My parents started a lovely tradition of buying each of us an engravedgold ID bracelet when we were born.While I love the sentiment, I just can’t see myself buying my kids a filigree yellow gold bracelet considering they’ll probably never wear it.Read More
Month: July 2007
Being a mom of two little ones means the only Paris I’m likely to see anytime soon will be on a movie screen. Oh, who am I kidding. It’ll be my television if I can pry my eyes open past 9pm.
The Cool Mom Picks staff can’t wait for next week’s BlogHer Con ’07. Well, almost all of us. Tina will be home with her newborn, but Julie, Nancy, Laura, and editors Liz and Kristen will be there, babies in tow.
I will be honest, when I got wind of another line of alphabet tees, I wasn’t expecting much. But whoa! Where are the silly illustrations? Where’s that old standard, C is for Cat?
At only 22 months, my son may not have the coordination to throw a strike, but he can sure look the part in the smart bowling shirts from Kid Brother.
I searched long and hard for the perfect diaper bag but oddly, I spent less energy on the stuff that actually goes inside it–you know, the things your baby actually comes in contact with, like the changing pad and those disposable wipe thingies I nicked from the hospital.
Say what you like about my postpartum figure, but getting back in shape after pregnancy sucks and we all know it. Some parts will never look the same again without surgical intervention – like tummy wrinkles and those two "rocks in tube socks" – but that’s no excuse to ignore the muscles.
My daughter has been struck with a full on jewelry obsession. And while I’m fine with purchasing little girl necklaces and bracelets, I’m overwhelmed with the amount of little plastic and wooden beads that scream "choking hazard."
Now that the weather is reaching stratospheric temperatures in my Northeastern neck of the woods, naturally my thoughts turn to barbecue. Nothing like that classic combo of a huge open flame and 147% humidity.
I’ll bet I’m not alone in my reluctance to haul around a stack of books in the event that my child might want to crack open one of them. I’m a mom, not a pack mule.