
Search Engine		search.msn.com
Search Words		my girl friend is fascinated with other womens breast

That's nice. And you're here because...?


•And finally, a shot of one of the Izzywig Foxy Mama shirts for charity (Depression After Delivery). Thanks to all who are buying Izzywig Gear. It's for a good cause!

Can you guess who my supermodel is? (it's not me)
Guess correctly and win Izzywig charity gear!
.

Giving Birth Wasn't Enough?

Here at Moonshine, there's not much I won't write about. Within reason, anything is fair game. That said, I'd like to discuss something that is causing me some serious distress lately. I know "crotch couture" has already been touched upon over at Motherhood Uncensored recently but seriously, what IS the deal with body hair after pregnancy? There was a time when none of this was an even issue. I mean I had hair where you’re supposed to — just not freaking acres of it. Now? I'm pretty sure they'll be saving a booth for me at the carnival. In the sideshow, that is....

After my first baby, I noticed that ever so slowly, my bikini line was advancing a bit beyond its formerly acceptable property line. Then I noticed that my upper lip hair, while still fine, was darker and there was a bit more of it, too. I mentioned this to my doctor who explained to me that when you're breastfeeding, your estrogen levels remain low and that's what causes it, not unlike when old ladies have chin hairs and mustaches etc. She said when I stopped nursing, things would return to normal but that she couldn't do much about the existing hair. Great. I love the "Sasquatch meets bingo ladies" look.

Fast-forward 5 years. I have another baby, 9 months old, and I'm still nursing. I've made peace with my original hair issues. Sort of. But now I'm noticing that a number of my eyebrow hairs are reallly long. I'm turning into Abe freaking Vigoda here. Or Groucho Marx. Pick the eyebrow monster of your choice.... And my bikini line? It's marching onward again. Just here and there, with individual hairs defying me, but still — I hate it — it's making me insane.

But the piece de resistance; the thing that bothers me the most....(are you ready for this????) is the LONG WHITE HAIR that now grows from the MIDDLE of my forehead. Seriously, what IS this shit???????? I spend more time shaving, plucking and searching for new evil hairs than I care to admit. The worst, part, however, is that it always, always comes back and a hell of a lot faster than it used to.

I want to keep nursing but I'm afraid when I'm done I'll look like Chewbacca. And yes, I know there are modern hair removal methods available. I see the billboard of one such establishment mocking me every damn day with some eighteen year old in a bikini and a tagline designed to make feel me as horrible and insecure as possible. (mission accomplished, assholes) Do you know how expensive that shit is??? I'd have to tap into our home equity line to pay for it.

Then of course, there's waxing but unless there's some secret that I don't know, waxing sucks just as much as shaving. You wax and it's gone for a while but when it grows back, you have these horrid ingrown hairs around your hoo-ha. It's nasty and not conducive to swimsuit season OR hot sex.

I know that hormones after pregnancy can be crazy. In fact, mine have never been quite the same since after my first pregnancy. And trust me, there's nothing like someone calling you "peri-menopausal" to make you feel ready for throwing in the hair war towel. Yes. Someone suggested that I might be peri-menopausal. "The hell you say!!!" I screeched inwardly! "I'm still in my thirties, dammit!" Arghhhhhhhhh! I am young. I am vital. I am not going down without a fight!

Is anyone else battling with weird postpartum or hormonally-triggered hair growth? Do you know how to wax without ingrown hairs? Can anyone explain a long white hair that grows from one's forehead? I know someone out there has the answers to these great mysteries. My poor tweezers are exhausted. I’m getting eyestrain. We need help.

***And after you leave me your pearls of wisdom, drop by Peebugg Press's place. She's my new renter over there in the sidebar! Her blog is way interesting. I couldn't stop reading. Check it out.***

Here from Citymama?

Hi there! Are you here from Citymama's Friday Link Love? Then you should probably scroll down at least a couple posts.

I didn't know CityMama was going to give me a shout-out and send all her legions of cool readers my way. If I had, do you think I would have posted a MEME???? I do those when I find myself having erectile dysfunction of the blog and just can't get it up — or when I'm really busy.

The comments from said meme are very interesting and I have enjoyed them immensely but I also know that memes may make some of you groan with disappointment. One look and you're outta here, looking for something with a better anti-suckage factor. I don't blame you. Really, I don't. But if you were so inclined to dig around a bit, you might be pleasantly surprised.

C'mon, you don't think CityMama would send you someplace lame, do you? Hell no!!!

