Because of my Father

Because of my father, I do not shy away from a DIY opportunity... especially when it comes to broken toilets.

Because of my father, I can spiral a football. I can also throw and hit a baseball. Unfortunately, I never mastered catching a baseball. Unless you count the time I caught a baseball with my face and landed in the emergency room with a broken nose.

Dad's lil slugger
Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I know a well written letter (love, complaint, or recommendation) goes a long way.

Because of my father, I dedicate myself to hobbies and enjoy them even though I know I'll never become a professional... no matter how many lessons I take, years of practice I put into it, or money I throw at it.

We don't have many pictures of Pops.
He was always on the other side of the camera.
Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I can turn an ordinary "Sloppy Joe" sandwich into a gourmet meal by calling it a "Sloppy Joseph" and draping a dish towel over my arm like a waiter at a fancy restaurant.

Because of my father, I don't try to ride my bike up a steep hill in the lowest gear. Yeah, it hurts more when I petal, but I get up the hill faster.

Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I read consumer reports and reviews. I make sure I know the return policy. I comparison shop everything. I always read the instructions first.

Because of my father, my college dorm room was wallpapered with "The Far Side" comic greeting cards.

Because of my father, I listen to and appreciate the musical talents of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Eric Clapton, The Police, and Leo Kottke. My kids are receiving the same education.

Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, "floating like an empty beer can down a river" is an acceptable style of swimming.

Because of my father, I turned in the best school projects, I wore the prettiest dress at the senior prom, and I had the best Father of the Bride speech of all time.

Not a dry eye in the house.
Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I know the early bird gets to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace.

Because of my father, I know that I will never be able to learn how to drive a car with a manual transmission. If he couldn't teach me, no one can. I've accepted this fact.

Because of my father, I have bluish-grey eyes, thick dark hair, broad shoulders, and long fingers. 

They say I look like my dad...
Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I have a low tolerance for annoying neighbors and will most likely move to a place where there aren't many around when I retire.

Because of my father, I want my daughters to go fishing, walk up and down the aisles in a hardware store, work on a car, hammer a nail, hang out in the reptile house at the zoo, and play catch with their dad, too. Hopefully, they inherited The Hub's hand-eye coordination.

Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Because of my father, I love a good story.

Because of my father, I tell a good story.

I am who I am, because of my father.

Happy Father's Day! I love you Pops!
Photo Credit: Edward Pauksta

Kids and the Zombie Apocalypse

Out of all the scary monsters, I like zombies the best. Many of you already know that I am kind of a chicken shit (re: My Dark Secret), but I'm learning to face my fears. From "Night of the Living Dead" to "Dawn of the Dead" to "Shaun of the Dead," The Hub and I have seen our fair share of cheesy and scary movies. We are die hard "The Walking Dead" fans. We've spent countless hours talking about how an outbreak could possibly happen. We also have a pretty decent zombie apocalypse survival plan. We've discussed what we'll need, where we'll go, how we'll get there, and who we want on our team. On the surface, we look pretty prepared. But, let's be honest here. If a zombie apocalypse ever happens, we won't survive. We have kids.

Top 7 Ways Our Kids Will Get Us Killed in a Zombie Apocalypse

1. Food: If I have a hard time convincing my kids to eat regular food, there is no way I'm going to get them to eat grubs and wild mushrooms once our supplies run out. "Honey, eat your squirrel before it gets cold." I can hear the whining already... and so will the zombies. Mark my words, I will be bitten while searching for the last remaining box of Cheerios.

2. Volume Control: Ever try to watch a movie with a 3 year old? How about sit through a family wedding with a fussy toddler on your lap? How often can you make a phone call in peace? Now consider what it will be like when you are hiding in an old abandoned house with a hoard of zombies near by and even the slightest squeak will call attention to your location. Do you really think a three year old will sit quietly for mommy? Not mine. Even if I bribe her with the last Twinkie on earth, my noisy kid will give us away.

3. Speed: It takes an average of 20 minutes to get the kids out of the house and into their car seats on a regular day. If we need to leave our safe house during the zombie apocalypse, our kids will still lose a shoe, forget their blankie or favorite toy (which will cause tantrums galore... see #2), or fuss about sitting in their car seats. A zombie could easily bite one of us on the butt while we're struggling to buckle a seat bealt. Some of you will say, "Forget the seat belts and get in the car!" With zombies crowding the streets, seat belts are of the utmost importance. Haven't you seen "Zombieland?"

4. Hiding: Both my kids are scared of the dark. They cannot go to sleep unless we plug in four nightlights and turn on the hall light. If we do that during a zombie apocalypse and we might as well hang a "All You Can Eat" buffet sign over our front door. We're so screwed.

5. Going Unnoticed: If my kids see a zombified neighbor stumbling down the road, they will yell out, "Hey Mommy! Look! It's our neighbor! Hey neighbor! Let's say 'hi' to our neighbor, Mommy!" They do that all the time to me in the grocery store, especially when I just want to get a gallon of milk and get the hell out of there without being seen in grungy sweatpants and with a make-up free face.

