MOMSERVATIONS™

FYI GOODY BAG

2010-06-01T19:59:00Z

Momservation: Survival is the mother of mompreneurs.

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Mindy in her Annie & Isabel hospital gown with baby Joey

My girlfriend, Mindy, just had her third child – that hold-out boy who finally decided he’d join the team.

Since it’s been nine years since I was in her swollen-ankle filled shoes I didn’t realize mommy/infant survival gear had come so far. Beyond still needing Daddies with mammary glands, it surprises me that everything hadn’t already been thought of.

First, a girlfriend of mine who’s a registered nurse with four boys decided there was no reason a mom in the maternity ward (or any woman in the hospital) couldn’t be comfortable in a practical, CUTE hospital gown. So she and her sister came up with Annie & Isabel – The stylish alternative to a hospital gown (http://annieandisabelblog.blogspot.com ).

Amazingly, it was a niche that needed to be filled, and with all things mom tested and mother approved, it is taking off as word is quickly spreading.

Of course, I had to have one for my friend Mindy! Not only did she love her “Annie” gown and the opportunity to look somewhat put together in all the first baby photos, it was also the hit of the Sutter Hospital maternity ward.

Once Mindy brought little Joey home, she put him in this contraption I would’ve given my left kidney for back in the desperate days of my children’s infancy. I literally had five “stations” I would move the kids between to try to keep both them and me happy – bouncy seat, swing, Baby Bjorn, Johnny Jump-Up and the Exersaucer.

At the time I thought that baby gear was pure genius. But to steal from Emeril Lagasse, they’ve “kicked it up a notch.”

This Fisher-Price Cradle Swing had a built in mobile and mirror, natural sound effects and music, it went in all different directions at six different speeds – this baby looked so happy in there I wanted to crawl in the swing myself.

Fisher-Price Cradle Swing

But wait! There’s more. I was at a Giggle store this weekend and they had a bouncy seat created by moms called the Mamaroo Bouncer. It too had unique motions with actual names like Car Ride, Kangaroo, Tree Swing, Rock-A-Bye, Ocean Wave. It also had the built in mobile and natural sound effects. But with this one you could plug it to your iPod to create a young music aficionado!

You know how many times I strapped my son, Logan, in the Baby Bjorn, cranked up Train’s “Meet Virginia” and vacuumed the house just to create the soothing environment this one machine does? If the Mamaroo Bouncer can add a “vacuum the house” feature these women will be gazillionaires.

Mamaroo Bouncer

Okay, one last thing. I’m a big fan of tips lists to boil down the basics of parenting. Make it something I can quickly read on the toilet to improve my life and you’ve got my attention.

So here’s a good one from Susan Diamond, a licensed speech and language pathologist with over 25 years experience in diagnosing and treatment of children with language disorders. She contacted me with what I thought was some very valuable information for all of us mothers worried about developmental milestones (is there any other mother?).

Click here for her Social Skills Tips and if you’d like to read more her book, 100 SOCIAL RULES FOR KIDS, comes out this fall.

Enjoy the journey and welcome to your fantastic new family Joseph Dante!

FURLOUGH FROM FIDO

2010-05-26T15:03:00Z

Momservation: Love may conquer all, but sleep deprivation puts up a mighty fight.

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My little satellite dish, Darby

Took Darby the dog in yesterday to get spayed. I felt bad for inflicting surgery upon her without her consent and depriving her of motherhood (I’m thinking she will thank me later for keeping her from becoming the next 19 Kids and Counting).

All that guilt went away, though, the second I stepped back into my quiet, peaceful house. It was a California furlough day from my current job (add it to the list) of being a puppy mom. And it was glorious.

I had a one day reprieve from the “Twelve Days of Christmas” version of WAHM with an energetic Labrador Retriever puppy. Sing along with me:

♪ One long walk...

two games of Where’s Your Squirrel?...

three interventions from drinking out of the toilet…

four demands to get out of the kitchen or off the table…

five games of Chase You With Your Chicken…

six requests to drop retrieved shoes/socks/stuffed animals/underwear…

seven training exercises with treats…

eight games of shove the squeaker toy in my lap…

nine games of Fetch…

ten lapses in supervision…

which led to 11 chewed up household items…

12 trips up and down to let the dog in and out of the house ♫

Sound familiar toddler moms?

