tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42544609790130923462024-03-13T04:09:36.370-04:00Crap No One Tells YouAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05917565137024044162noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-16182478802366655332013-09-30T22:41:00.007-04:002013-09-30T22:41:57.656-04:00Looking Back on Crap ... Airplane Travel<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This was the first blog I wrote. It's amazing looking back how much of my inspiration came from the crappy stuff!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://crapnoonetellsyou.blogspot.com/2012/10/about-airplane-travel-with-baby.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Airplane Travel with a Baby</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-28032217208320660012013-09-30T22:30:00.003-04:002013-09-30T22:30:55.068-04:00Nearing my 1-Year-Anniversary of Blogging<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, one week from today is my 1-year-anniversary of blogging. You may have noticed I've been MIA lately. I have had to put my writing aside for a while to get my house ready to sell, sell my house, and look for a new house (no luck there). And, let's not forget pack my house with three children 5 and under climbing in boxes, crying over toys I have thrown in a yard sale pile, and finding any chance to sneak my box marker and write on walls, furniture, and self. Anyway, it's all exciting stuff, and I am looking forward to one day being settled enough to sneak in a blog here and there. But, for now, "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit." And, in honor of my anniversary, I am going to repost my most popular blogs from the last year each day for the next week. If you joined me in the last 3 months, then many of these will be new to you, so just pretend I'm doing awesome this week!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-28333349660056938932013-09-09T21:09:00.002-04:002013-09-09T21:14:02.332-04:00Best Damn Birthday Present!<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Soooo ... it's my birthday, and I have a friend who "gets it." She gave me the perfect gift today ... the Dammit Doll. I will keep it in the garage (or, on my husband's pillow when he's in the doghouse). The garage is where I go when I need to blow off some steam and find my head before serious disciplinary action is about to occur. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0A7ImQKP-5MiYe2eya4hprAJwxjmmZ4qpo0IUvtDrV8oK5577q9e_ym4fJcBCx-gz_vwKJSZxyaoM6BUde9u3vx1yac00HdA2DiM-YW7Sa4U0XuYeiCKANFhUmkMHyYyXfDznkZ5Amrq/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0A7ImQKP-5MiYe2eya4hprAJwxjmmZ4qpo0IUvtDrV8oK5577q9e_ym4fJcBCx-gz_vwKJSZxyaoM6BUde9u3vx1yac00HdA2DiM-YW7Sa4U0XuYeiCKANFhUmkMHyYyXfDznkZ5Amrq/s400/001.JPG" width="263" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you haven't seen this doll, here is what it says on the chest:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Whenever things don't go so well,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">and you want to hit the wall and yell,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">here's a little Dammit Doll,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">that you can't do without.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Just grasp it firmly by the legs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">and find a place to slam it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And as you whack the stuffing out</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">yell, 'Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!'"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">#dammitdolls</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-35779841812202236192013-08-09T17:46:00.006-04:002013-08-09T17:46:56.955-04:00Oh, I'm Napping<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It starts with a mid-week outing with girlfriends to a local
wine bar for a sparkling wine tasting. Okay, what is the next day going to look
like for this stay-at-home mom so that she can take a nap in the afternoon?
Pool … yes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The sun and two full hours of pool play should be enough to
drain their batteries. We even eat lunch at the pool so I don’t have to clean
the kitchen. On the drive home, three sets of eyelids looking heavy in my
rear-view mirror. So far, so good. I have set myself up beautifully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We get home, and I top off the baby’s tummy with another 8
ounces of milk. He’s got his lovey, his fan, and his darkening curtains. He
goes down without a peep. The 4-year-olds are weary and don’t fight me when I
send them to quiet time. I tell them I will get them after an hour and to stay
in their rooms until I come in. No doubt in my mind they will sleep today.
Done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I clear off the three loads of unfolded laundry from the top
of my bed. It can wait … again … probably until we wear all of those clothes.
My sheets on my unmade bed are cool. The air conditioning is on a comfortable
74 degrees. My pillow is fluffed and ready to welcome my chlorine and
sunscreen-soaked head. The ceiling fan is on low. My cell phone is off. Hello,
nap. How I have longed for you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It only took about 20 minutes and some meditation and deep
breaths to get rid of the anxiety of what I SHOULD be doing before I settled
into sleep deep enough to drag some bodily fluids down the side of my face. Why
do I drool when I nap? Does anyone else do this? Only during a nap … not at
night. Weird. Anyway, I’m pretty sure I even started to dream, when …<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0whE03Dk_ZEeaCUuNuacEsyd7ybO3KavDM_u8n7tNqAYWOr9Gcaju32oHtXVP719tSNGtjDC_rmcuKWYPSpBnER1vcdHuw-57vdMlpkhu240t66cK3flWaasMQ_bFiENCzhgeIsGlRLO/s1600/nap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0whE03Dk_ZEeaCUuNuacEsyd7ybO3KavDM_u8n7tNqAYWOr9Gcaju32oHtXVP719tSNGtjDC_rmcuKWYPSpBnER1vcdHuw-57vdMlpkhu240t66cK3flWaasMQ_bFiENCzhgeIsGlRLO/s320/nap.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Mama … Mama … Mama,” like the beeping of the most annoying
alarm clock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Maybe if I ignore him he will go back to sleep. It’s only
been 30 minutes, for God’s sake!” I think.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Mama … Mama … Mama.” Then, a couple minutes later, “Dada …
Dada … Dada.” Then out of utter desperation, “Puh Puh … Puh Puh … Puh Puh
