There’s nothing like anticipating that glorious, uninterrupted, naptime shower only to have to spend an extra ten minutes emptying out all the darn bath toys that are scattered around the bottom of the tub. And the net thing? Please. That holds one rubber duck and my scrub brush, if that.
I distinctly remember when Peanut Butter & Co opened its doors in New York’s Greenwich Village several years ago. The whole city was abuzz – what could someone possibly do with peanut butter that would be worth a wait down the block?
With all the lovely fall and winter illnesses headed our way, plus the whole potty training thing looming, I figure it’s time to get the hand washing thing down. Except in my daughter’s mind, you’d think that "washing up" was another expression for "getting a shot."
I won’t go into exactly how many stuffed animals I have lying around my house, but I will say that I recently sent a few into on an extended trip to "toy vacation land" in order to make room on my daughter’s bed for, well, my daughter.
I’m a little weird when it comes to my baby’s pacifier. While of course I’ll pop in the closest one at hand at bedtime (or during meltdowns), it makes me a little wonky to give her say, the purple one when she’s wearing green and orange. Her dad thinks I’m nuts. But my feeling is, as long as we have one that matches the outfit, why not use it?
If you read Cool Mom Picks for all of about 10 seconds, you’ll realize we’re huge supporters of the community of mom-trepreneurs. We know how hard it can be to get a business off a ground, particularly while chasing small children around, and so part of our mission is to help get the word out about cool stuff that moms are making and selling.
Recently a friend asked me for advice on THE handbag for this coming season. I’m the wrong person to ask. Not because I don’t know what the magazines say is THE handbag for fall. But because there are so many fantastic bags that haven’t been deemed THE bag by a fashion editor who, by the way, gets her $6500 THE bag for free.
Ever since having a kid, I find we’re going through four times the tissues. Maybe it’s because someone’s always got a cold. Maybe because someone’s always spilling something. Or maybe it’s because my cat is acting out in really disgusting ways. (Sorry, carpet.)
I’m one of those folks thatleaves 14 minute long voicemail messages and answers multiple choice questions with a full page essay. So you can imagine what I do with my friends’ new baby cards. While I like to think my beautifully composed messages are glue sticked into the baby book, I’m pretty sure they get tossed right in the baby box (or worse) before the new parents get halfway through reading.
I’ve always loved the mysticism associated with bamboo. It’s a symbol of long life, protection against evil, and strength–all of which I could use more of these days. Especially strength.
I am amazed at how, in the two seconds that I turn my back, my daughter is able to get food inside her sleeves, down the back, under the hems of her jeans. I just never know where a wayward farfalle noodle will end up –or when I’ll actually find it.
I’ll never forget the morning of The Big Meeting at work, when my little girl Rosie was about 6 months old. I was just about to walk out the door — when suddenly she horked all over my best suit. I had protected my shoulder with a burpcloth, but still ended up with a line of spit-up dribbling down my back and all over my clean pants which of course I didn’t notice until I was already at the office.
I’d love to be one of those moms who makes cool Jello jigglers and star shaped sandwiches. But alas, my sole attempt at creating…
With all the scary stuff in the news about lead in lunchboxes, I’m leaning towards the old reliable brown bags when my daughter hits "bring your lunch" age. But little did I know, today’s lunch bags can be just as good for your kids as the food you put inside it. Cheetos not withstanding.
Growing up, I rarely saw my mother without knitting needles in her hands. Whether we were on long car trips or visiting family and friends, the needles clicked away endlessly. The lesson I took from it: Great way to stay entertained while visitingthe in-laws.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it hit me, but I remember feverishly rummaging through my daughter’s drawers trying to find the bibs I had buried during my misguided early "this child will never ever be caught in a bib" days. And then I saw the awful bibs I actually owned and quickly shoved them back.
Here at CMP, we talk a lot about stuff: Stuff for you. Stuff for your children. Stuff that makes us happy. But we don’t want our children’s lives to be ruled by how much stuff they have. And that’s why the message of singer-songwriter Paul Reisler seems so important.
Considering my daughter can spend upwards of two straight peaceful hours a day drawing and coloring, it would be great if I could find something to help us take her artwork on the go. Oh how much I would pay for a quiet restaurant meal!
Forget the smell of the new leather — just hearing the crinkle of tissue as I pull it from the toes of a brand new pair of shoes makes me pant. And so of course I couldn’t wait to take my daughter shopping recently for her first pair.
It wasn’t until after I had kids and lost most of my baby weight that I started needing a belt. I looked in the mirror one day and realized I had left my butt somewhere on the delivery table. But considering the style of belts that remind me more of what I wore in 1987 with my pegged leg jeans, I’ve invested instead in long shirts and resigned myself to the constant tug.