So I had a day of unrestricted free agency. I tasted again the sweet freedom of an empty house. I got a well-needed break from the rigors of being a hands-on parent. But you know what? I still picked up the dog instead of telling them to keep the little underwear sniffer.

Happens every time. Just when you’re ready to put them up for auction on eBay, their sweet little faces, charming playfulness and easy, unconditional love sucks you back in.

Either that or seeing your poor little fuzz-butt in an anesthesia induced stupor and pathetic cone encasing her head will do it.

WHAT'S YOUR MOM I.Q.?

2010-05-18T21:36:00Z

Momservation: When all else fails, go with Goldfish crackers.

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Jacob Hall, finally tall enough to ride Disneyland's Thunder Mountain Railroad

Today I reunited with my “Tale of Two Mommies” co-author and fellow overextended mother, Jen Hall, to create for you a pop quiz of your mom expertise.

Don’t worry if you’re a newly minted mom, seasoned grandmother, or even a Dad – if you don’t already know this stuff, long forgotten it, or have done your share of diaper duty, you will quickly learn it in order to stay top of the food chain.

So grab a pencil to record your answers and tally your score and let’s see what your MOM IQ is!

1. Who are Dorothy, Wheezy and Rosie?

2. List the type of diapers you will need to bring if you are going on an overnight trip to the beach with a toddler.

3. What are the ratings for Nintendo video games?

4. What are the height requirements at Disneyland for Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Indian Jones and the Matterhorn Bobsleds?

5. What are the progressive stages of stroller ownership?

6. Name at least ten items you will vacuum out from under your car seats.

7. Name at least ten items that will be found missing under your car seats.

8. Name the main characters from “Hannah Montana,” “Wizards of Waverly Place,” “iCarly,” and “Suite Life on Deck.”

9. Name the infraction that will get a mother to permanently turn laundry duties over to a child who has been repeatedly warned.

10. What are the three diversions necessary for a successful restaurant outing with a young child?

11. What four things can you take away as punishment to make your teenager hate you?

12. What meal can be served so that everyone in the family will be happy with it?

ANSWERS

1. Elmo’s fish on Sesame Street’s Elmo’s World, one of the two headed dragons on Dragon Tales, and the little sister on Cailou. (2 pts each or 3 pts if you at least knew they were characters from those annoying PBS shows)

2. Regular diapers, swim diapers, overnight diapers. (2 pts each – bonus 2 pts if you throw in the Pull-up diapers to stick with potty training consistency)

3. EC = Early Childhood, E = Everybody, E+10 = Everyone 10 and older, T = Teen, M = Mature, AO = Adults Only (2 pts each – 1 pt if you cheated and looked at a game case or on the internet)

4. Big Indiana Jones – 46 in., Matterhorn Bobsleds – 35 in. (2 pts each. An extra point if you’ve stuffed your kids shoes with tissue or styled a puffy hair-do so your child was tall enough to ride. 5 bonus pts. if you have the Mousewait.com app on your phone that tells you height requirements, wait times and daily schedules for Disneyland rides).

5. Infant carrier stroller, regular stroller, double stroller, travel stroller, jogger, umbrella stroller. (2 pts each. Bonus 5 pts if you said, “heck with it all” and got rid of everything in favor of the cheap and most reliable umbrella stroller. Minus 5 pts. if you are beyond strollers and still have all these in your garage rafters.)

6. (1 pt. for each of these or anything you’ve actually sucked up). Goldfish, Cheerios, Fruit Loops, Legos, Polly Pockets, french fries, crayons, Nintendo DS game chips, assorted candy, hair clips/ties, wrappers – gum, candy, granola bars, etc, pen tops, water bottle tops, juice box straws, raisins, used Kleenex, Happy Meal toys…

7. (1 pt. for each of these or anything you’ve actually lost and then found). Shoe (includes baseball and soccer cleats, flip flops, sandals or any other shoe that looking for it made you late or go out and re-buy them), homework, sippee cup or bottle (bonus pt. for congealed milk), DVD, balls, card from a deck of cards, Nintendo DS, sweatshirt, uniform, sock, jelly bracelet, binky, lunch money, lunch box…

8. HM – Hannah Montana/Miley Steward and Robby Steward, Jackson, Lily, Oliver and Rico; WWP – Alex, Justin, Jack, Jerry and Theresa Russo and Harper; iC – Carly and Spencer Shay, Samantha, and Freddie; SLD – Zack and Cody Martin, London, Bailey, Mr. Moseby (1 pt for each name, 2 pts if you knew the last names too but you probably shouldn’t admit that).

