Tuesday, February 24, 2015

20 Reasons Why You'll Never Pee Alone

You may not share these tidbits of wisdom with your childless friends, or the friends who are having their first baby.

You gain a lot when you have children. (Love, hugs, a new way of looking at the world)

You lose a lot too. (Sleep, sitting down to eat, your mind).

One of the biggest things you'll lose is the chance to ever use the bathroom without someone barging in.  The reasons could be anything, but these are my favorite, and by favorite, I mean most pain in my ass reasons.

1. you have to open someone's water bottle (this happened several hours ago)
2. the kids are fighting
3. someone is hungry
4. you need to put in their video
5. "What is the password to the iPad?"
6. "Mom, your phone is ringing!"
7.  the kids are fighting.
8.  "Can we watch TV now?"
9.  "Where is my ________?"
10.  Look what I can do!
11.  (sobbing)
12.  I have a ouchie.
13.  I need to go potty and _______ is using the other bathroom.
14.  I feel sick.
15.  Mommy, remember the zoo, and we saw the thing, and then we umm . . .
16.  (Pointing at you and laughing)
17.  Bathroom hide and seek is super fun!
18.  I need to brush my teeth.
19.  "Mommy, I love you!"
20.  The kids are fighting.

All these things are as annoying as all hell, and can turn the most mild-mannered parent into a curse-spewing freak.  Since being a curse-spewing freak of a parent is very bad, a funny book needs to come to the rescue.  

Thank God for I Still Just Want to Pee Alone!  It's the third book in the nationally bestselling "Pee Alone" series, and the perfect cure for the mean Mommy blues.

And it's coming out on March 27, 2015!

We all need a book about parenting that makes us howl with laughter and feel that someone 40 fantastic mom bloggers understand exactly what we're going through.

I Still Just Want to Pee Alone is perfect for the mothers in your life, whether it's a mom with one newborn or five kids ranging from teens to toddlers.  It's a great gift for Mother's Day and baby showers, and well, just because!  And P.S., if you buy from me, I'm happy to send you an autographed copy!

I promise, the only one who will be disappointed is your partner, who will be wondering why you're lying in bed loudly guffawing while he's trying to sleep.  

I'm in this!  Coming March 27, 2015!

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Limited Edition Bundle Pack & Giveaway from myCharge!

Did you know that the average smartphone user checks their phone 110 times per day and that 2.7 hours of that is just for fun?

Did you also know that without an available power source 77% of phone users will have a dead battery by 4pm?

Whether at work or play all of these things can be a huge strain on your phone's battery, and this is where myCharge comes in!

myCharge is a leader in portable charging solutions that's been first to offer the most advanced solutions for a multitude of needs. Their devices boast built–in charging cords that emphasize portability and versatility, and powerful lithium polymer batteries that allow you to quickly charge your smartphone, tablet, eReader and other devices so that they’re ready when you need them! Ditch your dependency on cables and wall outlets – and let myCharge make your life a bit easier!

For the month of February myCharge is offering the Limited Edition RazorPlus Bundle for $49.99 - in it you receive a RazorPlus with the imprint: We can charge right here right now. The RazorPlus is anultra-thin rechargeable 3000 mAh battery crafted from anodized aluminum that delivers an extra 13 hours talk time for your smartphone. You'll also receive a shirt and a 22 oz. reusable/dishwasher safe stadium cup that is color-changing! The frosted cups turn green when filled with your favorite (possibly adult) beverage. Green is the new red after all!

myCharge is also giving away 20 of these Bundles FREE, so enter for your chance to win below! Limited Edition RazorPlus Bundle Prize from myCharge
 Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 For more fun contests, promotions and product info visit mycharge.com!

Sunday, February 8, 2015

How to REALLY Teach Dance

Plan some fantastic movement.  Something that gives your dancers a challenge, but is also fun to do!

Demonstrate it clearly and full out.  Really inspire everyone in the studio to rise to the occasion!

Show it again several times. Be very specific. Painstakingly  describe actions and movement quality. Carefully draw attention to the counts or any other tricky elements.

Wonder why everyone is still confused, but remain confident that you have created a nifty little phrase. Your dancers are sure to have their "A-ha" moment any time now!

Like any good teacher would, consider the possibility that you haven't addressed the multiplicity of learning styles in the room. Demonstrate three more times super slowly.  The first time, accentuate physical form; the second time narrate as though you were on the witness stand testifying in court; and the third time, emphasize musicality.  

Stifle your annoyance that your beautiful little phrase is on its way to becoming the Obamacare of dance combinations.