(Capri).” Then a couple minutes later, “Wuh buh … Wuh buh … Wuh buh (Weber).” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There’s still a chance, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Guh guh (Gracie, the dog)!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Damn, you, Murphy’s Law!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For Daily Doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-35724132800276248452013-08-06T08:59:00.000-04:002013-08-06T08:59:35.668-04:00Don't Ask a Mom of Multiples ...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-yGJnmWPOQWnOw736PjYyQTejNOXHXoAnY3l9OctUu2nk3uCYLz4hJqF2det29ptrU9ocYDHYtXheAnSXkPD5Q8daH0EcC1b7ieyFpJlpxaei80C_NASsX7Uu7OauxbELctcwwXgRaoE_/s1600/twins.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-yGJnmWPOQWnOw736PjYyQTejNOXHXoAnY3l9OctUu2nk3uCYLz4hJqF2det29ptrU9ocYDHYtXheAnSXkPD5Q8daH0EcC1b7ieyFpJlpxaei80C_NASsX7Uu7OauxbELctcwwXgRaoE_/s400/twins.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-63616181001432157922013-08-02T14:45:00.003-04:002013-08-02T14:45:26.224-04:00Boy's Brain in a Midnight Potty Break
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<!--StartFragment--><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because I know you all enjoy the humor that is my boy twin ... Last
night, he got up to pee and his penis was stuck to his testicles. I said
something about it and his face lit up with the expression, "Sweet! I
don't have to push my penis down," and went hands-free. I gasp and tell
him he better hold on or it's going to break free and shoot him in his own
face. He didn't seem to care, just had the biggest grin I've ever seen in the
middle of the night. Boys.</span></span><!--EndFragment-->
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<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-65100472121591056212013-08-02T14:41:00.001-04:002013-08-02T14:41:23.380-04:00We Feed With Love
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In honor of World Breastfeeding Week, I'm putting myself out
there with this picture of me feeding my third-born shortly after his birth. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nXs0Rz5CkBXPLLNKsApYLYzSbRKVE2hxjTFEzi4J2ew8eCB7gcMVIxBtD9t4npvosMJuEpxirzV2kjhVAB2kD3FZg8KlkJ_lsDxEQhUBTaSrsFuYi3KplNl42Lzoitbgwo8azwpv45Lr/s1600/breastfeeding.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5nXs0Rz5CkBXPLLNKsApYLYzSbRKVE2hxjTFEzi4J2ew8eCB7gcMVIxBtD9t4npvosMJuEpxirzV2kjhVAB2kD3FZg8KlkJ_lsDxEQhUBTaSrsFuYi3KplNl42Lzoitbgwo8azwpv45Lr/s400/breastfeeding.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I experienced difficulty breastfeeding my twins, with
frustration of not producing enough for both, difficulty and pain getting one
of them to latch properly, and lack of time and help with completing other
tasks. I was breastfeeding one, bottle feeding the other, and pumping between
feedings in an attempt to increase my supply. But after four weeks, my mother
and mother-in-law had to leave and I gave up ... buried in frustration and
household chores. I made it five weeks with them until I gave into formula and
a better life for my family. I knew it was the right decision for us, but
couldn't help feel guilty when I would see a mother of 9-month-old twins
breastfeeding with the ease of chewing gum. My twins are healthy kids, rarely
sick, and intelligent. I had many opportunities to snuggle them and find
intimacy and closeness. I don't regret what I had to do--nor should anyone else
who chooses formula.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With my third, it was much easier. I produced enough--even
for the little piggy that he was. I enjoyed the intimacy with him. And, I had
peace of mind that I was doing the best thing for him that I possibly could. I
was also very fortunate to never feel judged for breastfeeding in public. It's
quite possible I just never paid attention to it. Or, maybe it's possible
people are beginning to accept this act as exactly what it is ... nourishing a
child ... period.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are many reasons why a mother would choose formula
over breastfeeding, or have no choice in the matter at all. No matter what
mothers choose for themselves and their babies, I think all mothers would agree
that everyone should support a breastfeeding mother just as breastfeeding
mothers should support a formula-feeding mother. Happy World Feeding Week ...
breast milk or formula, we feed with love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-62182276798399945542013-07-25T17:08:00.003-04:002013-07-25T17:18:26.664-04:00Duchess Parades More Than Her Tiny Prince<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’ll admit that I was anxiously awaiting the news of the
birth of England’s tiniest Prince. I wasn’t obsessed, but definitely was one of
those who checked the news feeds every few hours. Then, after the birth, I did
become a little obsessed with seeing the first pictures.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Though, while the couple and the baby were as beautiful as I
would expect, a couple of things disappointed me. First, was the baby’s weight.
I know you are thinking, “8 pounds, 6 ounces … that’s a healthy weight.” Yes,
but he is a prince. For some reason I wanted to hear something a little more dramatic.
Maybe I expected an announcement something like:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“The
Prince has arrived at a whopping 14 pounds, 15 ounces, and has already taken
his first steps and uttered his first word … ‘Mum.’”</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yea, okay. I guess it’s slightly refreshing that he is as
normal as any other newborn … I guess.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What’s also refreshing is seeing how Prince William and Kate
are going to be as normal as any other parent. I did see the picture of the
baby in the car seat, and yes, it’s a little shocking that they didn’t have the
baby secured properly. But, I’m sure after the billions of comments by mothers
all over the world, the message has made its way back to them. I sure remember the
frustration with those car seats the first time we left the hospital … and we
didn’t have thousands of onlookers as we struggled. Apparently the normalcy is
also that there is never anyone to help … just the 80-year-old volunteer who
can barely push the wheelchair to the curb. Or, in their case, some security
detail, who is more concerned with keeping them from being attacked or mauled
by paparazzi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAF7MJo_A5Dw0t4y_2KQpSp3gxfE9dwN8LR6mnroCpFTT_iMCbhOK5NWLEDiPhyphenhyphenXQSmjTck1DP4B5f8n4Yv8iASueOXzoTcp0nVl3Vx-NZVgs9pSjf1q0VGwcBwJ0bF9mo6BcLcQJTiep/s1600/Kate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEAF7MJo_A5Dw0t4y_2KQpSp3gxfE9dwN8LR6mnroCpFTT_iMCbhOK5NWLEDiPhyphenhyphenXQSmjTck1DP4B5f8n4Yv8iASueOXzoTcp0nVl3Vx-NZVgs9pSjf1q0VGwcBwJ0bF9mo6BcLcQJTiep/s320/Kate.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Photo courtesy of Jonathan Brady/PA Wire</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But, there is one thing that especially stood out to me, and
I’m sorry to say it is not normal … but it should be. There I was, watching the
video of the Royal family and their new prince outside the hospital. So much to
gawk at, including the fact that this new mom was standing there in heals with
her hair beautifully coiffed. But, then, something really jumped out at me.