Phriday Phun Phive

I hardly ever do memes but what the hell, it's Friday. If you're reading this, you're tagged! Yeah, yeah...you hate memes. I know. Do it anyway :-)

Do this on your own blog and then copy/paste it into the comments here. That last part is VERY important. It will be much "phun" (har har...clever aren't I?)

------------------------------------------------------------

1) What is your favorite word?

2) What word irks you everytime you hear someone say it? You can have more than one.

3) Name the first concert you ever went to.

4) Name a song will you never get sick of hearing.

5) What song, album or band influenced you most as a teenager OR what song/album is the soundtrack of your youth? You can pick more than one if you have to.

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Here are my answers:

1) "Elysium" because I like the way it sounds and I like the definition.

2) "nourish" and "moist" really bug me. I hate when people say "voanerable" instead of "vulnerable". That drives me crazy!!! (plus it reminds me of "boner") This is the short list. There are so many more...

3) Donna Summer - age 10 (not sure if this counts because we were with my friend's mom and we had the WORST possible seats) The first concert I went to sans parental supervision was Van Halen- Diver Down Tour, age 14.

4) Feeling That Way/Anytime by Journey or if you prefer a more updated choice, there's always this clever little ditty (I heard it on Grey's Anatomy) that gets stuck in my head for days.

5) Influenced by:

-David Bowie, All albums
-Pink Floyd, All albums
-The Smiths, Hatful of Hollow

Soundtrack:

-assorted Led Zeppelin from about ages 9-11 because I had this total burnout, pothead teen babysitter that played LZ nonstop when she was over, which was every night.

-Pink Floyd - Dark Side of the Moon & The Wall from younger teen years

-assorted progressive/new wave/art fag/alt-rock stuff from older teen years i.e. Depeche Mode, Violent Femmes, The Smiths, New Order, Pixies, Janes Addiction etc.

Thinking... (UPDATED)

Wow. I went to ThisMom's blog because I heard she was taking a break from blogging and I wanted to see for myself what it takes to get someone to that point. And her words could have been mine, albeit hers are far more elegant.

I have devoted countless hours to blogging and while I have enjoyed it beyond measure, I too, feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole sometimes. Part of it is because I can't STOP reading your blogs and part of it stems from my desire to not suck at things (while still maintaining my title as a total underachiever, of course). I'll never be the next Dooce or Suburban Bliss, nor do I aspire to that, but being recognized as a blogger worth reading every day is nice. None of us can deny that it feels good. But while I love the community and the daily laughs, I'm so behind in my responsibilities and in the past four months, my life has become far more disorganized and chaotic because frankly, I'd rather be here with you guys than doing all that other boring shit like working, folding laundry or thinking about dinner.

But...living and dying by the comments I get or wondering why I just dropped 20 points in one day on BlogTopsites is starting to feel a bit like the hamster wheel. I'm going and going but getting nowhere thinking about that stuff and it feels a bit ridiculous sometimes, especially when I have real-life things that need my attention far more.

What I'd really like is if you all lived here and we were all neighbors, sharing fun and good times while raising our kids (or pets!) instead of being in this place called cyberspace. I have lamented over and over about how I can't find any cool, fun women where I live so you all have filled a serious void in my life, however, I have to wonder if I'm overdosing a bit here.

I have to be on my computer a lot because of the work I do. It's sooo easy to just pop open my browser "for just a minute" and see what's up and read a few blogs. Before you know it, an hour or two has passed. I feel like I'm letting real life suffer sometimes because of it.

Do any of you feel conflicted about the amount of time you spend reading blogs and/or writing for your blog?

Does anyone have any ideas on how to ease-off without having withdrawals or losing all my reader friends?

I don't want to give it up completely. I just designed a new site, dammit! But something has got to give so help a sister out and tell me how to get my freaking life back and still keep blogging.

Thanks :-)

UPDATE: In regard to comments I received...

God. You all have made me feel SO much better. I didn't know that anyone else was having this same issue with blogging. I'm here thinking I'm a total freakshow.

Every single one of you has contributed something of major value here and given me a lot to consider.

I'm going to try to implement time limits, as well as using Bloglines more. I'm also going to stop pressuring myself to "do it all" and try to keep all of this in perspective.

That said, I hope you all will not take it personally if I don't drop by your blogs 436 times a day like I usually do. Maybe a few times a day or every other day will have to do. I'll just have to live with that feeling that I'm missing out on something, which is REALLLLLLY hard for me.

Also, I may not respond to your comments as often as I usually do. Just know I have read and appreciated them, as always.

And finally, I do plan to keep posting fairly regularly so don't forget about me!!!!

