Confession? No, It’s Honesty

bubbles!Today’s Guest Confession is by Pamela, a stay at home mommy to a free-spirited two and a half year old little girl. She’s been married for almost four years without strangling her Husband. She likes to spend her free time by baking and writing.

I don’t bathe my daughter every day. I bathe her like 3 to four times a week. Because really? She doesn’t sweat much and she’s only two. But if she rolled around in the mud, poured yo baby yogurt all over her hair and its all a matted mess, then that’s a different story.

Sometimes, you just need a wipe to clean her hands because she just squished that spider with her cute little finger. Now, before you go saying that I have a stinky two year old, come and smell her. She smells way cleaner than you. She smells of peaches and chocolates because that’s what I bathe her in.

I don’t iron her clothes either. And honestly if she’s not going to meet the Queen of England or the President of the United States then why iron her clothes? She does look presentable and super cute, might I add but why should I iron her clothes if she’s going to be running, dancing, jumping, taking off her clothes and putting on new non-matching clothes? It’s just a waste of electricity if I chose to iron every item in her closet. I do, however run the iron on her dresses, before she wears them, if we are going to a special occasion like Christmas. I have a lot of photographers in my family that might take photographic proof that there is a wrinkle in her cute little dress or God forbid, her bloomers.

You can close your mouths now. I’m done. ‘Till next time!

Pamela can be found on her blog called A Day in the Life and you can follow her on Twitter.com/VampireSmitten

Confession: I’m 60% made of Ibuprofen

advil = perfect for headachesRemember Nuprin? “Little, Yellow, Different” I do! That commercial and product had a profound effect on who I am today. Then came Advil and good ole generic Ibuprofen. I wonder how much ibuprofen I’ve consumed in my lifetime? I rely heavily on this magical wonder drug sent from heaven above. It is such a great pain reliever and because its generic form is so affordable, we keep a large bottle in our house. I keep a smaller one in my purse, and a mini-sized one ready in our travel luggage.  I am certainly not addicted to it, but rely heavily on having a supply readily available. Remove my supply, and well, I’m likely to get cranky. I am the type of person who feels better just knowing it’s in the cupboard.

I have been known to take a couple in anticipation of pain such as going to the doctor or dentist for a procedure, or simply a long car ride with three kids. Ibuprofen preference (that’s what I’m calling it) runs in my family. Attend a family event and declare you have a headache. No less than4 people will whip out pill cases containing IB (our loving nickname), like cowboys in westerns draw their guns. I figure that since I’m in my late 30′s, I’m probably 60% Ibuprofen. The other 40% is chocolate, wine, cheese, and coffee respectively.

10 Things I Hate About the Word “Mom”

our shadowsAuthor Gigi Eligoloff is a former TV Producer (credits include Big Brother, but don’t hold that against her!). Gigi now runs the ethical online glossy MumsRock.com. And in between raising her two year old son, Kit (along with husband Honest John) and running MumsRock, the family are also in the process of adopting while practising patience, and maintaining that all-important sense of humour.

(The following article “10 Things I Hate About the Word ‘Mom’” recently got quite a bit of national press coverage and has been altered a bit for reprinting.)

It goes without saying that we love lots of things about being a mother. Otherwise we would have cleared off by now and rented a condo next door to Jake Gyllenhall.But back to the ‘M’ word – let’s be honest, you spend maternity leave trying to coax your baby to say the word and it’s downhill from then. Once they’re past age five they make the transition to calling you “mom” in an “I want something” whine, eventually petering out to a grunt in their teenage years.

But it’s not the use of the ‘M’ word by our children that I’m talking about. It’s when it’s used to group us into one big happy army of shabby knitwear, sticky tissues and Tupperware. Here, the 10 most irritating uses of the ‘M’ word:

1. When couples start to call each other “mom” and “dad”, their sex life is now demonstrably a thing of the past.

2. Doctors, nurses, and midwives call you ‘mom’ when you take your kids for appointments. Obviously it’s so they don’t have to bother finding out your name.

3. It makes you feel like your mother. And not in a good way.

4. If you’re hitting the dating scene again, Mom joins up with that other word to become…Single Mom. On dates you’ll soon learn that you must use the ‘M’ word with care. If your date starts fiddling with his mobile, go ahead and pay the bill – the date’s finished. If his eyes mist up and he wants to put his coat around your shoulders, run.