Kate handed the baby to her husband, and there she stood, holding her post-baby
belly like she was proud of it. I know I am among many women who has felt
self-conscious about her belly—even one day after childbirth. But, beautiful
Kate showed women all over the world that the belly we find repulsive on
ourselves was something we should be parading. Who knows, maybe it was purely
out of habit that she was cradling her tummy. But, I’d like to think that she consciously
sent a message to women everywhere that they, too, should be insanely proud of
their post-baby bellies. Thank you, Duchess, and congratulations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For Daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>.</span> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-87689779447718264572013-07-11T13:17:00.000-04:002013-07-11T13:17:15.229-04:00Fork vs. Toddler<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In this case, the fork met its demise. A little advice if you are in the market for utensils for teething toddlers, do NOT buy ones with rubber handles. Or, maybe the fork tasted better than my cooking. Hmmm.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhPUVvNhQLIZKWTf9SaJXl_1S3d3EMSH82iSunHVONfIS1s5w-YIQ8j6GXRWcvNasvuMe3CauDhHeTONe6KEbRXGJ15r8mxCQdvS_-AvaUleB5UB7cdMaFYdyNByBFfdiHeAclJaevWw7/s1600/fork.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFhPUVvNhQLIZKWTf9SaJXl_1S3d3EMSH82iSunHVONfIS1s5w-YIQ8j6GXRWcvNasvuMe3CauDhHeTONe6KEbRXGJ15r8mxCQdvS_-AvaUleB5UB7cdMaFYdyNByBFfdiHeAclJaevWw7/s400/fork.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">!</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-88366284477599408662013-06-27T21:44:00.002-04:002013-06-27T21:44:46.393-04:00Moms=1, Insecurities=0<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't usually repost articles on this blog website, but this one was too special to share with only my Facebook followers. These are beautiful photographs of real moms ... insecurities and all. I'm so proud of these women for embracing what we all wish we could. Here is one example. <a href="http://blogs.babycenter.com/mom_stories/06272013-jade-beall-a-beautiful-body-project-must-see-photos-celebrate-real-moms-bodies/" target="_blank">Find the rest here</a>.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdUWQHh6oYwwmSN4lDtBERwx9YnDPruPlfcWmD5cptk40MjudmUmGJrnYoId0IfHFSRrK_z_RaRX7pkYvcG1YYNXt7-66-gu_ZMRQNyxArB5pCfas9muGg7aiMxAC0xZrD7ZLnc_IKtetP/s300/moms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdUWQHh6oYwwmSN4lDtBERwx9YnDPruPlfcWmD5cptk40MjudmUmGJrnYoId0IfHFSRrK_z_RaRX7pkYvcG1YYNXt7-66-gu_ZMRQNyxArB5pCfas9muGg7aiMxAC0xZrD7ZLnc_IKtetP/s400/moms.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap and other fantastic finds, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>.</span><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-77990096673492548742013-06-27T09:00:00.000-04:002013-06-27T09:48:35.337-04:00Cinderella has Boobies<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, my 4-year-old daughter whispers in my ear last night, "I saw Cinderella's boobies."</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB6JvOOpPrAsGllkVE8CVUdp9iIrT2bxZK7rtG0aryumK9OVBLkIdur5H2kETc5SAPh0dmbuhokCZdZs2QO-FXaJQ1AAnLA5C84RKKHYo2673JoSjzuzN-CKhDuEA2UP6ceEroc3UUl_g/s1600/boobs2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDB6JvOOpPrAsGllkVE8CVUdp9iIrT2bxZK7rtG0aryumK9OVBLkIdur5H2kETc5SAPh0dmbuhokCZdZs2QO-FXaJQ1AAnLA5C84RKKHYo2673JoSjzuzN-CKhDuEA2UP6ceEroc3UUl_g/s400/boobs2.jpg" width="293" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Of course my initial thought is that Disney has gone R-rated on me. But, after probing a little more, I find out that she just meant that she saw the bumps in her clothes. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She has been seeing Cinderella and other princesses (with boobies) for quite a while now. I have no idea why she is just now noticing their racks. She plays with Barbie dolls, too, but has never once mentioned their boobies. She also seemed a little embarrassed by it at the same time. I imagine she'll feel the same way about her own chest in about 8-10 years. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It will probably be more like, "What's up with the bruises on my chest and why is one of them bigger than the other? If these are my boobs, I hope this is some kind of sick joke God is playing on me and when I wake up in the morning I'm going to look like C-cup Annie Krupp from my volleyball team. If not, I am going into hiding until they even out."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ah, boobs ... after having a baby, that might be the #2 most talked about topic ... after poop, of course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-74053048193908850282013-06-26T16:54:00.002-04:002013-06-26T20:28:36.697-04:00A Good Day for Equality<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYqMeIcf-hp974Zdo-5ICkr4r8D3rre6zEmE7VgpSIpLog_HllMjm6sLCaF2FkuKKJWdrqZ0o6pdVmDr6RVyCGXFURTY5MLPh0pgs5LqJeFvDvoLTkLz8psouWblr6gjj2Cp8jEOAn-dP/s1600/gay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYqMeIcf-hp974Zdo-5ICkr4r8D3rre6zEmE7VgpSIpLog_HllMjm6sLCaF2FkuKKJWdrqZ0o6pdVmDr6RVyCGXFURTY5MLPh0pgs5LqJeFvDvoLTkLz8psouWblr6gjj2Cp8jEOAn-dP/s400/gay.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I hope when my children learn about the Supreme Court ruling from today in their history lessons, they think, "Why in the world was that ever needed? It makes no sense that people would be discriminated against because of who they want to marry." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Kind of like how we think of the 21st Amendment. It makes no sense to me that alcohol would have ever been banned. Were there no parents of children ages 18 and under at the time? If that happened today, I would totally LIKE "Speakeasy for Parents" on Facebook.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://blog.jamessansonelaw.com/2012/06/gay-marriage-the-american-cont.html" target="_blank">Photo courtesy of Sonoma County Lawyer Blog</a>.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-36536309422444135492013-06-25T17:45:00.002-04:002013-06-25T17:45:51.738-04:00A Lesson in Sharing<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My twins learned the cutest lesson in sharing from their 6-year-old friend. This 6-year-old had a dollar bill, and was so kind to want to share it with my 4-year-old twins. So, since there are two of them, what did she do? Yep, tore it in half. I'm pretty sure those halves don't count as a half dollar in the monetary sense, but what a moment it was when all the adults standing around gasped, then smiled in adoration of that little girl.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-69711653052039235382013-06-20T14:14:00.001-04:002013-06-20T14:14:41.517-04:00Doolittle Raid History Lesson<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Are your kids in a summer coma yet? If so, here is a perfect chance to give a history lesson to your children. The following was sent to me in an email. I do not know who wrote it, so if this ever makes it to the author, please find me at www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou so that I can give you proper credit. The reunion the author speaks of was just held in April of this year, and turns out it was the last reunion these brave men will have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">*****************</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's the cup of brandy that no one wants to drink.