6. Agility: Kids fall down. A lot. I'm not sure why kids have such horrible balance, but I've watched my kids fall down while standing still. If we have to make a mad dash and our kids are running with us, I guarantee one of us is going down. You see it all the time in the movies: A cute klutzy girl twists her ankle and some poor chump goes back to save her from the clutches of the undead only to become zombie chow. Well, our kids are the cute klutzy girls and we're the poor chumps.

Photo Credit: www.makemelaugh.com

7. Combat: We went to a birthday party at a bowling alley/arcade this past weekend. It had a large room for laser tag and both girls wanted to give it a try. The Hub took the girls into the dark room armed with oversized vests and laser guns. Our younger daughter clung to The Hub's leg and screamed. Our older daughter became disoriented and got lost behind a neon painted partition and cried for her daddy. He was so distracted with finding his kids, he was unable to ward off the crowd of seven year olds shooting laser beams at the target on his vest. If the laser tag debacle is any indication of how our kids will handle a battle with zombies, bite me... it's over.


So while it's fun to daydream about surviving a zombie apocalypse and believing we are smart enough, strong enough, and brave enough to outlive the masses, I really hope it doesn't happen. But, if it does, I hope it doesn't happen for at least another ten years. The kids should be ready by then.

Week without Mommy? I Got This. (The Hub's Guest Blog)

Last week, I was away on business in Philadelphia. This was the first time I was away from my family for more than a night. A couple of years ago, The Hub was out of town on a work assignment for a month, so I know how challenging it is to suddenly become a temporary "single parent." Before I left, I made sure the house was in order and I laid out the girls' clothes for school for the week... just to make it a little easier in the mornings for him. We talked every night and The Hub would tell me the highlights of each day...all were good and reassuring. I can honestly say, I did not doubt his ability to go it alone for the week... and I was right to be so confident. I came home to find the house still standing, the kids were not sold on the black market, S did her homework, and B left the house with her pants on everyday.

Later, I learned that there were a few moments of complete chaos and rule bending that The Hub left out of our phone conversations... He didn't want me to worry. I asked him to write about his week alone with our kids. Enjoy!!

***

Getting Ready in the Morning

Two bathrooms plus three people, T-minus twenty minutes until the bus arrives. The math did not work that morning.

B: I wanna wear my Tinkerbell nightgown to school.
Me: Sure. Why not?
B: YAY!

B's Daycare Teacher: B's hair is full of static! It's standing straight up!
(I walk over to the sink, wet my hands, and slick back her hair.)
Me: TA-DA!
B's Daycare Teacher: When does your wife come back?

B: Daddy, you need to put a ponytail in my hair.



TA-DA!



 Working from Home

 

(I'm on an important business call with a client.)

Me: Yes. I'll get that proposal to you in 10 minutes.
B: (Walks into the room with pants around her ankles) Daddy!! Can you wipe my butt?!
Me: Make that 20.

S: Daddy! I spilled my drink!
Me: I'm sending out an email right now. Just put a paper towel on it and I'll clean it up in a minute.
(She used my work notes.)

Making Dinner

Me: What do you want me to cook for dinner tonight?
S: Happy China.
B: McDonalds.
Me: Okay.
The Kids: YAY!

Me: I'm ordering pizza tonight.
Kids: YAY! You're the best cook ever!!

The Bedtime Routine

The Kids: Daddy, we need to take baths tonight.

Me: (Give each kid a sniff check.) Nah, you're good.
The Kids: YAY!!

 (30 Minutes past bedtime and the kids are still goofing off in their room.)
Me: You better go to sleep or I'll call your mother and tell her to stay in Philadelphia FOR-EV-ER!

The Kids: Complete silence for the rest of the night.

I got this.

 

Crying Wolf

I've been a mother for over seven years, but I still don't really know my kids' cries. People say that when you become a parent, you'll learn that your child has different cries: A tired cry, a hungry cry, a sad cry, a fussy cry, a scared cry, a dirty diaper cry, a bored cry, a pain cry... the list goes on. When S was born, we jumped at every noise. If she sighed a little differently while sleeping at night, The Hub and I hovered over her and watched her chest rise and fall, just in case that particular sigh was her last breath. Morbid, I know. But, these are the scary thoughts that plague the minds of new parents. With time, you're supposed to figure out the different types of cries. Each baby is different and each baby produces unique sounds. I'm here to report that it's not always that easy. Somehow, I failed to acquire the ear for cries.

S would cry everyday about something. She would cry if she woke up too early or too late. She would cry if she didn't like the meal we served her. She would cry if someone looked at her too long. She would cry at the end of her favorite cartoon. She would cry at bath time and bedtime. It was like living with a toddler with PMS. I'll admit, I'm an emotional person, but even in my lifetime, I've never cried as much as she did those first three years. During one especially emotional month, I asked her pediatrician if she needed Prozac. He assured me it was "just a phase and she'd grow out of it." He was right. Around the age of four, S stopped crying everyday. 