9. Putting folded, clean laundry back in the dirty clothes hamper. (3 pts. Bonus 5 pts if your kids are doing laundry because they wouldn’t turn their socks and underwear right-side-in or found a dead animal/insect in the pocket)

10. Snack, drink and toy. (2 pts each. Bonus 5 pts. if you’ve never had to leave a restaurant because of a crying baby or melting down child.)

11. Phone, computer, TV, car. (2 pts. each. Bonus 5 pts if you didn’t give in early to the restriction time to make your life easier again.)

12. A meal ordered from a restaurant - so Mom doesn’t have to cook or clean and everyone can pick what they want. (5 points. Minus 2 pts. for the easy-out of pizza).

SCORE

140-80 Congratulations - you’ve been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and ain’t nobody knows more than you when it comes to basically anything worth knowing! You are never caught without sunscreen or baby wipes.

79-23 Don’t worry – you still know enough to make it look like you know what you’re doing. A few more years under your belt or one day at the park with other moms and you’ll be up to speed. You at least always have Goldfish and know when to forget the groceries and just leave the store.

22-0 It’s not too late – Not sure where you’ve been, but it hasn’t been with the kids. It’s time to lighten up, jump in and enjoy the journey. Your car is too clean, your life too structured and you could really use a Happy Meal.

MOMMY DITCHES MOTHER'S DAY

2010-05-12T19:07:00Z

Momservation: Forget Mother’s Day - you’re never more appreciated as a mom than when everyone runs out of clean underwear.

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http://news.cnnbcvideo.com/?nid=UjOYNeWGiFjCvWmDVg50izc4MTkwMjM-&referred_by=15587401-aAAb_4x&p=moveon

▲The fantasy and ▼reality of Mother’s Day

So the family came out of the gates strong on Mother’s Day.

If you exclude the fact that I was supposed to get a reprieve from waking up at O-God-thirty with the puppy and denied my request of wanting to just be left alone.

“Don’t you want to be with your family on Mother’s Day? Without them you wouldn’t be a mother,” Hubby had rationalized. He was just scared of working without a net.

I did get the Sunday paper and breakfast in bed – always a treat.

After I read through the old papers waiting for someone to get up and get it for me and orchestrating another meal because nobody knew what to make.

I did get some beautiful homemade cards and a sweet gift bracelet.

After pretending to ignore the flurry of last minute card making and not getting what I really wanted – my potted plants put in the ground before they continued to die waiting for me to find free time. They’re dead now.

But the good news is Hubby got his lawns mowed like he wanted before it rained! Unfortunately, our plan of going to the river as a family afterward was washed out.

And it continued to go down hill from there.

Hubby kept pestering me about what I wanted for dinner before I finally said, “What I want for dinner is to not have to think about what’s for dinner.”

Then, during my self-imposed exile in bed since I wasn’t allowed to ditch my family Hubby comes in and asks incredulously, “Aren’t you bored?”

“Not at all,” I said sipping my hot chocolate, reading my paper and enjoying not being needed. “Shut the door behind you please.”

Finally, the kids started fighting. Hubby obviously was about to snap from the strain of one day of being obligated to pamper me. So I decided to remove myself from the situation and do what I really wanted to do.

I went to the movies by myself.

Before I left, when the kids saw me finally emerge from my zone of tranquility, they zipped over to me unable to resist the pull of needing Mommy to do something.

“Can we make cookies?”

“Sure,” I said. “Daddy will help you.” And then I left.

The movie was great. The popcorn was delicious. The soda and candy a guilty pleasure. The solitude among strangers was absolute bliss.

There was even a part in the movie, Date Night, where the wife character tries to explain to her skeptical husband that her true fantasy didn’t involve sex, but simply escaping to a hotel where she could be left alone and maybe enjoy a Sprite.

“Exactly!” I shouted at the screen.

When I came home dinner was ready, I didn’t have to argue with anyone to set the table and I didn’t have to fight with anyone to help clean up. I simply got to enjoy the pleasure of my family’s company and a meal I didn’t have to plan, cook or clean up after.

And the homemade, a bit too salty, chocolate chip cookies for dessert was a strong finish to a valiant try at hosting the perfect Mother’s Day.

BRUSSELS SPROUT REVENGE

2010-05-04T18:58:00Z

Momservation: If it’s not on the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon does it really exist?