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On Tuesday, in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, the surviving Doolittle Raiders gathered publicly for the last time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They once were among the most universally admired and revered men in the United States. There were 80 of the Raiders in April 1942, when they carried out one of the most courageous and heart-stirring military operations in this nation's history. The mere mention of their unit's name, in those years, would bring tears to the eyes of grateful Americans.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now only four survive.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After Japan 's sneak attack on Pearl Harbor, with the United States reeling and wounded, something dramatic was needed to turn the war effort around.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Even though there were no friendly airfields close enough to Japan for the United States to launch a retaliation, a daring plan was devised. Sixteen B-25s were modified so that they could take off from the deck of an aircraft carrier. This had never before been tried--sending such big, heavy bombers from a carrier.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The 16 five-man crews, under the command of Lt. Col. James Doolittle, who himself flew the lead plane off the USS Hornet, knew that they would not be able to return to the carrier. They would have to hit Japan and then hope to make it to China for a safe landing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But on the day of the raid, the Japanese military caught wind of the plan. The Raiders were told that they would have to take off from much farther out in the Pacific Ocean than they had counted on. They were told that because of this they would not have enough fuel to make it to safety.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And those men went anyway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They bombed Tokyo, and then flew as far as they could. Four planes crash-landed; 11 more crews bailed out, and three of the Raiders died. Eight more were captured ; three were executed. Another died of starvation in a Japanese prison camp. One crew made it to Russia .</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Doolittle Raid sent a message from the United States to its enemies, and to the rest of the world: We will fight. And, no matter what it takes, we will win.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Of the 80 Raiders, 62 survived the war. They were celebrated as national heroes, models of bravery. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer produced a motion picture based on the raid ; "Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo," starring Spencer Tracy and Van Johnson, was a patriotic and emotional box-office hit, and the phrase became part of the national lexicon. In the movie-theater previews for the film, MGM proclaimed that it was presenting the story "with supreme pride."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Beginning in 1946, the surviving Raiders have held a reunion each April, to commemorate the mission. The reunion is in a different city each year. In 1959, the city of Tucson , Arizona , as a gesture of respect and gratitude, presented the Doolittle Raiders with a set of 80 silver goblets. Each goblet was engraved with the name of a Raider.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Every year, a wooden display case bearing all 80 goblets is transported to the reunion city. Each time a Raider passes away, his goblet is turned upside down in the case at the next reunion, as his old friends bear solemn witness.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also in the wooden case is a bottle of 1896 Hennessy Very Special cognac. The year is not happenstance: 1896 was when Jimmy Doolittle was born.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There has always been a plan: When there are only two surviving Raiders, they would open the bottle, at last drink from it, and toast their comrades who preceded them in death.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As 2013 began, there were five living Raiders; then, in February, Tom Griffin passed away at age 96.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What a man he was. After bailing out of his plane over a mountainous Chinese forest after the Tokyo raid, he became ill with malaria, and almost died. When he recovered, he was sent to Europe to fly more combat missions. He was shot down, captured, and spent 22 months in a German prisoner of war camp.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The selflessness of these men, the sheer guts ... there was a passage in the Cincinnati Enquirer obituary for Mr. Griffin that, on the surface, had nothing to do with the war, but that emblematizes the depth of his sense of duty and devotion:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> "When his wife became ill and needed to go into a nursing home, he visited her every day. He walked from his house to the nursing home, fed his wife and at the end of the day brought home her clothes. At night, he washed and ironed her clothes. Then he walked them up to her room the next morning. He did that for three years until her death in 2005."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So now, out of the original 80, only four Raiders remain: Dick Cole (Doolittle's co-pilot on the Tokyo raid), Robert Hite, Edward Saylor and David Thatcher. All are in their 90s. They have decided that there are too few of them for the public reunions to continue.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The events in Fort Walton Beach this week will mark the end. It has come full circle ; Florida 's nearby Eglin Field was where the Raiders trained in secrecy for the Tokyo mission. The town is planning to do all it can to honor the men: a six-day celebration of their valor, including luncheons, a dinner and a parade.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do the men ever wonder if those of us for whom they helped save the country have tended to it in a way that is worthy of their sacrifice? They don't talk about that, at least not around other people. But if you find yourself near Fort Walton Beach this week, and if you should encounter any of the Raiders, you might want to offer them a word of thanks. I can tell you from firsthand observation that they appreciate hearing that they are remembered.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The men have decided that after this final public reunion they will wait until a later date -- sometime this year -- to get together once more, informally and in absolute privacy. That is when they will open the bottle of brandy. The years are flowing by too swiftly now; they are not going to wait until there are only two of them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They will fill the four remaining upturned goblets. And raise them in a toast to those who are gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For a recap of the reunion, <a href="http://www.generalaviationnews.com/2013/05/doolittle-raiders-hold-final-reunion/" target="_blank">click here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">like me on Facebook</a>!</span><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-66413505381289231942013-06-20T08:51:00.001-04:002013-06-20T08:57:58.444-04:00Flipping Out at Five<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Is there a stage at almost 5-years-old that I need to be
warned about?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lately, both of my 4-year-olds, who will turn 5 in August,
have been acting ridiculously hormonal. They will be happy and having a great
time, then with a flip of the switch, they are in full on Ross Rage mode (for
you “Friends” lovers out there). It’s reminiscent of the rage I saw in my son
