How To Valentine's Day Like a Boss

Let's be honest for a minute, Valentine's Day is weird. 

It is so weird. And I love holidays. I decorate, celebrate, commiserate, mediate, alleviate, try not to hate... all that. I put up the hearts, I fill the candy jars with conversation hearts, cinnamon lips, and mini sour hearts. It's always been a little uncomfortable, though, how we feel pressured to go out, buy cheesy gifts, and/or feel sorry for ourselves if we don't. When you have kids--especially those in grade school--Valentine's Day is all about making amazing cards for all their classmates, special boxes in which to hold them (our school even has a Valentine box competition!), class parties, and so much sugar that you consider banning all sweets for the next month or three.

It might be weird, but it's kind of cute for the kids. FOR THE KIDS! I have compiled a few different lists of cards, boxes, party ideas, and non-sugar-related items for your kids' best Valentine's Day ever. And if your kids are happy, YOU are happy. Especially when you have to do little work and research. It's all here.

Delicious Valentines

I know there are a lot of ideas, but THIS BINGO set is amazing. My family played it last night and everyone was having a blast. It's adorable, it's smart, it's ready to go. Huge recommend.

Check out this Valentines Pinterest page for more ideas for classroom parties.

Non-Food Valentines

Will Zoo Be Mine
Love is a Battlefield
Bouncy ball Valentines
Blow Me a Kiss Whistles

Or you can just forget all that and buy bags of M&Ms and watch a good chick flick. Yeah, do that!

New Mom Monday, Two

This week we finally took our Christmas tree down, an end-of-January tradition in our lazy, always-in-denial-that-the-holidays-are-over home.

It makes me sad every year, mostly because the end of the holidays means the end of winter, the start of spring, and eventually the hot, hot heat of an Arizona summer, but this year it also felt like the end of a very unexpectedly hard chapter in our family’s life.

I took down our animal ornaments and remembered when I took each one out of its box, which feels like it was both forever ago and just the other day, showing them to Winifred while trying to distract her from the annoyance of having two tiny teeth that would not just pop through already.

“This is a zebra! He is like a horse but with fun stripes! We are having fun!”

I talked to her like she understood everything I said, the way you have to when you are all alone with an infant all day and need to distract yourself from the loneliness and panic of having no idea what you are doing.

“Look at this beautiful giraffe. Mama doesn’t know what noise she makes, but she likes to eat and eat and eat, just like us!”

That tree has been up for more than half her life, and she probably doesn’t remember a time when it wasn’t there in the corner of our living room. She learned to play by herself underneath its branches while I sat on the couch and cried about almost everything, and together we stayed up late learning to breastfeed in its dim light.

I packed the last of the ornaments away while she sat in her swing, throwing her teething ring onto the floor and chewing on her fat fingers--no matter what toys I lovingly shove in her face, her hands seem to be the only things worth her time. It was only last Christmas I found out I was finally pregnant, and now she is getting so tall that her feet are almost spilling out of her swing like a bored, powerful king.

Babies are a lot of work (you heard it here first, people!), but the hard parts are what make us love them, and what make the good parts so much freaking fun.

Libbie Henrie is a new mother and really smart gal. You should believe everything she writes, especially the super sarcastic parts. She lives in Arizona with her husband and newborn baby. You can read more of her musings on her blog and follow her baby wearing adventures on Instagram @sweetcheeksbabywearing

The Infertile Mormon

by Belinda S. Han, MA

My name is Belinda, I am the oldest of five manly brothers and one very feminine, blonde haired, blue eyed sister (she has such a sensitive disposition that she cannot even handle moths). I have been married to a not-so-tall, but very dark, handsome, and strong man for nearly a decade. I have been blessed with a good education and meaningful work, I am a religious person, I have two of the most rambunctious and loving miniature dachshunds ever created, and (drumroll please)… I am childless. There is a difference between being childless and child-free. When a person is child-free he or she has chosen not to have children. When a person is childless he or she is unable to have children. Like in many conservative faiths, family and children are at the center of my religious culture. A few months ago I came across an article with an intriguing title: 5 Things Couples Dealing With Infertility in Your Ward (LDS Congregation) Wish You Knew. The title immediately caught my eye and I was excited to read it.