The problem now is that her cries are inconsistent with the cause of the cry. If she has a serious crash on her bike, she might shed a few quiet tears. If we turn off her cartoons, S will reenact Sally Field's cemetery break down from Steel Magnolias. I just can't judge the severity of the problem based on her reaction. Recently, S was running down the hall with our dog, Bailey. Bailey is a 65 pound pitbull who truly believes she is a little lap dog. 

Me: Stop running down the hall, S.
S: Bailey and I are playing chase and having fun. I'll be careful.
Me: Seriously, stop running. You'll get hurt.
S: I won't get hurt, mom. We're just playing.
Me: Fine. Don't come crying to me when you do!

BAM! 

S: (calmly) Mommy? I fell down and hit my face.
Me: See?! Told you so. Go sit down.

S was really quiet and I started to feel bad for not checking on her. So after a few minutes of gloating in my mommy wisdom, I checked on S. It turns out that Bailey suddenly turned in front of S mid run and tripped S. S fell forward and smacked her face against the door frame. The few minutes I left her alone on the couch, a goose egg bump formed on her cheek and within a few hours, she had a dark purple bruise that covered her eye and half her face. S barely cried.

My younger daughter, B, (age 3 1/2) has one cry. On a scale from one to ten, it's an eleven. It doesn't matter if she's a little moody or seriously injured, her default cry is that of a wild animal being skinned alive. She will tilt her head back, close her eyes, open her mouth, and wail. I believe she is part banshee or we have a Death Metal frontman somewhere in our blood line. It's a blood-curdling noise and will turn your hair white. No joke. I really should buy stock in Nice and Easy 118 Natural Medium Brown. 

Basically, B "cries wolf." Every "bad" situation is an emergency. Every moment of discomfort or pain is of epic proportions. It's go big or go home. I can only hope that B will turn off the daily waterworks around her fourth birthday. 

That is why I can't figure out my kids' cries. Or screams, for that matter. When they are playing in the other room, I'll hear some serious shrieks and a desperate call for MAMA! I'll jump up and run to the room, half expecting to see blood or an exposed bone. 

Me: WHAT? WHAT IS WRONG?!
Kids: Oh Hi, mommy!
Me: What is going on? Why did you yell for me like that?
B: We're playing Monster Attack and S is the mommy* and I'm the baby and S is trying to save me from the monster.
S: Yeah, mom. Why are you so upset? We're playing nicely like you told us to.

*Due to the high frequency of confusing a cry for the pretend mom with a call requesting me, I added Rule #264:

Whereas, We have taken into Our Royal Consideration the need for active imaginations and play to further our offspring's overall development, let it be known from this day forward, all imaginary maternal guardians will be addressed as "Mother." Her Majesty The Queen of the Household (your real mother), shall only acknowledge and respond to "Mommy, Mom, Mama, Ma." Any person in violation of said rule will be hung from their toes and given cold oatmeal for breakfast.

In order to make sense of my kids' cries and screams, I have devised this chart which shows the appropriate cry/scream for any given situation. Before anyone decides to have an emotional reaction, they must first refer to this chart and adjust their intensity accordingly.

There better be a Honey Badger in that room or you're all in big trouble!
(Click on chart to enlarge)

I know that once the kids become more proficient with the English language and learn to better articulate their feelings, I will be able to decipher their needs with ease and accuracy. I encourage the girls to "use their words" and calm down when trying to explain what happened to make them so upset. It takes time and patience... something that I still work on everyday. I have learned to not react to every cry and scream right away. Unless I hear glass breaking, smell smoke, or worse, complete silence, most times, my kids are okay. We have health insurance so when the inevitable trip to the ER happens, we're covered. Like their bodies, they are growing into their emotions. I try to remember what my pediatrician said whenever our household is in the midst of emotional chaos: It's just a phase and they'll grow out of it.

... Until they become teenagers.

Photo Credits from Chart

1. cryface.tumblr.com

2. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/98/Oww_Papercut_14365.jpg/230px-Oww_Papercut_14365.jpg

3. http://freefunnyshit.com/viewcaption.php?caption_id=249&type=full

4. aboutus.lego.com

5. http://i3.ytimg.com/vi/R7C-feQm6GM/hqdefault.jpg

6.  http://ivn.us/editors-blog/files/2012/05/honey-badger.jpeg

Giving Thanks

I was the first one to wake up on this cold Thursday morning, Thanksgiving Day. I am thankful for a quiet morning. I set up the coffee maker and fed Bailey. I am thankful that this dog is healthy and does not like to eat socks. I let Bailey outside and noticed all the cars parked in my neighbors' driveways. I am thankful that I don't have to cook today and that I love my in-laws who invited us to their Thanksgiving dinner. I stepped on a toy in the living room. I am thankful that no one is visiting our house so it doesn't matter what it looks like today. I am also thankful that I stepped on a soft toy and not a Leggo.

My daughters wake up. Within minutes, they are arguing over cartoons and who gets the warm blanket this time. I am thankful that my kids don't know many struggles beyond sibling disagreements. I am thankful that they are allowed to be children. There are too many children who have to deal with scary, painful, heavy, lonely situations that force them to grow up fast and become hard.

My kids: What do we do on Thanksgiving?