at 3. But, at least at 3, he had a reason for his tantrums. Like the time he
didn’t want to leave the park, so I acted like I was leaving him, then he
finally came … with poop in his pants (wearing underwear). He was pretty mad,
but not into rage mode until I put him in his car seat with the poop in his
pants and drove home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zqXhBt98hclpRWyHcqhaXWNNz8tmWKG8OTPrunOJPzaG39IaGXoE7q7GfsYK4d4tV9R7vb4ZiF2uWiq8qRRPvs7ccBNvQQJiObnc8bjBiulS04Q6uXu-GcNSyqsKxg6G8X5I_3m3Xle7/s1600/angry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zqXhBt98hclpRWyHcqhaXWNNz8tmWKG8OTPrunOJPzaG39IaGXoE7q7GfsYK4d4tV9R7vb4ZiF2uWiq8qRRPvs7ccBNvQQJiObnc8bjBiulS04Q6uXu-GcNSyqsKxg6G8X5I_3m3Xle7/s400/angry.jpg" width="397" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But now, it will take such a small thing to set them off. At
dinner tonight (yes, we have breakfast for dinner when I’ve waited too long to plan
anything, or haven’t been to the grocery store), the following came out of my
son’s mouth within about 10 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Big sigh) followed by me asking him if he was finally full
after 10 pancakes? “No, I’m just disausted.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I laugh, because it was cute. He gives me a dirty look—eyebrows
down so far I almost can’t see his eyes and lips pursed so they are almost
white—then said, “You make me twice times madder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A minute later, he pours more syrup with the spout that
looks like a face, and said while laughing, “Watch the syrup throw up.” Okay …
happy again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Two minutes later, he hears his sister and dad having fun in
the family room and said, “You’re annoring (annoying) me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My daughter, who has been pretty much an angel since birth,
has started grunting and stiffening her arms with her fists to the ground when
she doesn’t get her way or gets upset about something. Sometimes, she will even
hit me … never full strength … almost in a joking way, but not really. I’m torn
with whether to laugh at her or go apeshit on her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And the lying … oh, the lying. They are little lies at this
point, like when they tell me they brushed their teeth, but I know damn well
they didn’t. I call them out for lying, which usually leads to my daughter
hitting me again and saying, “How do you ALWAYS know?” I do wonder how long she
will believe that Mommies and Daddies have a special magic computer chip in us
that scans the brain of their children and tells us when they are lying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, I guess this is sort of a cry for help or at least a
way to see if anyone else went through this when their kids were this age. I’d
love to hear your stories and your advice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">like me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-32310124290387173132013-06-13T17:32:00.001-04:002013-06-20T08:58:30.398-04:00Good Teenage Parent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpyN5VGZZxqHkL_SSzecrsefVFczueF9ob08iW2brb4f5JRTZewwJHmH98Wmh44H9NrfqlS4fHnZC655TNVtUAlNYk0heoYbPpEOTfMbQak_iPAaPH3dlqkq5IqWtZ7Yyvf_LEj2cXJkJK/s1600/teenager.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpyN5VGZZxqHkL_SSzecrsefVFczueF9ob08iW2brb4f5JRTZewwJHmH98Wmh44H9NrfqlS4fHnZC655TNVtUAlNYk0heoYbPpEOTfMbQak_iPAaPH3dlqkq5IqWtZ7Yyvf_LEj2cXJkJK/s400/teenager.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-68102204354468201832013-06-11T09:55:00.001-04:002013-06-11T12:33:57.873-04:00A Book is Worth a Thousand Snuggles<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It occurred to me recently that I may not be the only one
who questioned my ability as a parent because my children refused to sit
through a bedtime story the first two years of their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I blogged yesterday about bed time routines and shared the
fact that part of my routine with my baby is singing to him. Many people choose
to read a book instead of, or in addition to, singing. But, I found with this
baby and with my other two that their attention span before bed was pretty low,
regardless of their level of sleepiness, and a book just made them restless.
Reading before bed turned into a battle. I found myself practically tying them
down just so they would listen to a damn story. That’s when I realized they might
start to hate books if I was forcing this. It wasn’t until about 2-years-old
that I started reading a story to my twins before bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL-d5RpTN1PF8TLtU-1e-98K7BUSAmajXau0B9XTFuxTeY8aDnvX_euM8crmFFg26VIuomkDI3vZvj6kBpRu67-4iEcQH_DUVjiVDTgafmLajitFV2s7zfSa9v-bLIjVag-sprR_xYNLi0/s1600/reading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL-d5RpTN1PF8TLtU-1e-98K7BUSAmajXau0B9XTFuxTeY8aDnvX_euM8crmFFg26VIuomkDI3vZvj6kBpRu67-4iEcQH_DUVjiVDTgafmLajitFV2s7zfSa9v-bLIjVag-sprR_xYNLi0/s400/reading.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The fact is, we all want our children to love books, but we
are brainwashed into thinking that they HAVE to have a book before bed or we
are bad parents. There was a time I thought my kids were going to be less
intelligent because I wasn’t reading to them before bed. Sheesh! Now that the
twins are older, story time before bed is so special. And one of my 4-year-olds
is reading short stories, so I don’t think their lack of bedtime stories when
they were one did any harm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All of my kids love books, and our book time is much more
productive and enjoyable during the day when they are alert, especially the
first two years of life. The baby will get stuck on one book each day, and we
may end up reading it 12 times in a row. He will do sign language for “more,”
and now even mutters, “Mo?” especially with books that force me to make silly
and sometimes embarrassing noises. Anyone read Sandra Boynton’s “Doggies” 12
times in a row? If you know this book, you can sympathize. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My point is, please do not stress if you can’t implement
stories into your bedtime routine. That will not define their intelligence or
their love of books. As long as they are exposed to books during the day, they
will love them. But, please expose them to books and read to your children. I read
a terrifying article recently that I almost didn’t believe. There are actually
children entering Kindergarten classrooms without the recognition of what a
book is or how to turn its pages. This is sad to me on so many levels.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, sit down with a book and your child—even if there are no
words and you have to bark like 10 different dogs and meow like a cat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">like me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-972960398560072912013-06-10T15:20:00.001-04:002013-06-10T15:20:49.390-04:00Don’t Let the Bed Bugs Bite<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will never claim to be an expert in child rearing.
However, every once in a while I like to share advice on things that have
worked for me, or—more often than not—things that have NOT worked for me. No
better way to learn sometimes than from mistakes.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2Y9UN6Hfs8uCBn85s0ui82UemCOeGqmqpM5VSXARD7G9XpRR-XNE_R0nCd13i0InCZrFzBIOJ_rE-MTdKaaV8022JyfazSlUpg7-Ri6ZpV3UOSt92KmU5AhUPc8A4UX1BEC-GwULDyDp/s1600/sleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In this case, it is something that has worked for me. This
topic is on sleep habits; specifically, getting a baby/toddler to go to sleep.