Here are the highlights:

  1. Never talk about children, motherhood, or anything else child related; you could offend those who are childless.
  2. Childless people want to feel like a martyrs, so make sure you always recognize his or her childless-ness.
  3. Always assume that speaking about children with a childless person is a painful topic (refer back to #1).
  4. Don’t ever be real about your parenting struggles and/or triumphs with a person that is childless; he or she might get offended (again, refer back to #1).
  5. Do not ever, I mean EVER share your feelings about how important and meaningful motherhood and/or fatherhood is (and, once again, refer back to #1). 

I was completely flabbergasted to read such a condemning article. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is one of the dumbest articles that I've ever read. Can you imagine having to hide who you are because someone who is different from you might get offended? This is like not sharing a delicious Ancho Chicken Taco with Cilantro Slaw and Avocado Cream recipe because there could be someone out there who is allergic to ancho chile and you might eternally damage their self-worth by saying how delicious this recipe is (by the way, this recipe looks AMAZING!!! You can thank me later for the link). I get that a human life and food are two very different things, but think about it.

Those of you that have children, do you ever have those fleeting moments where you see someone like me and have a twinge of jealousy because I get to go to the bathroom alone, or I get to go grocery shopping alone? But in the end you would NEVER trade your life for mine? Well, it's the same way for some of us that cannot have children. We have those moments of jealousy watching you get baby snuggles and being called mom or dad. But in the end, WE ARE HAPPY WITH THE BEAUTIFUL LIVES THE LORD HAS GIVEN US! I cannot tell you the joy I feel when a good friend whispers in my ear that he or she is expecting, when I see the miracle of a glowing woman with a round belly, read the thrilled social media post when that four month appointment comes and the doctor tells the prospective parents the gender of their little wonder, the dozens of pictures of the birth day, the announcement of the little one’s name, weight, and length, the month by month play of the child’s first year, the painful Lego moments and first days of school, the potty training triumphs and frustrations, the heartbreaks and joys of children growing up and becoming independent thinkers, and the list goes on. My life is completed by the diverse experiences of those whom I choose to surround myself with, and I hope I do the same for those who choose to allow me to surround them. 

So, DO NOT stubble awkwardly when you speak about your life, children and all. Be proud of who you are and what you have! Speak freely. Ask me how many kids I have, and when I say none don't look at me with pity or like I'm suffering. God has a plan for each of us. We each have a specific role to fill. My role is different than yours, this is how God intended it, and I thank God each day for the beautiful and miraculous life he has given me.

And the next time you walk past me with one of your adorable children and/or an Ancho Chicken Taco, hold tight to BOTH as I may be inclined to do a little neighborly “borrowing.”


Belinda grew up in San Diego, California as the oldest of 7 children (5 brothers and 1 sister). She moved to a small town in Utah while in high school and has never looked back. She received a Bachelor’s degree in Behavioral Science from Utah Valley University (UVU), a Master’s degree in Organizational Leadership from Gonzaga University, and is completing a Doctorate of Education in Interdisciplinary Leadership at Creighton University. Belinda is the Director of the internationally recognized Center for the Advancement of Leadership at UVU and an adjunct professor in the Woodbury School of Business and in Student Leadership Success Studies. Over the last several years Belinda has presented at professional conferences around the world including the most recent International Leadership Association Global Conference in Barcelona, Spain. In 2007 she married the handsomest, most charming, and hardworking man ever born. Together they have 23 nieces and nephews and live happily in a small brick home with two fireplaces and their pups, two miniature dachshunds named Doc and Pepper (like Dr. Pepper, Belinda’s favorite drink).

New Mom Monday, Intro

Hi there! My name is Libbie, and this is my daughter Winifred.

As you can tell by the bags under my eyes and the fact that my baby is wearing pajamas at a sushi restaurant, I am a young, hot, young first-time mom, and have been for eleven years... or five months, depending on whom you ask. I finally understand the theory of relativity and can watch Interstellar without having a breakdown.

Just to recap the past few months: the first few weeks were hard but wonderful, breastfeeding and colic sucked, I felt sad and lame, then we hit a rhythm where I was finally feeling better and Winifred was finally getting over feeling abandoned and totally freaking out any time I wasn’t holding her, but then she realized how dumb sleep is and I realized I was going to kill myself with anxiety if I didn’t start to “go with the flow.”