Me: Well, we make a big feast and spend time together as a family and be thankful for everythi...
My Kids: So we just eat all day?!

I am thankful that we will just eat all day. 

Me: Why don't you make a list of all the things for which you are thankful...

S (age: almost 7) is thankful for:

Mom
Dad
Food
B, my sister
Puppies
Santa Claus
The ocean
America
Sunshine
The Earth
Technology
Love
Water
Friends
Heros
Ukuleles
Rainbows
Books
My grandparents
My aunts and uncles
My cousins
Bees
Mrs. Stuffy (her stuffed bear)

B (age: 3 1/2) is thankful for:

Green lollipops
Popcorn
Playing Mario Bros. on the old Nintendo with S
Bailey
My sister
My blue blankie that S can't have
Water to drink
Playing pre-school games on the computer
That I get to go to school soon
Balloons... Can I have a balloon, mama? I really want a balloon!

I am thankful for my funny kids. I have no idea why S is thankful for a ukulele...

The Hub is thankful for:

Healthy family

A wonderful (super hot) wife(!)

My freakin' job
Local breweries
My garden
Thai food

That UGA is ranked #3 at the moment and has a chance to play in the BCS championship game for the first time since 1980. GO DAWGS!

I am also thankful for:

The Hub (my super hot best friend)
The kids
My parents
My extended family and friends
My ability to laugh and make others laugh
Strong coffee
Under eye concealer
Beer
Yoga pants
For always having a story to tell
New adventures

Happy Thanksgiving to you all! I am thankful that you read my blog!

I am thankful for my little sisters!
... and my keen fashion sense.
Photo credit: Edward Pauksta 11/1984

Lies I Tell My Kids

This past Sunday, The Hub was off working a side job with his dad. The girls and I were bumming around the house. I usually don't do any housework on the weekends, but since The Hub wasn't home, it really didn't feel like much of a weekend. In fact, it felt more like a Monday, but with an extra kid to entertain. I decided to get a jump on the next week's chores and vacuum the carpet. My kids like to pretend that the vacuum cleaner is a scary monster out to get them. Most days, I play along and chase after them yelling, "Get on the couch before you get sucked up!" This time, I wasn't in the mood to run around. My eldest daughter, S, wasn't either. She was reading a book and was pretty annoyed by the noise. However, my youngest daughter, B, is always ready to run around and scream, so when I plugged in the vacuum, she was already standing on the couch and preparing to battle the vacuum monster.

As I made my way around the room, B was running back and forth between the living room couch and the foyer. It's too complicated to set up exactly how "what happened next" happened without pictures and video replay, so I'll just give you the Reader's Digest version. Basically, B tripped and landed face first into the foyer tile floor. The impact was so great that her head actually bounced back and slammed into the floor a second time. I've heard that people will swear that time slows down when they witness something horrific. I tell you now, it actually happens. It was the longest half second of my life and I couldn't do anything except stand there and watch. 

B jumped up, cupped her mouth with her little hand and screamed. I ran over, picked her up, and pulled her hand away from her face. Blood. Blood everywhere. 

Like this, only with a little more blood.

I am a firm believer that things that reside on the inside of the body should stay inside the body. Blood needs to stay inside the body. When I saw it gushing from my daughter's face, I felt a little faint. Okay. A lot faint. I fell back onto the couch with B still in my arms. S, was already buzzing around asking a ton of questions about what just happened. Fighting the urge to completely black out, I quietly asked S to grab a wash cloth and run it under some cold water. B is wailing now because she sees her own blood pooling in her hand. S returned with a wet wash cloth in record time. She was so fast that I actually took a second to praise her for following directions and moving with such speed. Right before I started wiping the blood off my little girl's face, I took a deep breath and said with a smile, "It's okay, baby. I promise. Everything is okay." I just lied to my daughter. I had no idea how bad her injuries were and I doubted my ability to maintain my composure if her injuries were really gruesome.

Once I determined the blood was not coming from her nose, I moved to her lips. They were extremely swollen but they were not cut. Oh shit. It's her mouth. Keep in mind, B is still screaming at the top of her lungs. I gently pull back her top lip. I don't see her top two teeth. I see a lot of blood, but no teeth. Oh. My. God! Wait! Wait! Nope, they're still there. They were just covered with blood. Turns out that B bit the inside of her upper lip with her two top teeth. It was a pretty gnarly gash, but not bad enough for stitches. Her teeth were a little wiggly, but not enough to warrant a trip to the dentist. Her top lip swelled to Angelina Jolie proportions. It took about an hour and two icy pops to stop the bleeding and the crying, but B was fine. I didn't have to make an emergency room visit, no stitches needed, and no teeth in a cup of milk. It really was okay, just as I promised. My lie ceased to be a lie and I was relieved.

After I came down from my adrenaline rush, I thought about how I told my bloody kid that everything was okay. I didn't know that it was. For all I knew, it wasn't okay and I was terrified that she did some major damage to her grill. I lied to keep her calm. I needed her to stay still and let me poke around a very sensitive wound. Freaking her out with the truth would have made the situation that much worse. They say, "A lie is a lie." Fine. I lied to my kid. Even when I tell them not to tell lies, I told a lie. In fact, I tell them lies all the time. Truthfully? I don't feel bad about it one bit. I can justify each lie...