5. It’s part of one of the most annoying ad campaigns that propagates the ‘homogenous Mom’ school of thought. “Moms go to Iceland” (A UK frozen food supermarket) not only implies that we all share the same fashion-sense, shoe-size and postcodes but also assumes that as Moms we actually think it a good idea to feed our children a £3 frozen chocolate gateau. It’s as if Jamie Oliver had never existed.

6. When you become a mom, your Google ads on Facebook suddenly change. You now find you’re invited to enjoy ‘free samples for women over 35″ or urged to embrace the Oprah diet. Welcome to your new demographic.

7. Once your kids start bonding with their peers, you will spend at least a decade with your child’s name as a prefix to your title – e.g. Josh’s mom. That’s now two steps away from who you were, and only a whisker away from becoming Granny.

8. Pre-kids, you would look at a teacher and think – low pay, low prestige, low aspirations. Now those same teachers have the upper hand – long paid holidays, final salary pension and a big say in your beloved child’s future. Come parents evening, even the way they use the ‘M’ word ensures you’ll spend the next six months worrying that the only thing your child will ever amount to is a starring role on the Ricki Lake Show.

9. When your children are screaming “Mom” up the stairs at you, it’s really hard to put on stockings for date night and not feel like a suburban hooker.

10. Aerobics instructors, gym trainers and Pilates teachers automatically assume you want to focus on something called “bums and tums”. After further consultation, it turns out they are right.

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss

The Reader
First, I have to admit that my tastes run a little out of line with the typical mom.  Sure, I may have been instrumental in ushering in the Twilight craze among local moms, but generally speaking…  well, lets just say that I’ve never read a word of Jodi Picoult or Nora Roberts, and I don’t really intend to.  I am a lover of young adult fiction, of fantasy, and admittedly some “chick lit” (I loved The Lovely Bones)

That being said, I just finished reading The Name of the Wind, and I loved it.  It is the story of how a brilliant young boy thrived in the face of adversity, and grew to be an epic hero.

I have to admit that I didn’t like the main character, Kvothe very much at first.  I thought he was arrogant and smug as he recounted his intellectual prowess.  But as the story progresses, and life crushes in on him, you begin to see the man he becomes, when being a clever little boy is no longer enough.

The Name of the Wind is the first (an only published, so far)  book in a promising new series by author Patrick Rothfuss of Wisconsin.  I found it thorough and brilliantly crafted,much like the Harry Potter novels.  Only The Name of the Wind is meatier, designed for adult readers who are looking forsomething more substantial to gnaw on.  If you are any sort of fantasy fan (note that my fantasy fandom doesn’t stray past J.R.R. Tolkein, C.S. Lewis, Neil Gaiman and J.K. Rowling) I think you will thoroughly enjoy this book.

Moms Who Read

In A MomentAt any given moment there is a mom somewhere curled up on the couch with a good book (Twilight, anyone?).  Her dishes pile up in the sink, errands wait to be done, and the kids are playing…or fighting…in the other room.  She looks up to tell them to behave, then buries her nose back into the book.  Is there a more productive way for her to spend her time?  Sure.  Could her kids and house benefit from a bigger piece of her attention?  Naturally.  Is she being a bad mom?  Absolutely not.  She is instead widening her eyes, broadening her horizons, feeding her heart and brain.  She’s taking the time to regroup, she’s pacifying that part of her that is tired of being mom.  She’s stretching the muscles of her imagination.  She’s relaxing.  She’s remembering old feelings or creating compassion for those yet unfelt.  She’s being woman first, wife and mom second, if just for a while.  And the icing on the cake is that she’s also teaching her children without even trying.  She’s teaching them that people- even moms- have their own things to do.  Their own time to fill, their own lives to lead.  She’s teaching them that sometimes its okay to set the world aside and take care of yourself.  And she’s teaching them that a little stack of papers bound together holds something magical inside.

So today, instead of phase 2 in my spring cleaning marathon, I’m going to grab a blanket and a snack, and spend a few hours this afternoon curled up with a good book.
In A Moment
Creative Commons License photo credit: shaycam