This past week, something completely magical happened. Every time she woke up at night or during the day, I was used to her screaming, “What… what… WHAT… WHAT?!” Then one day she was just like, “Oh dear, I seem to be awake now, how funny! I’ll just lie here and talk to myself for a bit.” My sweet baby went from a cranky, teething mess who spasmed between periods of unpredictable hyperactivity and unreliable sleepiness, to a delightful smiling cherub whose soft cankles sweet old women can’t help but stop and squeeze betwixt their fingers while she tells them all about her day in excited babbly squeals.

No matter how many times we go through these little growth spurts/phases/periods of hell, I keep forgetting this, so I want to have it on record for me and anyone else who needs it to remember: the baby you have this week will be gone the next. It is both comforting and sad. On the one hand, how exciting to watch them grow and play, and what a relief it is to see them learn to cope with everything they can’t do yet, and keep practicing so many new skills in such a short period of time; on the other, once they stop needing you to hold them while they fall asleep, will they ever need you for that again?

I personally have a tendency to get caught up in the stress of whatever difficult thing we are dealing with at the time, and I always feel like it will last forever. When she was first born and before we had her tongue-tie fixed, she would take an hour or two to nurse, so sometimes I would literally be nursing all day and all night. This is too much! I would think, When are we going to get to the part where it doesn’t hurt and I can do other things? How many years am I going to have to spend all day on my couch watching Project Runway re-runs? Now, she gets annoyed if she has nothing to look at but my weird boobs for longer than three minutes, and while she is so much fun and I even have time to brush my ever-thinning hair, I miss that period in our relationship when she was so content just quietly lying there on me for hours (and also, I miss Tim Gunn; what a delightful man).

It almost makes me want to have another baby so I can do it all again with the knowledge that it will end. Almost.

Every Monday, I’ll be chronicling the first year of my baby’s life. It will be short and sweet, I promise, and hopefully not make you want to break into my house, try on my clothes, raid my fridge, make a sandwich, make one for me too please, add avocado, yes I know it’s extra, steal my laptop, and run over it with your car so I can never post again.

Please don’t judge me too much, okay? I mean, a little is fine, but try to at least be nice about it. It’s what we mothers deserve.

 

Libbie Henrie is a new mother and really smart gal. You should believe everything she writes, especially the super sarcastic parts. She lives in Arizona with her husband and newborn baby. You can read more of her musings on her blog and follow her baby wearing adventures on Instagram @sweetcheeksbabywearing

 

Sarcasm

Recently I was at the middle school “teaching” a group of students about avoiding miscommunication. Middle School. Where miscommunication was incepted and nurtured. One girl raised her hand and lamented that she is most often misunderstood when she tries to write sarcasm in her texts. Ding Ding Ding. Do we have a prize for the young lady? So it will be for the rest of her days. Some people know you well enough to read the sarcasm intended and 90% of everyone else will be offended and/or unaware of your witticisms.

I could write 100 examples of times that my written sarcasm was misunderstood. It happened with friends, at work, online, and through text. I thought I had something especially clever to share and what was considered by me to be extremely witty and fun was received as rude, insensitive, or dumb. Maybe some if it WAS dumb, on further thought, but if those reading it just realized that it was meant to be light and witty, perhaps they would understand the intent and laugh a smidge.

Five years ago I remember reading some comment from someone somewhere like, “I wish there was a sarcasm font!” or something ;) (did you get that the winky-face meant that I was intentionally being dramatic and silly? No. Well, then you see that the winky-face is not all it is cracked up to be). So I thought about it and decided that I would come up with the very thing to solve all misunderstood sarcasm problems. (=puts on superhero cape=) I wrote a post on my blog in 2011 about WIT EQUALIZERS! echo echo echo. WIT EQUALIZERS! They were going to change the world… if only people would read it. Which, you know, they mostly didn’t. 

Then, just last month, I saw posted on a quasi-popular Instagram account a photo that read “I wish there was a sarcasm font!” or something. I thought about it, contemplated the WIT EQUALIZERS, slept a bit, ate some snacks, made my bed a few times, tried out a new Chinese restaurant, and then this morning saw some misunderstood sarcasm on Facebook and realized =NOW is the time to save humankind from the misinterpreting of wit!=

I can wait no longer. People often say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit. Pisha! It is my goal in life to change the perception of sarcasm. And to have it understood is my first mission. 