Today, I broke one of my own rules, mainly because I saw a selfish opportunity
to hold onto a baby moment while I still can. And, after 18 months, I feel
comfortable that this one day will not ruin all my work leading up to this
moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While none of my three kids really slept through the night
until they were one (meaning, 10-12 hours straight), I have always had
tremendous luck in getting them to go to sleep. I attribute that to two practices.
One, I do my best to maintain a consistent schedule every single day, which
includes a nap time and bed time that will get my child into his bed before he
is too tired (this is a real thing!). And, two, the routine leading up to sleep
time is the same every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2Y9UN6Hfs8uCBn85s0ui82UemCOeGqmqpM5VSXARD7G9XpRR-XNE_R0nCd13i0InCZrFzBIOJ_rE-MTdKaaV8022JyfazSlUpg7-Ri6ZpV3UOSt92KmU5AhUPc8A4UX1BEC-GwULDyDp/s1600/sleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR2Y9UN6Hfs8uCBn85s0ui82UemCOeGqmqpM5VSXARD7G9XpRR-XNE_R0nCd13i0InCZrFzBIOJ_rE-MTdKaaV8022JyfazSlUpg7-Ri6ZpV3UOSt92KmU5AhUPc8A4UX1BEC-GwULDyDp/s400/sleep.jpg" width="225" /></a><o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nap time is always the same and bed time is always the same
every day. Over time, you learn how much sleep your baby requires in a 24-hour
period. You also learn at what time they really get sleepy. Once you learn
this, make sleep time about 30 minutes before that. Putting your baby in his
crib before he is asleep or before he gets too tired is a great habit to start
at an early age. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This leads me to my rule breaking today. We had an active
morning with music class, followed by Kid Zone play at the gym while I exercised.
Baby was tired, so by the time I got to singing and rocking him, his eyelashes
all of a sudden seemed to weigh 10 pounds. I just sat there and kept humming
until he was asleep. (Sigh. My heart melts.) All parents love this moment, but
IMHO, it’s a tough habit to break, making it that much harder for your child to
ever fall asleep on his own or in the care of someone else. And, the earlier
you start teaching your child to fall asleep on his own, the easier it is on
everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After baby is used to this, naptime and bedtime will result
in very little fussing or crying—this assuming your baby is healthy and that
infants with colic have grown out of that. You will hear this from many
different people, and I believe in it 100 percent … “Kids not only need a
routine, they want a routine.” This applies to rules, too. This reminds me, I’ll
have to share our rules in a future blog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Of course there are days when the baby might be forced to
sleep in a stroller or in the car, or we may get home late from being at a
friend or relatives house. He has two older siblings, making it impossible to
be home for nap time every single day. But, because he is well-rested from
consistencies on most other days, I find it is easier to get him to sleep if he
isn’t in his own bed. Then, if it is a short nap, it’s just one day, so it
doesn’t disrupt his life too much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also, having a few things you do leading up to naptime will
make it easier if you are in a situation where your little one can’t sleep in
his own bed. Even if you are able to do one or two of those things, it can send
the message that it’s time to go to bed. It doesn’t have to be much. At
naptime, I give him milk, change his diaper, and sing him a song while I rock
him for a couple minutes. Then, I lay him down with his pacifier and lovie bear.
At night, he gets a bath, milk, teeth brushing, massage with lotion, clean
jammies, a song, a pacifier, and his lovie bear. If I can carry out a few of
these before bed in a strange place, he recognizes it’s part of bed time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another trick that has worked is teaching sign language for
“sleep.” You can have the strictest schedule, but some days, your little one
might feel tired prior to his scheduled nap time. If I know my little guy is
well-fed, well-hydrated, and getting the attention he wants, but still acts
fussy, I will ask him if he wants to go night-night and do the sign for sleep. If
that’s it, he will do the sign back and run to the steps waiting for me to take
him up. He won’t always sleep, but sometimes I think he just needs a little
alone time. I know how he feels! His siblings are a lot to take at times. (BTW,
I started teaching sign language to my children right away, but their use of
signs to communicate with me didn’t start until about 9 months to a year. My
point is, don’t worry if you’ve been signing with your baby for 6 months and
nothing is happening. One day it will just click and be so rewarding for both
of you.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One more bit of advice in getting your child to sleep, especially
when they know what bugs are. Do NOT use the phrase, “Good night, sleep tight,
don’t let the bed bugs bit.” I repeat, do NOT use that phrase, unless you want
to change sheets, vacuum the floor around his bed, and sleep with him that
night. See, now you can learn from one of my mistakes! Sweet dreams!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">like me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-87187131647315739012013-05-29T17:19:00.001-04:002013-05-29T17:19:23.614-04:004-Year-Old Cake Decorator<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here's an easy and super special cake idea I used for my husband's birthday cake over the weekend. Everyone knows you can have the bakery scan a photograph to put on a cake, but did you ever think of using artwork drawn by your child? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyR2oBMVSxaVU6nk3sb-bLyvvVLFHjmYA2fdzkqNBDz7eGZfdJcSu3K2PjhppaCUUKjzPKnNYh15-S7hwOGHXRRbugNF442zSHeNycwigB7hdNM37S0pAfNAlHDy5LFlCBwaBflXk8_fD/s1600/977174_10151522868199678_1991912184_o-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXyR2oBMVSxaVU6nk3sb-bLyvvVLFHjmYA2fdzkqNBDz7eGZfdJcSu3K2PjhppaCUUKjzPKnNYh15-S7hwOGHXRRbugNF442zSHeNycwigB7hdNM37S0pAfNAlHDy5LFlCBwaBflXk8_fD/s400/977174_10151522868199678_1991912184_o-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I attempted to get the 4-year-old twins to work on this together, which ended in crying and fighting. After I wiped my tears away, it was clear there would be no forcing the boy to do more than scribbling, so I let the girl do it on her own. Boy didn't care. Shocker! So, girl came up with a picture of her dad and the twins playing baseball (in case you couldn't tell)--complete with the backward "R" in "Birthday." It was perfect!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">Like me on Facebook</a>!</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-40030170889331239982013-05-29T16:50:00.002-04:002013-05-29T16:50:15.471-04:00I Could Learn from Showbiz
