Cool Mom Staff

Cool Mom Staff

We spend our time looking for cool stuff so you don't have to. Hope this one fits the bill.

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The Christmas of my childhood generally consisted of a full stocking and one big gift, which we certainly preferred to the alternative of fourteen crappy plastic toys and a few itchy grandma sweaters. It was way cooler to get something like a ballet barre, a rocking horse, or a teepee.

Crazy Legs McGee

While I’m not wholeheartedly welcoming back 80s trends like leggings and cinched belts over long sweaters (Earth to fashion designers, come in…) I am delighted about leg warmers. You heard me, leg warmers. But only because I’m not the one expected to wear them.

Chocolate: It Does a Boobie Good.

With so many important causes that speak to me, I find it hard to keep track of them all. And while I do attempt to donate time or money to at least one charity a month, I’m fairly certain that I can singlehandedly fund breast cancer research with this one.

One-Stop Rocking

Wouldn’t it be amazing if there was one site that sold all the cool music that CMP recommends? And wouldn’t it be even more amazing if you didn’t have to dig through a bunch of other music–the kind we don’t recommend–on that site to find the good stuff that has been carefully tucked away?

C is for Cure

My mother-in-law successfully beat breast cancer several years ago, and while she doesn’t talk about it much, we all know it’s a cause she adamantly supports.We do our best to buy breast cancer stamps and wear any pink ribbon paraphernalia she sends us, but I’m always on the look out for something extraordinary that expresses our support for her courageous battle.

I’ll Pass on the Plastic Flavored Juice

It’s one thing when you sniff your kid’s clean plastic juice cup and it smells like a menagerie of the last few days of delightful drinks. Ick. But it’s a whole other issue when you read about the leakage of chemicals from the plastic into your kid’s digestive systems. That’s just plain bad news.

Return to (Stylish) Sender

After addressing way too manyof my two-year-old’s birthday invites, I realized the onlyreturn address labels I had werethe free ones from charities that remind you you still need to send them a little something-something in return. These labels aren’t so bad on a credit card bill, but perhaps not the greatest choice for my fancy photo cards and personal letters.

What They Don’t Tell You In Lamaze Class

Topping my list of things they really should teach you in your birthing class but don’t (and it’s a long list, believe me) is the variety of afflictions affecting your nether regions, post-baby. Who knew it would be like giving birth all over again!

Luka-ing Good

I know it’s only October, but those gift-giving holidays are just around the corner. And while we know your spouse or sigOth is probably a savvy gift giver, it can’t hurt to gently nudge him in a particular direction.

Adopting Style

I just received an email from a friend who’s recently returned from Kyrgyzstan with his beautiful new adopted daughter. Another friend is currently in China on a similar mission, and then CMP received an email from the author of a popular adoption blog–all of which made us realize that the adoptive parents market is underserved when it comes to cool gear.

Keeping a High Profile

I’m always thrilled to bits to get personal, handwritten notes. But I can’t help but snicker when I get a thank you note supposedly written in first-person by a newborn. Are the new parents already outsourcing their chores to these (clearly gifted) children? Call me a skeptic, but I’m pretty sure I can recognize adult handwriting.

Works Like a Diaper Bag, Feels Like a Purse

I admit that at first, I fell victim to the ugly pricy diaper bag. Then I transitioned to the large purse, which has worked well for me since my daughter reached toddlerdom. However, with #2 arriving in a few months and the threat of leaky bottles looming, it’s time to go back to the world of bags made to handle spills and messes.

Rub a Dub Dub, No Toys in My Tub

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.