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Dedication page from MOMSERVATIONS™ - THE FINE PRINT OF PARENTING

I have never been so glad to have just had my hair colored.

Found out yesterday that I will be appearing on Good Day Sacramento Thursday, May 6 at 8 a.m. to promote my book, MOMSERVATIONS™ - THE FINE PRINT OF PARNETING!

I was pretty excited about this, so after calling Hubby, my mom, Dad, MIL and texting my brother and SIL I was anxious to tell my kids the cool news. Meeting them after school I eagerly told them mommy was going to be on TV talking about the new book.

First reaction? They wanted to know if they got to get out of school for it.

Great – my success has been reduced to a Get Out of School Free card.

“No, I’ll DVR it for you,” I said a little deflated.

“Who’s going to take us to school then?” Whitney, 9, wanted to know.

“I don’t know – Daddy, Nana, Grampa. We’ll figure it out,” I quickly said before trying to get back to the more important subject. “So what do you think of Mommy being interviewed on TV about her book?” I looked at them, big anticipated grin on my face waiting to receive an appropriate reaction.

“Cool," said Logan, 10, like I just told him carrots are a good source of Vitamin A. “Can I go play at the park now?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” I said releasing him from any more obligated fake enthusiasm.

I turned to Whitney, hoping for one more shot at a little fan appreciation. “So Whit, pretty cool, huh? The ol’ Mom-moo on TV!”

Whitney nodded then excitedly said, “Hey, did you know Logan got three treats after school because there were three birthdays in his class! He’s so lucky…”

I tried to have no hard feelings about my kids’ lack of support and enthusiasm for my alter ego – working mommy. But not naming any names, someone might have served brussels sprouts for dinner in a little petty act of revenge.

MOMSERVATIONS™ - THE FINE PRINT OF PARENTING is currently available for $12.95 at Casey’s Hallmark (Arden Way in the Whole Foods shopping Center), Total Beauty Experience (2929 Arden Way), Goore's (2700 Marconi Ave)www.Amazon.com and www.kellimwheeler.com

MOMMY INTERRUPTED

2010-04-28T19:39:00Z

Momservation: It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve accomplished, if you don’t have milk for cereal or ran out of syrup for pancakes, your kids are not impressed.

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MOMSERVATIONS book signing at Casey's Hallmark.

So the book signing went well despite circumstances that threatened to derail it.

Namely, having an emergency supply of books shipped because the original shipment didn’t show up in time.

Also, worrying that I would run out of emergency books and I would have an angry mob start pelting me with the complimentary sweet tarts I provided.

Fortunately, I had enough books and was absolutely tickled that there was a steady stream of people eager for their autographed copy of MOMSERVATIONS.

This was great because I was worried I would be left with nothing to do except point people in the right direction of First Communion greeting cards. I like to think these first purchasers of my book will one day have the great dilemma of whether or not to keep their priceless keepsake or sell it at Sotheby’s for millions of dollars.

That aside, there was a larger catastrophe that almost ruined Book Signing Day:

There was no syrup for the pancakes!!!

Who cares that I had an adoring audience assembling for my arrival? Life is not worth living, apparently, if you can’t start it with homemade pancakes and syrup.

So in a moment of crystal clear clarity that I am Mom first and author second, I postponed my shower to run to the store to get syrup. Walking back in with beloved Aunt Jamima, I was again a notable member of the family worthy of reverence.

And what did the kids think of Mommy when Hubby brought them by the book signing later?

They thought the sweet tarts were okay, Skittles would’ve been better and if I wasn’t taking them to baseball practice, who was?

IT'S HERE!

2010-04-21T19:00:00Z

Momservation: Doesn’t matter how successful you are or become, to your kids all that matters is that you are there for them.

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Momservations™ Book Signing Saturday, April 24

Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying the journey with me! Please join me this weekend for the official release of my book, Momservations™ - The Fine Print of Parenting, Saturday, April 24, 12:30-4:30 p.m. at Casey's Hallmark, 4379 Arden Way (in the Whole Foods shopping center).

As a thank you to my loyal readers, I will offer a free book with a two book purchase to the first five people who come to the book signing this Saturday and says to me, “Kids are the caramel on the big apple of life.”

HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM

2010-04-13T20:43:00Z

Momservation: I think my kids are going to become astronauts because there is nothing left on this earth for them to fight about.