Lies I tell my kids to keep them safe and healthy:

• "Broccoli makes your hair grow super long and super fast!" Actually, any food they don't want to eat at the time can work here. You would be amazed how many foods have super hair growth properties. I even go as far as to "measure" their hair before and after dinner, just to prove my point.
• "The Tooth Fairy does not pay full price for rotten teeth!" If the Tooth Fairy has to shell out money to get those baby teeth filled, she does not shell out quarters for those teeth when they fall out. I'm not above scaring my kids into brushing their teeth.
• "The ice cream truck driver is actually a monster in disguise trying to catch kids and eat them." I save money and the kids don't beg for ice cream treats when that creepy old van covered in faded Good Humor stickers drives down our street. 

 RUN KIDS! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Lies I tell my kids to keep the peace:

• "Yes, I'd love to read Elmo Saves Christmas to you again!" ... for the twentieth time... in July.
• "Marathon of Dora the Explorer? Count me in!" I didn't want to watch The View anyway.
• "No, monsters don't live in your closet. Go to sleep!" Of course, this is a big ol' fat lie. Monsters do live in closets and under the bed and in the basement and the attic and the toilet... See: My Dark Secret
• "No. Sorry! I don't have any gum." Yes, I do. But, it's my last piece and your sister will want one, too. I also don't want to cut gum out of your hair later.
• "I just got a text from Santa Claus. It says, 'I am watching you fight with your sister. I am not pleased.'" This lie takes a bit of planning, but as long as both kids still believe in Santa, I'm using it. I replace The Hub's caller ID picture on my phone with a picture of Santa. All I have to do is let The Hub know that the kids are misbehaving and he sends a text to my phone. 100% satisfaction guaranteed! 

Santa just sent me ANOTHER text...
He says he saw you pick your nose and he wants you to stop.
It's gross.

Lies I tell my kids to encourage them:

• "You did a beautiful job on my nails!"

I have my own personal manicurist. Jealous?

• "I can't believe you beat me in Candyland again!" I only let them win until they start the first grade. After that, it's official rules only. I don't want them to believe (1) They will win every game and (2) that I really suck that much at Candyland. 
• "Oh honey, this picture looks just like me! It's beautiful!"

S drew this portrait of me for "Muffins With Mom" day in Pre-K. (Spring/2011)
There are so many bits of awesome in this picture.

I know there are people out there who will argue that I am teaching my kids that it's okay to lie. Sure. Okay. I can accept that. I believe that white lies are part of living in polite society. For example: Let's say your favorite aunt gave you an ugly sweater for your birthday. Like most folks, you will say thank you and that it's a lovely sweater. But, you're either going to return the sweater, re-gift it, or only wear it when your dear ol' aunt comes around. You just lied. If you were honest and told your aunt that you have no intention of ever wearing that hideous piece of wool crap and that you worry about her fashion sense, you would most likely hurt her feelings. You would also look like a real jackass. I don't think every scribble put on paper is a masterpiece, but when my 3 year old daughter, B, shows me her latest attempt to draw a flower, (or is that a horse... oh, wait. I see it now... it's an airplane) I tell her I love her work and I'm proud of her for trying so hard. Then I tell her to keep practicing. I know that if I told B that she lacks artistic abilities (like her mother), she would stop trying. I would rather have a fridge full of flower-horse-airplanes then no art at all. 

I know that little lies may cause some serious damage. I know because my mother told me a terrible lie when I was a child that caused irrevocable trauma to my psyche.  One night, I was pushing my food around on the plate and sulking because, yet again, my mom was forcing me to choke down a giant mountain of peas. I really hated peas. When she realized that all her threats of going to bed hungry or not getting a dessert did not shake my will, she resorted to guilt (like any good Irish Catholic mother would do). 

"Terese, just take one little bite. Just one and then you can leave the table." 

Fine. Just one bite. That's it.

"Good girl. But, wait! You just ate the little kid pea. What about her mom and dad? They're still on the plate! You just made the little kid pea an orphan! You can't separate the family, Terese! Can you hear the mommy and daddy pea? They're saying, 'Oh no! Our daughter is gone! We're so sad!'"

Oh no! Okay, I'll eat the mommy and daddy pea, too.

"But, what about the grandparents?"

To this day, I have to eat every pea on my plate or I will feel extreme guilt for breaking up the family.

Well played, mom. Well played.

Consumer Letters from a Regular Mom

I am happy to introduce a new segment to my blog: Consumer Letters from a Regular Mom. Periodically, I will write letters to companies to offer suggestions on ways to improve their product. Moms make up the biggest consumer group so I believe companies should hear what we have to say about their products. Hope you enjoy!