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I was watching a sitcom the other night, I was making
snarky comments about how out-of-touch with real life they were. With four
kids, including twin babies, sitting at the table eating dinner in peace, while
the adults carry on in the adjacent room. Or, how the three dads watch a
basketball game at a bar with their three babies in kangaroo pouches and not …
a … peep.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DuKalGGOGn1mgrTPh9JphlgiJdz4ZLaMKH3b5Ol5bm0OnPDzZzDjMCNJNxFmCm3zPmvv6bsqiVfn1H7uG52_gv3nO2Wctd5Bg7IlHZmdWebShlQOo53Ph-IB8n2l80cSq_SNIOMh_BDX/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-05-29+at+9.11.15+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DuKalGGOGn1mgrTPh9JphlgiJdz4ZLaMKH3b5Ol5bm0OnPDzZzDjMCNJNxFmCm3zPmvv6bsqiVfn1H7uG52_gv3nO2Wctd5Bg7IlHZmdWebShlQOo53Ph-IB8n2l80cSq_SNIOMh_BDX/s400/Screen+shot+2013-05-29+at+9.11.15+AM.png" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Courtesy youtube.com</span></i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I laughed at it all—not because it was funny—because it was
a farce. Or, was it?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As far as I know, these are real live children they are
using in these shows, not robots, right? And, even with the magic of editing,
there still has to be a certain amount of time when these children all behave
at the same time, right? So, how are they doing it? How many takes until they
have a keeper? I’m convinced they must know something I do not.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’ve had … let’s see, the twins are about 1,730 days old,
and at 3 meals/day, that’s 5,190 … 5,190 takes at having a meal in peace with
children at the table. Apparently, I wouldn’t make a good director.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-6511733292777829652013-05-18T19:07:00.005-04:002013-05-18T19:07:41.073-04:00Barbie Clears the Pool<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not just anyone can clear an entire pool by choking on water shortly after eating a sizable fruit salad. Dang Barbie!</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYngl6IQA87XknLXgD-nRWtvvHm2BIi495R0yf2R3tqunpluS5TmZk7EEhIsgQvRHwzMSMH6g3C4BKl8nnFPnuPXMhTTtZUzTmveikJSqMO5Hi04SW3eN0UuUlgO4kItw5JklFHEcgmaJ/s1600/pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYngl6IQA87XknLXgD-nRWtvvHm2BIi495R0yf2R3tqunpluS5TmZk7EEhIsgQvRHwzMSMH6g3C4BKl8nnFPnuPXMhTTtZUzTmveikJSqMO5Hi04SW3eN0UuUlgO4kItw5JklFHEcgmaJ/s400/pool.jpg" width="310" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-71746038992605760022013-05-13T15:46:00.003-04:002013-05-13T15:46:36.997-04:00Today Should be a Work Holiday<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am taking just a brief few minutes to tell you why the day
after Mother’s Day should be a work holiday for fathers. My hubby was so sweet
to me this weekend. He surprised me with a wonderful date for just the two of
us Friday night, followed by a pedicure Saturday morning, a massage Saturday
afternoon, a get together with my recently-separated friend and her kids
Saturday night (complete with good wine, antipasto, and chocolate), a couple hours
on a rooftop pool with friends (no kids) on Sunday, and a homemade dinner for
our family and our in-laws that night. Starbucks was delivered to me every
morning, AND, he changed every poopy diaper! Kudos to my thoughtful husband.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, before you think I am bragging about how great my
husband is (I am, a little), just know this completely shames the hamburger
helper dinner he made me for my very first Mother’s Day … with twins! Sorry,
babe, I had to throw you under the bus for the good of blogger world. There’s
nothing worse than reading about a family that can do no wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Back to my point. I know most of you are saying, “Okay,
where is she going with this? She isn’t actually going to imply that dads need
a break after taking care of their wives and kids for a day or two, is she?”
No. But, here is what happens. Today, Moms all over the country are putting aside
the laundry, the dishes, the cleaning, the attention to the kids, the bill
paying, the card sending, the dinner making, and the apple pie baking to pick
up the slack for the duties that are normally done by their husbands on the
weekends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6TichuC6e5mSZwCuMHxGVB9m7uN00bpAxOAppkeCU7yjVogcziL5L_xj_YQ6pY7XyUEFelMFWLEM9ppJGYOIG8qWJGEyZObFFx22bBndlwXkALmRO6v8KF_x3Pwo9PClch6Ac25qo4p-/s1600/mow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho6TichuC6e5mSZwCuMHxGVB9m7uN00bpAxOAppkeCU7yjVogcziL5L_xj_YQ6pY7XyUEFelMFWLEM9ppJGYOIG8qWJGEyZObFFx22bBndlwXkALmRO6v8KF_x3Pwo9PClch6Ac25qo4p-/s400/mow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because I didn’t lift a finger all weekend, my own projects
piled up on me. But, instead of catching up, I’m mowing the lawn, pulling
weeds, and edging while the kids are napping, because I know my husband won’t
be able to get to it during the week, and waiting until the weekend might
invite jungle animals to find habitat in our backyard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don’t mean to sound insensitive to single parents who are
stuck doing ALL the tasks, ALL the time. Nor, do I mean to sound insensitive to
moms who mow the lawn and men who do the laundry. I do feel fortunate to have a
partner who does help with the chores, as well as who loves me, and spends
quality time with our children. So, please do not attack me too harshly for
sounding like a spoiled little brat right now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s like those nights when you say screw the dishes after
dinner and go straight to bed. Yes, it’s great to get the extra sleep, but you
are working twice as hard trying to get out the door the next morning.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-23574042891068015942013-05-12T10:41:00.003-04:002013-05-12T10:41:31.914-04:00I Want to Want to be Alone<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first three years I was a mom, I wanted to spend Mother’s
Day with my kids and husband. I wanted to sleep in until about 8 a.m. I wanted
my family to take me to breakfast. I wanted to spend a leisurely day, going to
the botanical garden, then maybe the mall. My husband might buy me some new
perfume that would last me until it would go bad, since I so rarely wear it. I
would have a guilt-free nap in the afternoon. He would change all the diapers,
clean all the messes, and break up all the fights. We’d have a nice dinner,
followed by wrestling, then snuggling (with my kids, that is—the prize fight
would come later … or, not, because it’s my day and I can do whatever the hell