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Air-bags were really invented by a mother to keep kids from fighting over the front seat of car.

(from Momservations™- The Fine Print of Parenting)

You know as much fun as kids can be, sometimes they can really suck the fun out of things.

Bring them down to the river to look for ladybugs and they start arguing over who gets to hold the jar. Soon it becomes a one-upmanship to see who has caught the most ladybugs.

“I’ve got 15!”

“Oh yeah, well I got 17!”

“No you didn’t because three flew away when you tried to put them in the jar, so I’m ahead!”

“You’re a cheater! Mom!”

Take the kids to get ice cream and soon it’s a showdown over who gets to order first, who’s got three licks more ice cream, whose flavor tastes better.

“Mint chip is the best!”

“Mint chip’s boring. Chocolate fudge brownie is way better.

“You’re a do-do.”

“You’re a ding-dong.”

“Mom!”

I’m pretty much ready to cancel Family Movie Nights because it traditionally starts with an argument over which movie to rent:

“I want to see Monsters vs. Aliens.”

“We’ve already seen that. I want to see Sandlot.”

“Well we’ve already seen that 50 bazillion-jillion times. No way!”

“Mom!”

Followed by a wrestling match in the kitchen over who captains the popcorn machine:

“It’s my turn to dump the popcorn!”

No it’s my turn!”

“Mom!”

Finishing with me shutting off the movie early because someone won’t stop touching someone or quit hogging the covers:

“Mom, tell Logan to stop touching his pinky toe to me!”

“Mom, tell Whitney to get her hair off my side of the bed!”

It’s times like these, when the kids suck the fun out of what should’ve been a nice family moment, that I end up shouting:

“You know I don’t have to be doing this! I could be doing something a lot more fun by myself – like cleaning bathrooms or folding laundry!”

To which the kids know they’ve really crossed the line now and immediately fall into order.

The latest inconsequential argument to take the cake though was over the release of my book, Momservations™- The Fine Print of Parenting this week.

“What do you think kids?” I excitedly asked expecting some praise for the ol’ Mom-moo.

“I’m on the cover and you’re not! Ha Ha!”

“I don’t want to be on the dumb cover. You look like a ding-dong on it anyway.”

“Mom!”

Next book I’m putting a picture of them both naked in the bathtub on the front cover.

HOW DO I LOVE THEE - LET ME GET AN AIR PUMP

2010-04-06T23:42:00Z

Momservation: If everyone expressed their love like kids and dogs the world would be a better place.

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Logan, 10, and the girl who is the "air in my soccer ball"

My son, Logan, is ten years old and every inch of him - as evidenced by his dirt-stained calloused hands - is all boy.

He loves soccer, dirt-bike riding, playing outside, always wearing his favorite 49er jersey even if it’s filthy, and jumping off things like a Ninja with his best friend Brodie.

Don’t let the Mohawk fool you though, he’s as sweet and sensitive as a chick-flick.

He loves his mommy like nobody’s business, his teachers adore him for his kindness, he’ll tell his sister she looks nice if she really does, and he’s never in short supply of giggling girls who think he’s the sweetest thing.

He, however, in true boy fashion thinks girls – in the sense of object of affection - are pretty much icky. He has no clue that all these girls would melt on the spot and their hearts would be forever his if their BFF relayed this message to them from him:

“She is the air in my soccer ball.”

If you are unversed in the lingo of ten year-old boy this, my friends, is the highest declaration of love that can ever be uttered.

And if you were a ten year-old girl who just heard this from Logan, you would know he truly, madly, deeply loves you.

But fear not young lassies, he has not finally singled one of you out from amongst the others.

Though I did overhear this declaration of love while he had a young lassie wrapped firmly in his embrace, his face snuggled next to hers with kisses being showered on her ear, there is no need to despair of his love for Darby.

Unless you fear you can’t compete with a puppy.

Actually, in ten year-old boy time frame, you can’t. Hang tight until he’s a teenager.

SPRING BREAK DISASTER PREPAREDNESS

2010-03-31T16:39:00Z

Momservation: Once you have kids Spring Break becomes a break from your sanity on the road trip of being driven crazy.

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The birthday girl's invitation picture

I have the perfect storm for losing your sanity brewing this Spring Break.

First, I have a cold front of kids out of school with rain predicted the entire week.