“Sarcasm is a clear sign of intelligence, sexual prowess, and a value to society.”
-Anna Macfarlane, Queen of Sarcasm.

Studies have even found that sarcastic people are more creative. Those in one study “demonstrated enhanced creativity following a simulated sarcastic conversation or after recalling a sarcastic exchange.” So sarcasm makes you smarter and more successful. It is not the lowest form of wit, it is imperative to the furthering of our society. 

Give sarcasm a chance. Use it well.

Use the = = around your witticisms so that the reader can understand your cleverness and intent.

Let’s =save the world together= with our written humor.

Pass it along, so others understand that your = = mean something. 

"I have had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." -Groucho Marx
Groucho Marx didn't need wit equalizers, but you, my friend, =are no Groucho Marx.=

People may still misunderstand your =hilarious commentary= even when you use the sarcasm equalizers. But the pressure is off you now. You used the wit equalizers, you let people know your intention was sarcastic. Let the chips fall where they may.

"I am not young enough to know everything." -Oscar Wilde
Oscar Wilde did not need wit equalizers, but you, my friend, =are no Oscar Wilde.=

Holiday Lip Sync Battle? YES PLEASE!

When I was eight years old, I would sit in the back of my Mom’s Suburban with a ballpoint pen in hand (my microphone, obviously) and lip sync to whatever was playing on the radio. I was CONVINCED that those in the cars next to us must have thought that I was RECORDING the music right then and there. They must have been so impressed.

Thanks to Jimmy Fallon bringing lip syncing back (yup!), millions of us can once again wield our “microphones” and lip sync without fear of embarrassment. 

Since I love holiday music and lip syncing and YOU love holiday music and lip syncing, I think it only makes sense to have a Holiday Lip Sync Battle. Yes? Yes!

Check out those battling HERE!

Here is how to enter:
1. Record a holiday lip sync—use any format, any amount of people, and however you want. I chose to use musical.ly, but you can record your lip sync however you like. Song must be HOLIDAY, so think Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years, SNOW, even.

2. Post a NEW video to Instagram—It must be posted from today (December 11) to the last day of battle (December 18). Your account must be set to public. I understand the need for private accounts, but for this battle, it is only fair to have all accounts be public. You can post more than once. 

3. Use the hashtag #TheWorstHolidayLipSyncBattle and tag both @kidsaretheworst and @thingsaretheworst in the CAPTION of your video. Not the comments, not a DM, but in the caption. 

4. Check out the hashtag and cheer on your fellow lip sync battlers with positive comments and likes. Spread the lip sync love!

But, Anna, what do I win?

Oh, dear friends, it wouldn’t be the holidays without a gift or two. And I am offering TEN winners a gift… or two. Shazam!

The first gift is what all holidays are chock-full of and that is THE REGIFT. Straight from my home to you, I will mail you a gift currently in my home. Who needs an ugly Christmas sweater when you can have an all-year ugly sweater that I have worn two times and decided it isn’t my color? Boom! Or how about that water belt I got when I was training for a marathon and then decided I didn’t want to run anymore so I never used it? Bam! Maybe you will win the box of popsicle molds that I meant to give my sister and forgot. Blammo! 

Who knows what you’ll win? Isn’t that so exciting? Isn’t that what the holidays are really about? I am excited to match my regifts to your videos.

And the second gift is legitimately cool: @babylitbooks is generously sending all ten winners a specially-made gift box with a tote, book, puzzle and ABC stroller cards. The BabyLit books have been a New York Times bestseller and are wildly popular.

Give it to your child, bring it as the best gift at the next baby shower, or if you are like me KEEP THEM for yourself because they are so adorable.

Winners will be announced December 21. Get lip syncing!

Meeting a new sister

When I had my second child, I was worried that the first would feel left out. Isn't that funny how we worry about potential reactions? So I bought my firstborn a gift to open for herself at the hospital when she met her new baby brother. I did the same thing for the two older kids when they came to visit my third baby, their new brother. By the time I had my fourth baby, I knew that the other kids would be getting enough treats from their grandparents at home while I labored at the hospital.

The reactions on these videos to the new siblings are priceless. Did your record your children meeting for the first time? I would love to see them.

And now I'm a puddle.

