The latest from Spawned: Our award-winning parenting podcast
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More coolness from recent weeks…
No One Has To Know There are Diapers in There
There are so many diaper bags out there, it can make your head spin. But what’s hard to find is one that really suits the artsy mom who doesn’t really see herself carrying a diaper bag in the first place (let alone a baby). Still, those waterproof interiors are pretty convenient…
Three Little Birds
From everything I’ve been reading, birds are the new black. Or something like that. We’re seeing them taking flight on jewelry, on artwork, on stationery, and now in perhaps one of the most welcome places, in nurseries.
God Save the Feet
For a woman like me with an utter and undeniable shoe fetish, it absolutely blows my mind that my daughter owned a single pair of shoes until she was actually walking. Who was this practical mom? And will she please stay away until after baby #2 comes along in a couple of months?
The Dingo Ate My Baby!
Sometimes we just find a kids tee that makes us laugh so hard, we’d be remiss if we didn’t share it with the world – even if our first instinct is to keep it for ourselves.
Love Means Having to Say You’re Sorry, Like, All the Time
Having a child means learning the fine art of apologizing – sorry Haden ruined your plane trip. Sorry Oliver ate your lipstick. Sorry Violet reached into her diaper and flung its contents at your dinner guests. Not that I’d know about such things.
Let’s Dish
Anything that gets me a little more excited to spend time in the kitchen is a good thing indeed. And by time in the kitchen, I don’t mean standing at the fridge in the middle of the night, looking for the last ice cream bar that someone ate without asking my permission.
Art You Can Climb All Over
A rocking horse is one of the essential staples of the traditional American nursery. But what if you don’t have the traditional American nursery? If you’ve taken the time to pick out the perfect Oeuf dresser and Svan table and chairs, those little ponies with the synthetic manes just may not cut it in the junior bedroom.
Encourage Her Shoe Fetish
I’m a minimalist when it comes to dressing babies: No jewelry, no fancy hats, and no booties. My girls didn’t wear shoes until they could walk, and I still grin at the professional portraits we have of them with bare toes peeking out from underneath their dresses.
You Oughta Be in Pictures
My toddler’s going through that self-awareness phase right now. She loves to preen in front of the bathroom mirror and make silly faces at her reflection windows. Not surprisingly, Rosie’s new MeMovies are the greatest thing to hit our household since the swaddling blanket.
Girl Power
Considering how far the career possibilities for women have come even since we were kids, it blows my mind that it’s still hard to find art depicting girls much beyond princesses, ballerinas, and the ocassional generic animal lover. (Veterinarian? Or just crazy cat lady in the making?)
My Daughter the Lighting Designer
It seems like overnight, our refrigerator became a full-on child’s art gallery. And while I love checking out my daughter’s masterpieces every time I go for a snack, that old fridge door just doesn’t do her creations any justice.
Mini Queens of Mod
Once upon a time, a doll featuring huge eyes, long lashes and skimpy skirts wouldn’t call to mind tasteless mass produced slut dolls that enrage millions of moms; but rather hip 60s-era fashion icons.
La-Z-Baby
I've been scouring the web for the perfect chairs for my daughter's tiny heiny, but I always run into the same problems. Either the chairs look like they were grown at the awful plastic farm, or they cost more than a piece that I could fit in.This is not the case,...
Handbagoholics, Put Your Hands Together
It has come to my attention that I have a bit of a bag addiction. And now Jane Raymond of Style Sister Studio enters my life and complicates matters further, since her amazing bags are the kinds that make you say, "oh just one more."
This Little Piggie
I’m not the type of person who avoids walking under ladders or reschedules meetings because my horoscope tells me to. But I admit that when I heard that babies born this year, according to Chinese astrology, would be the very blessed and rare Golden Pigs – I gave my pregnant belly a little rub and smiled from ear to ear.
What’s under Barbie’s dress? Don’t know, but it’s not human
I’m all for calling a spade a spade. Or the parts of the body by their proper names. And I’m convinced that the longer you delay the naming of certain organs, the harder it gets to talk about them with your kids.
Shopping With a Conscience
I simply can’t say enough about HandCrafting Justice, a partnership in which women from developing countries have an opportunity to better their lives by making and selling handmade items under decent working conditions for fair wages. The organization absolutely stole my heart with their mission of economic justice for women – to say nothing of the fantastic items they offer on the website.
Hey, Joe
Have I mentioned that my kitchen and its various electrical appliances intimidate me? That sometimes even the the relatively benign coffee pot has turned on me in my hour of need? One morning not long ago, it tried to brew up something completely undrinkable, thereby ruining my entire day. Lack of decent coffee has that effect on me.
These Booties are Made for Crawling
With a baby born smack-dab in the middle of a hot Mississippi summer, there was nary a pair of booties to be found in my house. But when Idiscovered I was having a January baby this time around, up in the Northeast no less,you better believe the first thing I did was search for some fantastic footwear.
Mod Onesies, Mod-Era Prices
If my mother wants to buy my girls clothes from Neiman Marcus, who am I to argue? But you won’t find me in there. Yeah, I’m practical. Maybe too practical. I want the cute designs you see on designer onesies, but it’s so hard for me to shell out the bucks when I know that they’ll be coated in bodily fluids in no time.
Twinkle Toes
I think that most every girl dreams of being a ballerina at some point. I did, even as I was rolling in mud puddles or pummeling a soccer ball. I confess in fact that I still harbor fantasies of a steamy pas de deux with Baryshnikov.
Oh, Misha. If only.