***

Dear Tampon Manufacturers,

I have been a faithful customer for over two decades now. For the most part, I am happy with your product line and will continue my patronage for as long as my girly underneathy bits require your business. I have witnessed several product upgrades through the years. With 250+ purchases under my belt, I consider myself a bit of a tampon connoisseur. Long gone are the days of bulky packaging and pale pink wrappers stuffed in my purse. I appreciate your new sleek, aerodynamic designs. I can continue to carry my cute handbag instead of pulling out a rucksack to cart around my menstrual survival kit. Unfortunately, I have found a serious flaw in your latest packaging design. I am a mother of two young girls who have a bit of a sweet tooth. If I foolishly open my purse within their line of sight, I am bombarded with requests to share what they believe is candy. I think you've missed the mark on helping a gal keep her visit from Aunt Flo on the down-low. There is nothing discreet about my menses whilst out in public when my kid grabs a fun-sized tampon from my bag and waves it around begging if she could please, please, please have a candy bar! I am already one step away from a hormonal murderous outburst and now I have to try to explain to my 3 year old that she doesn't want "mommy's candy." You are not helping me "Have a Happy Period." Might I suggest a new design? Perhaps you can consult the Navy Seals and work together on a wrapper design that is a little more covert or camouflaged, if you will. Take a survey of 2 to 4 year olds and research what they don't like. Work with moms, not against them.

 I took it upon myself to come up with a few prototypes:

You can call them Mompons. Genius, no?

Thank you for your time and consideration with this matter. I look forward to collaborating with you on your next line of feminine care products.

Sincerely,

A Menstrual Mom

I got a Liebster Award!! What does that even mean?!

This week's blog is going to be a little different. Yesterday, I received a lovely surprise. My darling blogger pal, The Ginger BlogMan nominated me for the Liebster Award! 

Isn't it wonderful?!?!?

I got an award! I can't believe it! I am so happy! Wait... what is a Liebster Award? I had to google it and here is what I found: 

The Liebster Award's origins are a bit of a mystery. Bloggers nominate other bloggers that have 200 or less followers. It's basically a "Hey, that's a sweet little blog you've got there. Here's an award!" You can't just accept the award. You have to play by the (ever changing) rules and pay it forward. Then you can put the award on your blog for all to see. Pretty sweet, no?

So here are the rules:

1. The nominee must list 11 fun facts about him or herself.
2. Answer the 11 questions the person giving the award has set for you.
3. Create 11 questions for your new nominees.
4. Nominate 11 new bloggers and send them a link to your post.

It's like a chain letter but without all the hexes if you don't play along. 

So let's begin.

11 Super Interesting Facts about Yours Truly:

1. I do not like chatting on the phone. I can't focus on the conversation with my monkey kids running around and making noise. There is a 95% chance I won't answer your call. It's not you, it's me.
2. I am a sensitive gal. I have lots of feelings. I cry at sentimental car commercials. I'm a hot mess around the holidays. I have never seen "The Notebook" because if normal people bawl their eyes out when watching this movie, I'd be on placed on suicide watch.
3. I wish I had a British accent. I think I could pull it off. Hell, if Madonna can do it, why can't I?
4. A good back rub or hair brushing is the fastest way to my heart. I'm convinced that I was a big, fluffy Persian cat in a previous life.
5. I have freakishly large hands and long fingers for a girl. My hands are bigger than the 6'3 Hub's hands. I'm only 5'6.
6. I have a superhuman sense of smell.
7. I can always find Waldo. 
8. I once wiped a baby squirrel's butt.
9. I don't like to eat meat off the bone. Biology classes ruined it for me.
10. Cockroaches are the most terrifying thing ever. If I see one, I will run away.
11. Oh hell, she's getting all sensitive here... I love blogging. When I graduated from college with a BA in Creative Writing, I believed I would be the next bestselling fiction author. After years of none of that happening, I finally discovered the incredible joy of telling my true life stories. I love writing them down. I love sharing them with you. I get a real kick when you take the time to comment on my blog. I am grateful for every page view, every share, every like, every retweet. The blog community is enormous and ever growing, but getting this award makes me feel like I am really part of it now. It's like moving up from eating lunch in the high school bathroom stall to getting a seat at a table in the cafeteria. 

My 11 questions to answer from The Ginger BlogMan:

1. What is your preferred method of birth control? A long day of running after my kids seems to do the trick. (You dirty little monkey!)
2.  If you could have any super power what would it be and why? I would want the ability to clone or replicate myself. My clones would do all the laborious household tasks while I sat in a lounge chair and drank margaritas. 
3. What is your favourite music album of all time? "Under the Table and Dreaming" by Dave Matthews Band. 
4. Do redheads have souls? Yes... I'm *almost* sure of it. 
5. If you were on death-row (I'm sorry about this) what would you order as your last meal? They don't offer custom ordered last meals in the States due to extravagant requests, but if that were still an option, I would order lobster bisque, biscuits smothered in sausage gravy, hot Irish Soda bread with tons of butter, a case of the Sam Adams Autumn brew collection, a plate of sushi, and a mint Kondike ice cream bar... because whatever I did to get on death row was probably for a Kondike Bar. 
6. PC or Mac? Mac, baby! 
7. Who is the most influential person in your life and why? I have many influential people in my life but I'd have to say at this point, it's a "what," not a "who." Right now, there's a pair of pre-baby jeans in my closet influencing me to avoid everything on my death-row last meal list. 
8. What is your favorite cartoon as an adult? Phineas and Ferb. Because of them, I now know the tip of a shoelace is called an "aglet." 
9. Do you have any regrets? I regret all those years of trying to be "normal" and fit in with the crowd. I also regret that third cup of coffee this morning. I swear my eyes are vibrating.
10.  Would you like to own a monkey butler (assuming no animal rights were violated, leave me be PETA)? Why do you think I had kids? They usually don't shed and they're housebroken. Finally. 
11. How do you feel right now? Like Sally Field winning an Oscar.