~Anna

Dry skin help FTW

My three boys have had dry, red skin every winter since they were babies. Their hands get super dry and rough, so bad sometimes that they end up licking the backs of their hands to get respite (which of course makes it more cracked). Their hands always end up bleeding sometime in the winter. It's so sad, really. They get other spots of eczema and dryness, but it is the back of their hands that are so extra tragic from all of the hand washing and use.

We have tried prescription lotions, homemade balms, natural remedies, oils, you name it. Sometimes they help a little, but often they cause discomfort and stinging. Or the smell is so strong and the little guys can't handle it. If it hurts or stinks, the whole process is a struggle every morning and night.

I was so glad to try out Mustela's Stelatopia line for eczema and dry skin. It is fragrance, colorant and paraben free, which is a huge plus when it comes to smell and discomfort. My boys use the cleanser at bath time and the creams before bedtime and before school. It makes such a difference in the dryness and cracking of their hands. Their eczema spots are relieved, as well. 

I just wish we had discovered Mustela's Stelatopia line sooner.

You can win one of two Eczema Essentials Bundles from Mustela ($52 each) by following them on Instagram and tagging a friend (or more) on our Instagram account under this picture:

Do your children struggle with eczema or really dry skin? Have you tried Mustela? I'd love to know what you have tried and what works for you.


*This post was sponsored by Mustela, but all of the opinions are 100% mine and true.

Halloween Vlog

Thanks for sharing your Halloween costumes and photos on Instagram and by email (kidsaretheworstest@gmail.com or thingsaretheworst@gmail.com)

Here are some of my favorites in vlog form. Let me know if you like the vlog on the blog. Be gentle. 

And, for the record, I don't mean to be inappropriate, so please pretend like nothing is inappropriate if you think it might be inappropriate. (yikes. hehehe)

Happy Halloween, mas and pas.

Anna

Mom Costume in a Jiffy

You've been working on your kids' costumes for a few weeks, maybe even a month or more. You bought all of the candy (and maybe a little more after some of the candy mysteriously disappeared) to give to the trick or treaters that come to your door. You decorated the inside of your home. The outside of your house looks fun and just spooky enough to keep the ghouls away. You've read the Halloween stories, picked up pumpkins, maybe even carved some, too. You've done a ton to get ready for Halloween.

But, wait! What about you? You love Halloween and don't want this year go by without dressing up. What are you going to do?

I have your costume for the year. Also one of my best ideas yet: AN ESCAPE VEHICLE. Every year it's the same, your kids are excited to fill their bags full of candy and you are excited to take them. Fueled by energy and a few dips in the recently-procured candies, you have made it ten blocks from home. AND THEN, your kids lose it. Complete meltdown. Their legs quit working, their costume is too hot/too cold, the last house was too scary... Halloween, as far as your children are concerned, is over. Where is your magic wand to zap you all back home? Drats, you forgot to bring it. So you carry your crying, exhausted child home, while their candy is spilling all over the sidewalks and your wig is falling off.

Escape vehicle, friends. Complete with blanket, maybe water bottles, and of course your skeleton. My escape vehicle this year is a Madsen Cycle. This thing is killer. I can't believe I have lived my life this long without one. But any bike with a basket or trailer could work, too. Or a golf cart? Escape vehicle. The two words that will save your Halloween this year and every year. 

I don't know why I was sporting the double chin so hard in this video. Luckily I am not TOO concerned. But still, let's meet in real life and you can see I'm not this ridiculous. Or am I?

Here's wishing you a Happy Halloween, to all mothers, fathers, children, grandparents, and all the rest of ya!
 

Anna

Guest post: Captain's Log

Captain’s log: What happens when Mom is left alone with three boys under six for five days. 

Three boys, one mom, five days, no dad. There are many strong humans who are used to this sort of thing and roll with the punches. For me, one soft with the presence of consistent reinforcements, it seemed like an eternity; every second brought a crumbling of my mental stature. 

While alone, I documented my condition through a series of logs shared via social media. The following is a transcript and photo-log of how I survived using the my life raft of sarcasm and my 72 hour kit of cynicism. 

Captain's log, Day 3 sans reinforcements: 

Captain can’t remember the last she changed her underwear. Found a band aid in hair this morning, not sure where it came from. Natives are growing restless, their access to sugar and screens is increasing dramatically.