Thanks again to all of you for your kindness and again, I wish ya'll were my neighbors. I'd bake each of you a cake :-)

A New Toy

Kate Hudson
Victoria Principal
Ashton Kutcher
Tyra Banks
Jennifer Connelly
Kate Bush
Bob Hope
Chaka Khan
Lisa Stansfield
Britney Spears
Eva Herzigova
Charlotte Church

What do the above names have in common? Well, according to the My Heritage Face Recognition doohickey, which I found courtesy of my pal, Sue, from Red Stapler, these are the celebrities with whom I share some sort of facial resemblance or characteristics. I was especially proud to have the late hottie Bob Hope on my list. NOT!

I used two different photos and this list is a blend of both. Ashton Kutcher and Victoria Principal (the non-scary pre-plastic surgery version, I hope) were on both lists.

Go do yours and then come back with your results. Someone else better get dudes on theirs...

The Tip

The other day, in the morning, I was watching the Tyra Banks show (which merits a post all it's own) and she had that Sex Talk lady from Oxygen on as a guest. What's her name? Sue something, I think. She's the woman that always has a bunch brightly colored vibrators and dildos sitting on her desk like decorations (which always reminds me of when Tootie and Natalie from Facts of Life bought bongs and put jellybeans in them) Sorry, my ADD...

Anyway, she was talking about sex, as usual, but she said something that really struck a chord with me; something about how men should make a point of telling their women how beautiful (sexy, attractive, hot, insert-the-compliment of your choice here) they are in order to help women relax more and not be so body-conscious etc. thus making sex a more enjoyable experience and one likely to occur more often. Amen, sister! You know that of which you speak!

You'd think this would be common sense. You'd think that this would be the one surefire tip that's been passed from guy to guy since the dawn of time or at least since the dawn of supermodels and Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issues. But somehow I don't think that's the case.

Hello? Guys? Do you want to shag or not? Oh, you do? Then you better get with it and start telling your lady that she's smokin' hot and make it believable.

Yes, believable is what I said. And I say it because while I really want to rekindle the days when Hubz actually did say things like that to me and we had sex all the time, I feel like if I have to ask him or remind him, then when he DOES do it, I'll be thinking "Yeah...you're just saying that because I told you to" and then I'll just get irritated and not be in the mood and he'll be like "Whoa... complimenting her was a bad idea. I'll never do that again" and we'll never have sex anymore for real.

I can't speak for anyone else but while I don't look exactly like I used to, I still feel like I look pretty damn good for having two kids and being a few years shy of forty. Yes, I need to lose that bit of baby weight but I'm tall and it's spread out fairly well. Let's just say I'm not repulsive and I'm reasonably sexy when I make the effort, okay? It shouldn't be that hard to compliment me. He does say I look nice every now and then and he does give me the obligatory "No, you're not fat, you look great for someone who just had a baby" but that's NOT what I'm talking about here. I need to know that I'm the one he's HOT for. Is that so unreasonable? Ladies? Guys?

Part of me hopes he reads this post even though he's not allowed to read my blog and gets a clue without having to get it directly from me. Or maybe one of you guys can tell him about "The Tip" --> "Compliment your woman and make her feel hot and if there's not an 8 month old sleeping 3 feet away she'll definitely have sex with you."

Thank You :-)

Thanks to everyone who voted for me for Crazy/Hip Blog Mamas "Member of the Week" You guys rock!

CHBM Writing Collaboration

If you don't know about this, it's a writing prompt on a certain topic, organized by the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas web ring. The topic is:

What Does being a Crazy Hip Blog Mama Mean to You?

I gave this some thought. And then I thought about it some more. I even thought about it when I was nursing Peebs before bed. And I have decided that being a Crazy Hip Blog Mama is a lot like obscenity or pornography, which is to say...I can't define it but I know it when I see it :-p

If pressed, however, I guess I'd say that to me it means marching to your own drum. I know that doesn't exactly jibe with the the words "crazy" or "hip" or "blog" but when you say "Crazy Hip Blog Mama" that's the kind of woman I think of. So there you have it, gang!

One thing I can say about all the CHBM's I've met so far, though, is that while they're all different and unique, they are generally a funny, talented and very kind bunch of women (and one man) that I'm glad to have fallen in with.

Now get on with your bad selves!

The End
________________________

I'm a nominee for Crazy/Hip Blog Mama's Member of the Week. If you haven't yet voted, pop over there and show me some blog mama love by way of a quick vote for "Moonshine." Even if you voted last week you can vote again because you get a new chance every week. Thank you :-)

And finally...if you've made it this far, then you've earned this...a hilarious homage to those pants known as "mom jeans"

Proof that Blogging Doesn't Suck

If you want to read something really beautiful go here. Reluctant Housewife found it and shared it.