You like me! You really like me!

My Super Awesome Questions for the Next Nominees:

1. Why did you start a blog?
2. How would you describe yourself in a personal ad in the paper?
3. Do you have an unusual talent?
4. What was your best Halloween costume ever?
5. What is your biggest pet peeve?
6. What is your astrological sign? Is it true what they say?
7. What scares the hell out of you?
8. What was your worst injury as a child?
9. What is your favorite smell?
10. What is your least favorite movie genre?
11. Why is a raven like a writing desk?

And The Liebster Award Goes To: (In alphabetical order)**

1. Dipso Facto Scapegoat Ink  http://blog1.scapegoatink.com
2. Do I Have To? http://mikecoon.blogspot.com/
3. Father In Training http://fatherintraining.com
4. Goodrow Gang http://goodrowgang.blogspot.com
5. Hand Make My Life http://www/handmakemylife.com
6. Herding Cats http://phoebeholmes.com
7. Karen's Blog http://karenbettyroberts.blogspot.com
8. Life, Darling http://lifedarling.com
9. Our Journey http://carrie-ourjourney.blogspot.com
10. Princess and the Pi http://princessandthepi.blogspot.com/
11. The Poopy Scoop  http://thatsthepoopyscoop.blogspot.com

**This was the hard part of the rules. The award is supposed to go to blogger with less than 200 followers but, on many of these, the followers were not shown or I just couldn't find your count. So I guessed. Like I said before, the rules are ever changing. It used to be 5 people and 5 questions. Now it is up to 11. Next year, I'm sure it'll be more. Basically, I nominated your blog because I really enjoy your stories and I wanted to share this lovely award with you. Yay us!!! 

Be Happy, Dammit!

I'm a big fan of expressing one's feelings, no matter if they are happy, sad, mad, or scared. I think it is healthy to let it out. People need to belly laugh and sob. Nothing gets the blood flowing like a good horror movie induced scream. I believe that a tantrum can decompress a person. (See: Mommy Tantrums) However, if you are in a funk for too long, you start to become a real grump. You complain a lot. You cry a lot. You yell a lot. You lean to the negative. People generally don't like to be around cranky people. They'll pat you on the back and say, "Cheer up, buttercup," but, eventually they'll find ways to avoid you in the office break room or ignore your phone calls. People will stop trying to console you. People will start complaining about your constant complaining. Nobody likes a sad sack.

So, what is a gloomy Gus to do? For those suffering from the case of the blues (not to be confused with real depression... consult a professional, please) and are ready to switch things up a little, I have found that making yourself be happy can help lift your spirits. I have prepared a list of time honored ways to make you happy whenever you are sad. Of course, by now you know that I'm not going to tell you to smell the roses or pet a cat. Don't get me wrong, those are fine examples if you're into that kind of stuff. I prefer the sillier side of life and rely on laughter to get me through the rough times.


Smile Like an Ass

When was the last time you smiled? Give it a go. Does your face hurt a little? When you stop smiling, does your mouth immediately sink back into a frown? If you answered yes, then you need to make yourself smile. Simply smile. Put a huge grin on your face and leave it there. Then relax your furrowed brow and show some teeth. Keep your face in that position. Who cares if the people around you think you've gone mad? Give them the biggest Cheshire Cat grin possible. This works three fold: One, you're smiling. Two, you're working out your face muscles and it won't feel so unnatural the next time you smile. Three, if you are around someone who is causing your bad mood, your creepy smile might make them slowly back away from you. Triple win in my book.

Look how happy he is!
Photo credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shining_(film)

Embrace Your Inner Morgan Freeman (or Mike Rowe)

The Hub and I can fill a whole day with laughter by pretending we are narrating someone or something's life. Watch your family pet. Narrate their every move. Narrate what they might be dreaming about while they sleep. Ever wonder what they are thinking when they seem to be staring into your soul? Speak for them. Use a funny voice. Use a normal voice. Think through your pet. It gets really funny when they are grooming themselves. This can also work with your kids, the next door neighbor, that lady walking down the street in spandex, the lobsters in the grocery store tanks, or the ants scurrying out of a kicked-over hill. The world is your personal Discovery Channel show.

I quoted them verbatim. 

Make Fun of Something

You know what makes me happy? Making fun of a Tyrannosaurus rex. The guy was so unbelievably huge. He had long sharp teeth. He could crush you with his foot. The T-rex was a very scary animal. Unfortunately, the T-rex couldn't give high fives. He could not play patty cake. He could not flip pancakes. He could not tie his own shoes. He couldn't open his own beer. The list goes on and on. Oh, don't worry about hurting his feelings. He's dead.