Attempt to answer a few more questions in as sweetly and as rationally as you can without bursting into deafening and primal sobs. Question what evil you could have possibly committed to deserve working with this group of so-called "dancers."

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and be filled with the conviction that "it's not you, it's THEM.”

Finally, stop fighting your feelings.  You’re going to have to say that thing you've been longing to say for YEARS.  After every hopelessly stupid question. After every damn excuse or reason why someone just can’t do what you’re asking.  After every persnickety analysis about the placement of your friggin’ pinky finger.

Just do the step!  Just. Do. The. #$%&ing. STEP! 

Shock yourself a little, realizing you've hit a new low in your teaching.

Smile. Because you’ve also hit a new high.

What Your Dance Teacher is Really Thinking #DTFS from Mom's New Stage on Vimeo.

Monday, January 19, 2015

When Our Children Steal

I never would have known, or I would have found out much later, if they hadn’t fallen out of his pocket, clattering onto the blacktop, as we ran across the parking lot. 

It was a pack of Mentos. 

I hadn’t bought anyone Mentos.  What I had bought was some Batman shirts for a child to whose birthday party we were going to be late. 

“DID YOU TAKE THOSE?!!!!”  I jerked Mr. R’s arm and steered us right back toward Old Navy.  Omigod. Omigod. Omigod.  “YOU DID!!!  What made you think you could take them?  You asked me if you could have them, and I said ‘NO’!  So you took them?!!! Omigod. Omigod. Omigod.  That’s it. No Chuck E. Cheese party for you! We are going home!!!”

“I saw them on the floor, so I thought I could take them.”

“That is bul- baloney, and you know it. You don’t take things from a store if you haven’t paid for them, and you know it!” I shouted. “You do this when you’re older, and Mama can’t help you.  I cannot help you, do you understand?” 

Of course he didn’t. How could he?

I burst into Old Navy, dragging my son and his poor little sister behind me. Wearing a mask of fury and shame, I presented myself in front of a cashier.  “We took these by mistake,” I confessed, placing the swiped confection on the counter. 

Looking confused, she nodded and we left.  We went to Chuck E. Cheese anyway – I intended to give the birthday boy his present and explain what happened, but we wound up staying.  Why should Lady A suffer for her brother’s actions? And besides, we were already there.  I made Mr. R sit alone in a time out for the first hour, before he could play a single game. And because it takes a village of nosy people who love to give advice, I decided that after the party, Mr. R would take his little behind back to Old Navy to ‘fess up to the security guard and the store manager.

He could barely look at them for the tears in his eyes. And both men -- young white men no more than 30 – felt such pity for my son, they almost wanted to apologize to him, this cute little black boy who committed an innocent mistake – a normal, childlike lack of judgment and test of boundaries.  He didn’t mean any harm!

I talked it over with mom friends of mine, both black and white, who regaled me with tales about how they or their siblings had stolen things as children. Everyone thought I did the right thing by giving him a time out at the party, making him return the goods, and not allowing him to play outside after school for several days.  But beyond that, I was digging too deep into my Catastrophe Playbook in thinking this predicted bad things to come.

In a different world, I could say that I completely overreacted in my rage, desperation, and, most of all, fear that day.  But I knew I wasn’t overreacting.  The consequences were greater for people of color.  Just the other day a good friend told me about her “chubby white teenage nephew” who was caught stealing from a convenience store.  Not a thing happened to him.  On a kid with more melanin, would events have unfolded the same way? 

All I could see is Mr. R doing something so stupid at 15, when he is tall and chiseled, no longer the sweet little boy burying his teary face in Mommy’s leg.   I got sick to my stomach imagining him facing a storeowner or manager insistent upon on pressing charges, a petty offense spiraling into disaster.

But instead of becoming enraged at a barely six-old-boy who had committed a normal childhood infraction – something which merited parental consequences before being tucked into the vault of family lore -- I should have been furious at our current state of affairs.  How was it that 50 years after the death of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., black parents lost sleep knowing that their children were still judged by the color of their skin and not by the content of their character?

How was it that black parents still had to give their sons “the talk” because one wrong move could ruin, if not end, their life? 

And how was it that most white mothers had to worry about almost none of the above?

As a parent, I‘d had many moments of exhaustion, stress and madness.  But parenting within a vicious double standard took me somewhere else altogether.

I felt insane. Especially knowing that this was only the beginning. 

This post was inspired by a conversation I had with Nicole over at Nicole Leigh Shaw.com.

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