It’s colliding with the warm front of my daughter’s 9^th birthday falling on Easter causing me to essentially juggle two major holiday celebrations in one week.

Throw into the mix a high pressure situation of having 9 & 10 year-olds who still believe in the magic of the Easter Bunny and you’ve got a mom who’s going to lose it on a grand scale.

It’s making the twister of a new puppy and the destruction she’s leaving behind look like a tip-toe through the tulips.

The good news is I have some experience with this level of disaster.

There was the Summer of ’07 when I miscalculated the effects of too much fun and was saved just in time by The First Day of School from death by exhaustion.

There was also the Kindergarten/Pre-School Disaster of 2005-06.

That was the year I counted on catching a much-needed break from the rigors of childcare with both my kids being in school at the same time. Instead, my kids were put on opposite schedules reducing my childless time to 7 minutes (in the car shuttling between pick-up/drop-off). My giddy anticipation of free time was ripped from me like someone stealing a life-jacket off my back and I almost drowned that year in the Sea of Overwhelmed.

But I survived those challenges to my mental and physical well-being and I will survive this too!

I will pull out my Mommy Disaster Preparedness Kit (includes a blanket of patience, rations of positive attitude, and plenty of Starbucks to recharge my batteries).

I will map out a plan for survival which includes not being afraid to call friends and family for help.

Most importantly though, I will fortify my resolve and remind myself I signed up for this trip. I can just hang on and try to survive it, or I can throw my hands in the air and enjoy the journey knowing I’ll come out a better mom for it.

Just in case though, send someone to check on me if you don’t hear from me on Monday…

DIAPER BAG CHRONICLES

2010-03-23T20:13:00Z

Momservation: It’s not the size of your diaper bag that matters, it’s what’s in it.

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I’ll always remember the day my daughter, Whitney, was born. Because two years to the day after she was born I got rid of the diaper bag for good and celebrated by buying a new purse.

Go ahead and laugh, but you always remember the day you got to trade your pack-mule hump for a trendy purse again.

It’s been more than seven years since I’ve had to tote around a survival pack of diapers, wipes, Desitin®, changing pad, extra onsies, clothes, and Bob the Builder underwear, sippie-cups, Goldfish®, bottles, formula dispenser, Cheerios® dispenser, back-up carseat clip, sunscreen, Mylicon® drops, burp cloths, teething rings and favorite toys.

I still get a tear in my eye remembering the joy of being set free from the weathered pack of infant/toddler gear (actually an REI backpack chosen for its gender neutral coloring –for Daddy toting - and quick-serve sippie-cup holders built in to the front).

It was Monday, March 31, 2003 and Whitney had kept her underwear dry for over a week (as noted in her baby book – unfortunately her last entry). I didn’t want to jinx it by saying it aloud, so I sent a note to my husband across the dinner table. It read:

IF WHITNEY MAKES IT TO THURSDAY KEEPING HER PANTS DRY, I THINK WE CAN DITCH THE DIAPER BAG.

Hubby looked up at me, arched an uncertain eyebrow, then scribbled something back. It said:

ARE YOU SURE WE’RE READY FOR THIS?

I nodded. One more check that my 2 and 3 ½ year olds were still busy getting spaghetti everywhere except in their mouths, then I wrote back:

YOU’RE WATCHING THE KIDS FRIDAY. I’M GOING PURSE SHOPPING.

See, tears again! It really was a life-changing experience.

I still have that purse – a beautiful, chocolate leather Jack Georges shoulder bag with handle option – and it will always be ranked up there in nostalgia with first kiss, first love, and first car.

Even though the purse still has Goldfish crumbs crushed in the bottom and the scent of fermented apple juice. Despite the Dora the Explorer and Bob the Builder emergency underwear, wipes, favorite toys, sippie cups, sunscreen, extra car seat clip and bribery candy stretching it out a bit, it still looks great!

GO AHEAD CALL US LOSERS

2010-03-17T17:52:00Z

Momservation: Nobody wants to be picked last for a team, but it’s the underdog who is given the gift of motivation without the pressure of expectation.

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The lovable loser underdogs who won the Jr. WNBA 3rd/4th Grade Girls Championship at Arco Arena on March 15, 2010

I don’t care who you are, everyone wants to be on a winning team.

You can say “winning isn’t everything,” “we’re all winners here,” or “it’s not who wins but how the game is played” and other inspiring sound bites that are all good in theory.

