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.Read More
Month: September 2006
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.
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.
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