New moms will agree that new mom advice is easy to come by. For example, there’s your mother-in-law and her stories about brandy in the baby bottle, or your childless cousin who’s quick to tell you about the evils of television watching. What’s hard to come by, however, is good advice.Read More
Month: December 2006
I’ve always found something really homey about employing the fridge as a magnetic board for family photos and postcards. But with the ridiculous assortment of magnets we end up accumulating it ends up looking less like a gallery and more like a bulletin board in the college dorm.
Plane rides with little ones can be a challenge, particularly for those of us who actually feel a modicum of sympathy for the childless traveler who gets stuck next to us. If you weren’t able to procure an entire row to yourself on the Jet Blue flight home from grandma’s this holiday, try diffusing the situation with a little humor.
My little girl loves jumping in puddles after a good rain. She’ll get a huge grin on her face, just before her bounding through every fallen drop in her path. The only part I have issues with, however, is the post-splashing whining about wet socks.
There comes a time in every mom’s life when she realizes that that diaper bag she once spent hours (weeks? months?) choosing, is often obsolete. Sometimes you just want to grab a few diapers and wipes, stuff them in a Ziplock bag, and run out the door. But that wouldn’t be very stylish now, would it.
Given that my pre-baby figure is MIA and unlikely to return without surgical assistance, I now consider clothes shopping for myself to be a less than perfect way to while away an afternoon. But shopping for my girls? That’s another story.
Growing up in the midwest, I endured some harsh winter mornings at the school bus stop. I gladly donned a heavy winter coat and warm mittens, but I drew the line at hats. Even though my mother was a talented knitter, she always tried to stick me in some goofy beanie. Talk about harsh.
For me, one of the few downsides to the holidays is having to smell that nasty synthetic pine tree scent wafting from candles everywhere. Or worse, the cinnamon scent. It smells less like grandma just baked a pie, and more like grandma just got back from the cheap candle booth at the flea market.
Mention music boxes to any mom, and undoubtedly she’ll be able to recall with vivid detail the very one she fell in love with as a child. It’s not hard, considering we all had the exact same one – it featured a spinning ballerina and played either You are the Sunshine of My Life or the theme from Love Story.
I’ve got two little girls myself. But when I’m buying gifts for the sons of friends and family, I tend to shy away from the camouflage pants and the construction-themed tees that every store seems to push on me. I suppose I feel they can still be "all boy" without dressing like miniature soldiers or welders.
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