But the fact is NO ONE walks around saying, “Boy, I hope we really get our a**es handed to us,” “Let’s go out and lose this thing!” or “Man, I hope I stink this up like 10 year-old boy’s soccer cleats.”

Call it basic instinct and the drive for survival of the fittest, call it faithful that hope springs eternal, or call it what it is – the desire to be showered with adulation and glory and hearing “We Are the Champions” as your theme song - it just feels good to win.

Which leads me to children’s sporting teams. Whether your kids are good athletes or not, when you sign them up for a sport your hope is they’ll be on a good team. Either their skill and talent will be supported with equal talent or high tide will raise all boats and your child will come away more well-rounded.

Unfortunately for the Wheeler Family, I think on sign-up day when the volunteer asks what size uniform my child needs they hear instead, “Please put my child on the lousiest team you can assemble.”

Seriously. Save a year of soccer a-piece, even with my own husband coaching, we have had more Bad News Bears teams than the Sacramento Kings.

But wait – here’s the kicker: Three of those teams have gone on to win the championship!

Call it peaking at the right time, finally pulling it all together, or Mommy paying off the ref (tempting, but the accusations are baseless), these teams went from not being able to win if the game was forfeited to shocking upsets for the whole enchilada!

The most recent, my daughter’s last seed Jr. WNBA basketball team, just won the 3^rd/4^th grade girls division championships at Arco Arena Monday!

And yes, they played “We Are the Champions.” And yes, it felt fabulous to hear their ecstatic glass-breaking screams and see their exuberant faces.

And I don’t care who you are, the calm, cool parent who embraces “it’s all just a game” to the parent who shouts, “Would you just sign your kid up for the Chess Club already?!” - seeing your child blossom as an athlete in one amazing season to win a nail-biter championship?

It’s right up there with finding two prizes in your box of Cracker Jacks.

Because even though losing may build character, winning sure is a heck of a lot more fun.

ACTS OF COURAGE

2010-03-10T18:41:00Z

Momservation: There’s no such thing as friends and family when it comes to getting a good seat at your child’s school talent show.

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That's my kid! I gave birth to her! That's all the credit I can take for her talent.

I was so stinkin’ proud it brought me to tears.

Not just for my kid, but every kid up there at the Mariemont Elementary Talent Show.

From the kindergartner who lisped his way through an unintelligible poem, and the pigtailed baton troop dropping batons left and right, to my own eight year-old daughter, Whitney, who I was worried hadn’t prepared enough.

But when Whitney stepped on stage I realized she was born ready.

As I watched with absolute pride, Whitney brought the house down shimmying, shaking and singing to Smash Mouth’s “All Star.” No help from Mom – my suggestions and sample dance moves were cast aside like a baby Barney video. It wasn’t Whitney’s vocal skills that made her shine – unfortunately she did get that from Mom.

But it didn’t matter. What she lacked in vocal talent she made up for in confidence and charisma.

God love her, whose kid was that up there? My friends may know me now as a gregarious, fun-loving personality but it took a lifetime to reach this comfort in my own skin. And even though Hubby is an easy-going natural comedian he would’ve rather had you pin him down and make him listen to Jonas Brothers CD’s before ever dreaming of taking a risk like that as a kid.

And that’s what I absolutely loved about all the kids up on that stage. Instead of balking in the face of potential public ridicule from peers and parents alike, these kindergarten through sixth graders soared on the wings of courage determined to put on a show.

Who cares that there were missed steps, warbled keys, cringe-worthy notes and jokes that fell flat?

These kids rocked the house just because they had the guts to stand up there under the spotlight of scrutiny and choose to shine instead of hiding in the shadows of uncertainty.

They were true acts of courage regardless of talent.

Although, I must say, I think my Itty-Bitty-Whitty-Little-Girl-So-Pretty stole the show!

Okay, maybe she didn’t steal the show, but if that kid with the amazing karate skills had dropped one of his swords, she could’ve nudged him for the title.

Stay tuned for the YouTube video I’ll post after tonight’s encore performance! Or not. Just realized my apparently prehistoric digital camera came with a useless USB port and no uploading capabilities. Looks like I'm off to get a new video camera...

LAUNDRY AS A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION

2010-03-02T21:19:00Z

Momservation: Is there any other animal species that will turn their offspring's stinky, crusty socks inside-out for them on laundry day?

☺☺☺

I don’t think enough complaints about laundry can be written. After all, laundry is never ending so shouldn’t my gripes be sorted along with the lights and darks?