Photo credit: http://thazing.com/t-rex-love/

Dance Your Cares Away

Break out your favorite tunes and dance. Now is the time to finally learn how to do The Worm. Hone your booty gyrating skills. Go out to the parking lot and do your best Tawny Kitaen cartwheel on your car. Let the music move you and vogue. Don't be a wallflower. Warning: If you choose to dance in front of your kids, they will most definitely call you out on your busted moves. Don't let them harsh your happy. Their generation's most popular move is called "The Dougie." Whatever. We had "The Carlton." 

I am such a bad dancer. I can't even do "The Carlton." No lie.
Photo credit: http://www.divawhispers.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/carlton-dance.jpg

Be Stupid Excited About Everything

This started out as a way to trick my kids into doing their chores. I would raise the pitch of my voice, jump up and down, and say, "Yay! It's time to set the table!" "I'm so excited! Who wants to dust?!" "I know a super awesome game! Let's sort the laundry!" Just by making the request sound like the most exciting activity ever, the kids' faces light up and they do whatever they had to do with gusto. It was so effective, I decided to try it with other mundane aspects of life. "Hurray! It's leftover night!" "I'm so excited that it's Monday!" "I just paid all my bills! Yay for me!!" Just by making it seem great, you can trick yourself into thinking it is great. If you do it enough, it becomes second nature. You'll notice that it's easy to get excited about the little things because, as you all know, it's the little things that count.

"I'm freaking excited!"
Photo credit: http://dannijo.tumblr.com/post/7886225512/even-though-im-clearly-not-eligible-for-the

When In Doubt, "Fart" It Out

Who doesn't giggle at the sound of flatulence? The Hub has the amazing ability to emulate any fart noise. Whenever I'm in a foul mood, he'll try to make me laugh by making fart noises using his hands or mouth. If the kids are cranky, he'll blow raspberries on their bellies. He'll wait until I bend over to pick something up and I'll hear a 'toot' sound come from behind me. The sound of 'breaking wind' is a silly way to break the tension. My sister, Aunt D, has requested a recording of his musical stylings so she can get an instant laugh whenever she needs one. Her next birthday present? Check.

Photo Credit: http://cheezburger.com/4787042048

Laugh At Yourself

Did you just trip over your own feet in public? Discover too late that you tucked your skirt into your underpants? Spill your hot coffee in your lap while stuck in traffic? Before you get mad or embarrassed, step back and try to imagine what you looked like to someone else. Chances are whatever just happened to you was freaking hilarious to anyone lucky enough to witness it. Why let them have all the fun? Laugh at yourself. It was funny. I bet you've spent hours on YouTube laughing at videos of other people and/or animals falling down. You watch comedies to laugh at how someone else deals with embarrassing situations. Everyone does funny things. Enjoy the fact that you just made someone laugh (and thankful they didn't do what you just did). During my wedding ceremony, I tripped on the long skirt of my strapless wedding dress and almost exposed myself to the entire wedding party. My sister, Aunt J, literally guffawed at what she just witnessed. Yeah, it was embarrassing but her laugh at that moment is one of my favorite memories from that day. Sometimes making someone else laugh will get your giggles going too. 

Photo Credit: http://www.worth1000.com/entries/557507/tripping-on-marriage

I'm sure it seems like I have the mentality of a 9 year old boy when I tell you to make funny faces and fart noises to get happy. Sure, I'll be the first to admit that I am a goof ball, but really, all I did was give you real life applications to the age old advice on achieving happiness. People tell you to "put on a happy face" (smile like an ass), or "exercise will improve your mood" (dance), "laughter is the best medicine" (Fart noises, making fun of T-rexes, laughing at yourself), and "fake it until you make it" (be excited about everything). See what I did there?

Photo Credit: http://iseewhatyoudid.com/owl-sees-everything/

I read somewhere that "finding your inner child" and remembering what made you happy when you were young will bring joy to your life when you're stuck in the serious adult world. How do you find that inner child? You go outside and do cartwheels in the front yard. You make silly faces. You laugh at "inappropriate" things. You get excited about the little things. You act like a clown in front of others. Kids know how to be happy. Basically, we have to manifest our own happiness. Yes, adult life is hard. There are times when absolutely everything is going wrong and it seems you can't catch a break. There will be times when you won't be in a good place in your life no matter how hard you try to correct the situation. But, if you let it consume you and bring you down, it makes the whole situation that much worse. Your spirit needs some joy and even if you laugh just a little bit, you might catch a glimpse of the good that's still around you. I tell my kids that it is good to feel angry and sad but don't let it be who you are all the time. Lately, I've had to listen to my own advice and try to refill my cup of joy. The best part is that by making myself happy, I've made my loved ones feel happy as well. My problems are still here and I still have to deal with them. But, I know when I look back, the memories of laughing until it hurts will overshadow the memories of sadness. Isn't that what it's all about?