Captain survives nights by watching too many episodes of Hoarders and eating unspeakable amounts of ice cream. 

Captain fears an uprising is imminent, and requests, if she perishes, to please bury her near a quiet bathroom so at least in the afterlife Captain can pee in peace.

Captain's log, day 4 sans reinforcements:

Shower managed, but at the expense of a box of Cheerios, the contents of which still remains ground into captain's new, expensive, and impulsively purchased wool area rug. 

Natives have learned 2 new swears, claiming captain yelled them at various natives throughout the day. Captain denies such claims. 

Morale is looking up as captain's extended family has sent pizza to the ship and crew and natives are now dining in peace. Captain’s motivation to cook meals is all but gone due to crushing fatigue and growing indifference to the ‘five servings of fruits and veggies a day’ rule.

Captain still seeks a quiet place to pee, as solitary urination has not yet been achieved.

Captain’s log, Day 5, help arrives:

Reinforcements have arrived, and not a moment too soon as natives had grown deaf to Captain's voice and anarchy was building. Her commands now make natives laugh and throw food. 

Order has been restored, but reinforcements may be sleeping on couch after complaining about free massage received on voyage.

Also, if reinforcements do not stop talking about luxury of 5-hour-long solo flight, Captain may be forced to feed natives diet coke and leave the house right before bedtime. 

Captain has, at last, peed alone.

 

"Cooking dinner with a toddler underfoot is always a blast." from Instagram @robynn.garfield

"Cooking dinner with a toddler underfoot is always a blast." from Instagram @robynn.garfield

Robynn Garfield has worked as a professional writer and journalist for 10 years. Her employment adventures have included KSL.com out of Salt Lake City, freelance work for NPR and CNN, and a fruit salad of writing projects featured in published anthologies, blogs (), and angry letters to the editor. 

Robynn currently stays at home with her three young boys. She staves off insanity by reading crap on the Internet and waiting longingly by the front door every night for her husband to come home.

Guest Post: Safety Third

My little family just got home from a lake day on our friends’ boat. With two toddlers, so… yeah. You can leave your congratulatory messages in the comments below.

They actually did really well, considering it was their first time. They were totally fine with zooming on the boat, and very adventurous when it came time to swim in the water. We had breakfast and lunch on the boat, with zooming, sunshine, and swimming in between. Both girls were completely wiped out by the time we left the lake.

The first thing we did was put life jackets on the girls, because we’re not dummies. They both wore them all day. But when we noticed Milly’s was so puffy she looked like she was wearing a car accident neck brace, we contemplated not zipping it all the way up, at least at first. Our friend said, “Safety first!” 

My reply? “Well, our motto is really more like ‘Safety Third.’ We usually say: Fun first, Comfort second, and somewhere after that is Safety. Probably third.”

While I was definitely trying to goad my friend into a playful argument, I also really meant it. I think safety is important, but I really don’t think it is the MOST important thing. Sometimes you get hurt while you’re doing something fun, and while it may be painful or inconvenient at the time, you end up with a great story (and possibly an interesting scar!) to tell for years to come.

That doesn’t mean that all safety precautions go out the window for the sake of fun. It’s just that when I weigh the risks versus benefits of an activity, I may put a little more emphasis on the benefits and a little less emphasis on the risks.

Milly doesn’t have to stay right by my side in a park. She needs the indepence time, my iPhone has a zoom function, and the benches at the edge of the park can be surprisingly comfy.

Milly does have to hold my hand in a parking lot. Duh.

Milly gets to ride on the ATV when we go look at our cows. But we go slow(ish), and really we’re just avoiding the uber-yucky ticks and chiggers.

Milly can talk to strangers at the bank.

Milly can ride on the back of the Walmart cart, no matter what that little seat flap in the front says.

Milly can’t jump on the couch. (Let’s be honest. I say that’s about safety, but it’s really because I want my couch to stay in decent condition.)

Milly doesn’t have to wear shoes in the yard, or sometimes not even on our country roads. Keeping Band Aid in business, singlehandedly.

Milly can climb on things that might tip over. What better way to learn about balance and risk?

Milly can play in the water when it rains so much our creek floods our road.

Milly gets to sample the driveway gravel from time to time. Hopefully one day she’ll agree with me that it is gross.