I want and not feel guilty about it).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HZGBA2qaw6KS2Zl8oqHk6rnLBWAC-wbBIVvMmTyuMwr_Bi2W5X6RPeXP2KnBWXoR_RPaYCRkx0pQP-Wdjiei9S2xlejq1XNDWYUQND9SLYI825sXP77XLWPscn9UngPCwX2X9VzZSuer/s1600/mothersday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HZGBA2qaw6KS2Zl8oqHk6rnLBWAC-wbBIVvMmTyuMwr_Bi2W5X6RPeXP2KnBWXoR_RPaYCRkx0pQP-Wdjiei9S2xlejq1XNDWYUQND9SLYI825sXP77XLWPscn9UngPCwX2X9VzZSuer/s400/mothersday.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, four plus years and three kids into motherhood, all I
want is to be left alone. Do you know how empty golf courses are on Mother’s
Day? The only thing I want is to NOT mother. I still want to BE a mother. I
just don’t want to mother them on this day. But, here’s the thing … there is
some magnetic force that pulls me to my family on that day. I know I will end
up spending the whole day with them, because I can’t fight it. And, I know the
next day I will regret the hell out of that decision. I will tell myself, “This
was your one chance, dummy! And, you did something you could do any other
Sunday of the year. One of these years you will learn.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do you notice how many dads get their golfing in on Father’s
Day? Most of them are away from their children all week, but you don’t see them
feeling guilty for being as far away from their kids as possible on their
special day. Why do moms (especially stay-at-home-moms) feel the need—or desire—to
spend their special day with the people they spend every waking moment with on
the 364 other days of the year?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I just want to want to be alone this Mother’s Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Happy Mother’s Day to every mom who wants to mother her
children 364 days a year. Moms—whether stay-at-home or career—are the hardest
working group of human beings in this world. Next year, let’s lobby for Mother’s
Week!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-12466343106396144542013-05-10T13:23:00.000-04:002013-05-10T13:23:08.235-04:00And the Child Becomes the Parent<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My husband has jet black hair. Let me start over. My husband
HAD jet black hair. Now, he has jet black hair with a sprinkling of silver.
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE it! I’ve always thought a man with salt and pepper
hair was very sexy, though he doesn’t believe it. So, I’m not sure why, but
whenever one of those silver hairs is poking out away from the rest, I just
want to grab it and yank it out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pR5htVrw056IfqN5KuCPTZ8ij6Ni-iq3ZP-Wp6suOJfGmWhrpW4W5eARiE-A1kwdRSMWOwJnNcxhyPxUdqGZdpWloxGrjR1s4rM5axVEeJnMkB03_yg_aB_1O6AAAdNocPlBJ6Fo7lv4/s1600/hair2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pR5htVrw056IfqN5KuCPTZ8ij6Ni-iq3ZP-Wp6suOJfGmWhrpW4W5eARiE-A1kwdRSMWOwJnNcxhyPxUdqGZdpWloxGrjR1s4rM5axVEeJnMkB03_yg_aB_1O6AAAdNocPlBJ6Fo7lv4/s400/hair2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Hubby and 4-year-old son last weekend at Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But, what my husband also has is a ton of hair and the
thickest roots. I will most certainly lose my hair before he will. So, when I
yank said hair, there is a huge bulbous root connected and it actually makes a
loud popping sound when it comes out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tonight, one of those hairs was screaming at me, and I tried
to use the “It’s Mother’s Day, won’t you let me just this one time?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">About that time, my 4-year-old daughter walks in. Hubby asks
her, in the most negatively descriptive way, if he should let me pull out his
rogue hair. She giggles, rolls her eyes, and turns away in an uncomfortable
shyness that she gets when she is being put on the spot. Then, she turns back,
points at both of us and says, “You two need to work that out on your own.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And the child becomes the parent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Where is this insight when she is arguing with her brother?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on FACEBOOK</a>!</span></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4254460979013092346.post-5533381777204622982013-05-03T11:26:00.000-04:002013-05-03T11:26:05.796-04:00Mom Knows Best
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am one of those people who pretty much trust whatever my
pediatricians tell me. If they tell me my kid needs vaccinations, I do it. My
theory is that I can read myself into crazy. There are opposing opinions on
just about every topic you can imagine as it relates to raising children. I
always ask them, “If this was your child, what would you do.” That’s good
enough for me.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’ve learned, though, what advice to take seriously and what
advice can be tinkered with. One of those things is being bottle-weaned by one
year. Well, my baby is almost 17-months-old, and while he occasionally uses a
sippy cup, his main means of transporting milk to his mouth is a bottle. Not
only does he still drink from a bottle, but most of the time I even take the chill
off the milk. Not only that, but I lay him back in my arms and feed him as if
he is 4-months-old. I love it. He loves it. My other kids love it (as seen in
the picture). </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJdn3ED_Beo3G_X7Khv94eb_iaJ36hyphenhyphen038u0qi1oPk7tMJ4vMsTaGn3dC0_1BmcTU_rTTKUwWDHxn-ZpaA4U5_noYAEeoubDfGNzYuAoIi0wEh3erWgP0M9tOhTKGm3G-biq1HNN4iXJcI/s1600/DSC_0218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJdn3ED_Beo3G_X7Khv94eb_iaJ36hyphenhyphen038u0qi1oPk7tMJ4vMsTaGn3dC0_1BmcTU_rTTKUwWDHxn-ZpaA4U5_noYAEeoubDfGNzYuAoIi0wEh3erWgP0M9tOhTKGm3G-biq1HNN4iXJcI/s400/DSC_0218.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’m not worried about his physical or mental development as
a result of this. I know eventually he’ll be switched over to a cup, just like
he will eventually give up his pacifier. I won’t let it go forever—certainly
not past 2-years-old. There are so many things about him that are still so
“baby.” He babbles (only a handful of words), he wakes up in the middle of the
night, he barely has any teeth, he has rolls of fat on top of rolls of fat, and
he barely has any hair. So, as long as we are all enjoying this bottle thing,
we are going to keep it going.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It’s like that with a lot of things, and I’m more open the
second time around. With the twins I was very much “by-the-book.” This time, I
put my emphasis on the really important things and put new importance on
certain things that are not “by-the-book.” This is my baby, and right now it is
important for me to treat him that way.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For daily doses of Crap, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/crapnoonetellsyou" target="_blank">LIKE me on Facebook</a>.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15652076055532181361noreply@blogger.com0