I thought cleaning bathrooms was the bane of my existence, but you can put off bathrooms with a good tub of Clorox Wipes® for weeks. Unfortunately, continuing to purchase extra packages of underwear and socks only buys you so much time before people are drying off with toilet paper.

No, laundry is my arch nemesis and skidded underwear its most lethal weapon. Actually, make that my son’s soccer socks – I really need to contact the military to see if those qualify as weapons of mass destruction.

As it is, I think I should be able to file for disability or at least get hazard pay for my parenting duties associated with laundry. I’m getting carpal-tunnel syndrome from spraying stain remover on ALL my son’s clothes. The kid spends more time brushing his teeth than he does with his feet on the ground.

And I’m not naming any names, but let’s just say someone in the house needs a refresher course on how to wipe a bottom. Either that or I’ve got to change the kid’s diet because it’s producing end results that just can’t be contained.

Please, don’t get me started on pocket surprises. I actually screamed aloud and hit my head when I staggered backward the other day. I thought someone had saved a giant booger in their pants, but it turned out to be a little squishy cow pencil topper.

What I wouldn’t give for a day when I don’t have to think about laundry. I’ve even had fantasies about it – drifting off to sleep, the clothes that still need to be folded at my feet, dreaming of a nirvana where clothes don’t get dirty and stinky crusty socks don’t need to be turned inside-out.

As I float along in my fantasyland in a pointless laundry basket, children are eagerly folding and putting away the Immaculate Collection clothing. Wrinkle-free pants and shirts are being joyfully hung by helpful husbands. Underwear and sock drawers are bottomless and pit-stains are nonexistent. And instead of owning a washer, dryer, iron and plethora of “h.e” safe cleaning products I am released from the bondage of laundry to frolic in a field of daisy’s with Orlando Bloom.

Okay, see you guys later. This is a whole other fantasy now and I’m not sharing Orlando.

FLATULENT FAMILY DINNER

2010-02-24T21:18:00Z

Momservation: Only with kids and dads is a good fart a crowd pleaser.

☺☺☺

So there we were, sitting having a nice family dinner and conversation like we do every night there’s not soccer/basketball/baseball/softball (I guess this would make it a Thursday or Sunday).

Suddenly, there’s the distinctive muffled rumble and scent of somebody who just ripped one.

Followed by laughter.

From Daddy.

Which then of course gets the culprit and her approving brother rolling.

Trying to set a better example and appropriate table manners I ask toward the offender - who instead of blushing with embarrassment is now high-fiving her dad, “What do you say?”

In response, rather than an “excuse me” her brother interjects, “Nice one!”

More out of control laughter. My daughter goes for an opportunity to garner more laughs by pretending to choke on her milk in mirth, spraying it all over her unfinished plate.

Before I can admonish her, a louder chair muffled, “rrrrrrnnnt” comes underneath the table from her.

The sound of pure joy breaks out around the table. “Dude, you better check your shorts on that one!” says Daddy nearly in tears. My son, beaming with pride, falls out of his chair in hilarity onto the floor.

While down there he gasps out between guffaws, “Aww, man, I think the dog farted too!”

This time, Whitney really did choke on her milk at this new assault on her funny bone. Everyone’s gasp-for-breath laughing except me, but I can fill the corners of my mouth twitching as I resist the contagious amusement not wanting to cave to such poor manners.

Now of course, the king of farts can’t resist an opportunity to show his loyal subjects why he is the ruler of the land. My husband, at the dinner table, dramatically shifts his weight and lifting his left butt-cheek from the chair pollutes our ears and noses with the Hiroshima of fart bombs.

The kids explode with laughter. Hubby looks across the table at me, grinning from ear to ear, but with the look of a child who knows they’re about to get in trouble.

Only now does it occur to my family of dinner table farters that they may have crossed over the lines of decency. The kids apprehensively turn toward me, trying to reel themselves in by smothering giggles.

Looking at each person, letting the moment of reckoning settle over them I finally say,

“Daddy’s got nothing on me. When you come snuggle with Mommy tonight right before bed, I’m gonna hot-box you all like you wouldn’t believe.”

And to punctuate my point I ripped off my own fart and joined the laughter.

*If that hasn’t grossed you out enough and made you not want to join the Wheeler’s for dinner, then you obviously haven’t read Family Ear Wax Night…