Milly gets to walk around the house with a blanket on her head. Yes, she always bumps into walls and furniture. 

Living with Safety Third as our motto isn’t always easy. I get worried, and it’s hard not to stop her from what may cause a scraped knee or stubbed toe. But like I keep saying to Milly’s various grandmas: She seems to be pretty happy, and she has yet to die or anything. So we’re going to stick with it for now.

PS: For those of you that have been worried throughout this entire post… we did keep the life jacket zipped up, all day. Feel free to breathe a sigh of relief.

Rhonda Fisher lives with her daughter and husband in the Tulsa, Oklahoma area, on a 40 acre farm filled with cows, horses, dogs, pigs, chickens, a peacock, a donkey, and a goat. Before her daughter Milly came along, Rhonda was a first grade teacher for 8 years. You can read more of her work on  http://insert-witty-blog-title-here.blogspot.com and https://www.crisispregnancyoutreach.org

10 Tips for Surviving Your Newborn

If you are like me, you started researching (on Pinterest) everything you could about pregnancy and babies the minute you thought you might want to start trying to convince your husband it was time to maybe think about the possibility of potentially getting pregnant. And you have read all the lists of things you need for those first few weeks of adjusting to life with a newborn, including those wonderful blessed frozen postpartum pads -- those are top notch and they are the very reason I’m glad the internet was invented before I had a baby.

Now that I myself am a highly-experienced mother, I thought I’d write up some of my own tips and tricks to keep you sane during a very emotional, sometimes really awful and achingly wonderful time in a new mother’s life.

Here they are. Feel free to Pin.

  1. Keep all your baby packing stuff and don't open anything quite yet. I bought too many things I thought I would need but really didn’t: a swaddler for a baby who will not stand for having her arms anywhere not above her head like a drunken sailor, pacifiers for a baby who finds the hard labor of sucking on something without the reward of food superfluous and wrong, and a set of bottles that I’m still praying someone else will be able to use to feed her one day. We’ve been able to return a lot of things we haven’t been able to use and get back some of them dollas.
     

  2. If you have your baby in the hospital, take home whatever you can. Staying in the hospital is rough, but if you have awesome night nurses like I did, they will send you home with pads the size of your newborn and special underwear that is so easy to put on and take off in the middle of the night when you are peeing with a semi-sleeping baby in one arm. You will need these things.
     

  3. Know where your nipples are. If you are breastfeeding, your nipples are precisely where multiple nurses and lactation consultants will shove your frail infant’s head as the two of you learn how to nurse, sometimes in the middle of the night when it is dark! And when you are both on your own at 3 am, this is where your sweet baby will bob around in frustration and then poop all over you. Be careful not to assume your nipples are somewhere else, which could be embarrassing after 20 minutes of trying to nurse in the wrong place --  they can be up high, to the side, down low, or too slow. Even if you are not breastfeeding, I think it is still valuable to know where your nipples are, so you can be more conscious of the sweet freedom you have (well, your boobs have at least) because of the miracle of formula.
     

  4. Carry around a big ol' cup of water everywhere you go. Which let’s be real, is really like one or two rooms in your house, am I right? Taking care of a baby is thirsty business, and by the time you can get a drink, you will be too tired or forget, so just have your water with you at all times.
     

  5. Wear a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks at night. A nice thick pair of socks will allow you to sleep anywhere without having to find a blanket, which lets you sleep an additional two minutes every time you pass out on the couch.
     

  6. Sleep when the baby sleeps; cry when the baby cries. Let it all out. Way back when I first became a mom (three weeks ago), I let myself cry in the shower and that was it. It felt wrong crying in front of the baby or while I was holding her. One night after her bath, she was not happy about being cold and was doing this terrifying shrieking shiver-cry, and after I put her diaper and lotion on as fast as I could, I wrapped her in my t-shirt and just lost it for like 45 minutes, because I’m a terrible mother who lets her baby get cold. SHE LOVED IT. I have never seen her so happy and at peace as when I was bawling and telling her how sorry I was. Then she fell into a deep slumber and dreamed she was an ancient Sumerian princess who sentenced her useless servant to death for not running her bath properly. I don’t know what this means but she really is a sweet girl.
     