This was my comment. I'm posting it here for myself, because I want to remember how I felt when I read her post:

"You have really struck a nerve with this piece. I can very much relate. Every day I vaccillate between irritation and awe. I always feel the inner struggle between being a good mom and thinking only of myself. But the kids always win. I adore them and hold tight to every moment, knowing they won't always be mine."

Worst Mommy Ever?

Did you get the memo? I am the meanest mommy. Everrrrrrrrrrr. Well, according to my five year old daughter, anyway. She's having a tantrum and that is her new mantra these days.

I aksed her to sit with her baby brother for a second while I went pee. I was literally 5 feet away and I was gone about 15 seconds. In that time, he started crying. I went in there and asked why he was crying and she confessed that she pulled his hair. How hard, I ask? Really hard, she says. Why, I ask? She doesn't know.

So I tell her we're not going out for pizza (Hubz is at a gig tonight. I have a cold. I asked what she wanted and that was her choice. ) because I will not reward being mean to a helpless baby and she goes into hysterics. I also took her to a playdate at the park today with her new best bud (no school) but apparently that doesn't matter. I am still the Worst. Mommy. Everrrrrrrr.

Hold on. What's that? Oh...apparently she thinks "nothing is ever fair for me" If it wasn't so utterly ridiculous, I'd be laughing my ass off.

Oh wait...daughter just came out and told me, verbatim "If I don't get to go for pizza, I'm going to explode and cry for the rest of my life" Emotional blackmail suckage.

Well, on a lighter note, we had a great day at the park. The weather was fantastic and I had good company in the way of a newish mommy friend that is super sweet. Plus she said she'd go to the movies with me. That's huge! None of my mom friends ever do anything or go anywhere. So yay for that! Also, Hubz says he's taking the money from this gig tonight and buying us a Nikon D50 because I hate our old Fuji so much. Is he sweet or what?

And if you haven't yet voted for Crazy/Hip Blog Mama's Member of the Week, pop over there and throw me a bone. C'mon...be your best friend! If you lived here, I'd even go to the movies with you :-)

Now I have to go cook dinner... (the down side to sticking to one's guns)

***I have a new renter, Life as Lou, located in the sidebar. She's a mom of two and a military wife. Lou's writing is funny and full of descriptive, clever observations. You simply must drop by and read her latest post about attending a Passion Party!***

Did I Really Say I was Going to Blog This?

I'm a fan of consignment stores. I truly think they are great. Without them, what would we do with all the assloads of baby and kid junk that we've acquired that they so quickly outgrow or get tired of? Yes, I know I can give it to the Salvation Army and many times I do, but I'll be damned if I'm going to hand over a $60 Gymboree dress, worn only once, to the Salvation freaking Army. The same goes for all the other overpriced, new-with-tags crap in my daughter's closet. Even better, however, are the great things you can GET there. There are some serious bargains happening in consignment shops and so I usually check there first for things where it doesn't really matter if it isn't brand new.

After Christmas I went to my neighborhood consignment store to try and find a pair of tap shoes in my daughter's size as hers seemed to be too small after the holiday break from dance. As we sat on the floor trying different pairs, I came across some that looked to be close to her size. They were very similar to the ridiculously expensive Capezio's that we had consigned a few months prior. As I was untying them, I caught a whiff of something. Ughh. What IS that? Then it hit me. "Ewwwww!" I squealed as the shoes went flying from my hands. The woman from the store came running. I sat there on the floor with my hands out in front of me as if they were covered in something awful and vile. "These shoes have cat pee on them!" I screeched. I was justifiably horrified, particularly because I could feel the stickiness of old cat urine mixed with ammonia crystals on my hands and now that I recognized the smell, it was about to make me barf. Before I knew it, the owner had brought me a box of baby wipes and hand sanitizer and was apologizing profusely. She continued to prattle on about how she had no idea how this could have happened etc. I nodded my head politely. Yes, of course, I understand. No problem. But on the inside I'm all "Ewwwww...get me out of here!" I bought a clean, unpeed-upon pair of tap shoes (and I ONLY bought them there because she had class that day and I was in a hurry) and we hauled ass.

A few days later, I came home and there was a message from the consignment store owner. I couldn't imagine why she would be calling. I was very curious so I called her right back.
Our conversation went something like this:
______________

Me: Hi, this is Izzy Smith. You left me a message earlier today to call you.

Owner: Uh, yes, hi. I just wanted to tell you that I was checking my records to see who consigned the shoes with the uh, cat pee on them and uh... THEY'RE YOURS!

Me: *GASP*

Me: *Apologizing repeatedly and telling her I have no clue how they could have gotten peed on blah blah*
_______________

At some point I must have told the woman, in attempt to keep it light and not die of total embarrassment right there on the phone, that I was going to blog about this horrid story, as if it were some cute little anecdote. Talk about your humbling experiences...

So yesterday, after avoiding the shop for about a month because I seriously never wanted to see her again, I decided to bite the bullet and go in because I wanted to see if they had a certain item and what's the first thing she says to me?

"So did you write about the cat pee shoes in your blog?"

"Oh. Haha. Did I say that? Yeah. I mean no. Uh uh. But I will. Mmhmmm" Right after I die of humiliation.

Epilogue
I racked my brains for weeks trying to figure out how this happened because those shoes were only ever in two places: in the car or on my kid's feet. How the holy hell did they get pissed on? The only theory I have is this one: One night I went outside and I saw two big yellow eyes looking back at me form the dash of the BAM (bad-ass minivan). There was a cat in my car. My neighbor's cat, actually. WTF? How'd he get in there? Then I remembered that earlier that day my friend had gotten her daughter's booster out of my car. He must have jumped in without her seeing him and then gotten locked in there for like 8 hours. I guess can see how a pair of tiny patent leather tap shoes might be a viable substitute for a litterbox...you know, in a pinch, or if someone locks you in a car all day.

***And finally, I have a new renter, Life as Lou, located in the sidebar. She's a mom of two and a military wife. Lou's writing is funny and full of descriptive, clever observations. You simply must drop by and read her latest post about attending a Passion Party!***

Blog Exchange Topic: What it Means to Be a Woman Today

Everyone please give a warm welcome to my Blog Exchange Partner, Christina from A Mommy Story. This is her post! You can read mine at her place :-)
_______________________________________

A Failure at Being a Woman?

Izzy is graciously trading me her blog today for the Blog Exchange set up by Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored. One of the topics we were given was "What it means to be a woman today." That one had me thinking for awhile, and my mind drifted to wondering what the true definition of a woman is today, especially compared to what it has been.

If you look at the old, stereotype of being a woman, then I'm a flat out failure. Honestly. I'm much closer to being a man, other than having ovaries and a vagina rather than testicles and a penis.

Here's how I fail at being a woman:

- I rarely, if ever, wear dresses. Generally, I'll wear dresses for weddings, funerals, and maybe a few other special occasions. If it's not one of those events, then don't even bring the pantyhose near me, or I'll choke you with them.

- I prefer the "au natural" look when it comes to makeup. I own makeup, and use it when necessary (see special occasions, above), but most of the time I wear none. I have friends who honestly cannot leave the house without "putting on their face," and that saddens me. Yeah, I know I might look better leaving the house with makeup on, but at least I don't feel so bad about myself that I need it as a crutch for my self esteem. OK, truthfully I don't like how I look, and I'm really just too lazy to mess with makeup daily.

- High heels do not exist in my house. I don't own a single pair. I see no reason to put myself through that kind of pain to look a little taller.

- I've never been meek or coy in my life. I'm generally outspoken, direct, and very proud of my accomplishments. I don't let the boys win to keep their masculine pride. Maybe that's why I had such trouble getting dates in high school?

- I don't cook, am lousy at cleaning, and only so-so with decorating. Yeah, I'm Martha Stewart and Donna Reed's worst nightmare. I could have never survived in the 50's.

This list could go on and on, but I think my point has been made. If compared to the old ideal of a woman, my license for femininity should be revoked.

But thank goodness we women don't have to live up to that ideal any longer. Women have the freedom to define themselves any way they want. There really are no strict ideals to conform to anymore - a woman can wear pants, be a CEO, choose to not have children, and burn every meal she attempts to cook and still be thought of as a good woman.

To me, the only true definition of a woman is a person with XX chromosomes, a vagina, ovaries, a uterus, and breasts. We are equals with men, although we do have one special advantage: we have the ability to carry and give birth to a new life. That is our one special trait, and one I have experienced and want to experience again. We are the life-givers.

Other than those biological distinctions, women are now open for a new definition. Or maybe we all should consider our individual definitions. What's your definition of being a woman? To the women out there, how do you see yourself as a woman in 2006?

Christina

About the Author: My name is Christina and I'm known as mommy to one 17 month old girl (although you'll never hear her call me that), and wife to my husband of three years. I work part-time as a student advisor at a local university, and otherwise can be found holding my daughter's sippy cup for her. I also have a blog of my own, A Mommy Story, and encourage everyone to come check it out!