  7. Speaking of sleep, don't Google anything unless you have had at least two hours of it. If you are really concerned about something, wait until you are rested enough to differentiate between good and bad advice on the internet and not get more anxious than you were before. Better yet, call your pediatrician’s office and avoid the internet crazies altogether.
     

  8. Again with the sleep--let your "partner" sleep through the night. Listen, your “significant” other is probably going to sleep through the night anyway. You might as well get to be the martyr the next day who stayed up with the baby so he or she could get some “much needed” rest. Also, I prefer to have someone well-rested and not cranky to help me the next day than someone to sit there and watch my slow descent into another meltdown when the baby won’t go to sleep.
     

  9. Laugh at your baby. Babies are little weirdos. Being able to make fun of their little comb-overs and how drunk they look after they eat are the only rewards you’re going to get for a while.
     

  10. Be proud of yourself. You’re doing your best. After being pregnant for TEN months, pushing another body out of your body, then not being able to walk very comfortably for a couple of weeks while you are still healing, just attempting to keep an infant alive is more work than many people are willing to do. Instead of putting yourself down when something/everything isn’t working, learn what you can and move on.

I’m still having some trouble with breastfeeding, but when I’m an expert at that in a few weeks I’ll be sure to share what I’ve learned.

Cheers,
Libbie

Libbie Henrie is a new mother and really smart gal. You should believe everything she writes, especially the super sarcastic parts. She lives in Arizona with her husband and newborn baby. 

23 Signs Your Older Child Isn't QUITE Grown Up Yet

By Robyn Welling

From the time they're old enough to proudly call themselves a "big kid," children can't wait to be all grown up. That's why we play "store" and "house" and dress-up as young kids. It's why we claim we can't wait to move out and get a place of our own during our teen years. It's why we act like we know EVERYTHING, starting at about age 13 when we actually know nothing, until about age 28 — when we still don't know anything, but at least we realize what idiots we are.

If you have an older kid strutting around the house acting all like, You can't tell me what to do, I'm practically an ADULT! here are a few signs that, whether they feel like they're all grown up or not, they're so, so not all grown up.

23 SIGNS YOUR OLDER CHILD ISN'T QUITE ALL GROWN UP YET

  1. They rely on you to unclog the toilet.

  2. You still pay their cell phone bill.

  3. You have to remind them to change their underwear.

  4. Which you know they haven't been changing because you still do their laundry.

  5. They've never experienced the joy of comparing auto insurance quotes.

  6. They keep their money in a piggy bank.

  7. You schedule all their doctor appointments.

  8. They ask you to scratch their back at bedtime.

  9. Um, they have a bedtime.

  10. You're their alarm clock.

  11. They brush their teeth daily, but only because you tell them to.

  12. There's never anything practical on their Christmas list.

  13. They assume "401k" is the name of some boy band.

  14. Their description of adulthood often involves ordering pizza as often as they want.

  15. They need a ride to the mall.

  16. Or they drove themselves to the mall... in the car they borrowed from you.

  17. And they still actually enjoy driving, because the fun hasn't been sucked out of it yet by being everyone's on-call chauffeur for 20+ years NOT THAT WE'RE SICK OF IT OR ANYTHING.

  18. You can still fit the right number of candles on their birthday cake.

  19. They've never voluntarily eaten a cereal with the word "bran" in the name.

  20. They'll sit there and sniffle until you tell them to go blow their nose, like Kleenex is a new invention they keep forgetting about.

  21. You can remember the last time you blew on their food to cool it off.

  22. They mow the grass for money — unlike adults who do it, you know, because the grass is long.

  23. They still want to be an adult. Actual adults already know it's way overrated.

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Robyn Welling is a freelance writer and humorist at Hollow Tree Ventures, where she isn't afraid to embarrass herself—and frequently does. She's Associate Editor at Scary Mommy, and a freelance writer, editor and graphic designer for sites like NickMom, Mommy Shorts, 22 Words and The Huffington Post. She loves sarcasm, wine, beer, other bottled items, long walks on the beach, and her husband. Oh, and her five kids are okay, too. Her goals include becoming independently wealthy, followed by world domination and getting her children to clean their rooms. Until then, she'll just fold laundry and write about the shortcuts she takes on her journey to becoming a somewhat passable wife, mother, and human being; if history is any guide, she'll miss the mark entirely. You can find her avoiding responsibility on Facebook, Twitter,Instagram and Pinterest.