Momservation: On fashion trends - If you’re old enough to have worn it the first time around, it’s best not to have it in your closet for the second coming.

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I am an 80’s gal. My friends know if you’ve got a 1980’s themed party coming up, I’m your go-to gal for vintage 80’s wear and accessories. VINTAGE. Meaning, why the heck do I still have this stuff around?

Crimping iron? Check. Big, black bow a-la Madonna for the hair? Check. Knock-off Guess acid-washed, overall jean skirt? Check. (Never mind there’s no way I can squeeze these kid-baring hips in it). Neon pink skinny tie a-la Nicolas Cage from “Valley Girl?” Check. Bangle bracelets, dangly earrings, Motley Crue pin? Check, check, check.

Don’t even get me started on 80’s music. Or quoting every line from “Sixteen Candles.”

Despite my absolute love and nostalgia for all things 80’s, I have to admit, I was a 70’s girl first. Only, I feel like I was left out of the party. I was still a bit too young for all the popular fashion trends and it seemed everything I desired my mom told me I was too young to wear it.

I desperately wanted those Ditto, Jordache, Sasson, and Chemin de Fur jeans instead of plaid trousers. I thought it would be so cool to wear tube tops and wrap around skirts instead of shirts with unicorns and rainbows or iron-on T-shirts that said, “Keep on truckin’.” I ached for platform sandals like Candies or Cherokees instead of my Hush Puppies. But more than anything else I really, really wanted the glorious wavy bottom wedge shoes - Famolares.

They were the one designer 1970’s trend I thought I had the closest shot at getting. It wasn’t racy. It wasn’t sexy. And as an eight year old third grader I thought the moderate platform wasn’t too mature for me. Plus, I went to a private school with a uniform dress code and the only shoes I could wear with my plaid skirt were navy blue or brown shoes. And wouldn’t you know it, the loafer style Famolares I wanted came in blue and brown!

But Mom said no. “You’ll twist your ankle. They’re too mature for you,” she said dashing my hopes. Even when the first day of school came and lo and behold other 3^rd grade girls were wearing Famolares, my mom still said no. I got one pair of school shoes a year and we had just bought me the ugliest navy blue shoes on the face of the earth. When Christmas came I angled again, but even Santa wasn’t on my side.

Then the 80’s came and Famolares disappeared with bell-bottom jeans and platform shoes. And even though I moved on to flats and leg warmers, I never forgot about my first love.

Fast forward 30 years. A friend had just returned some 80’s wear I let her borrow and we were reminiscing about our favorite past trends. I told her about my long lost love of Famolares and how I still, to this day, ached for their touch upon my sole.

That’s when it occurred to me that with the magic of the internet it wasn’t too late to be connected to my one true love. That night, while my husband was asleep in bed, I searched online, desperate to be reunited.

Sure enough, after sifting through Famolare Hi There platforms, Famolare Get There heels and sandals, and Famolares in wrong sizes and colors – there they were on eBay, just as I remembered them. Brown, lattice front, wavy wedge, size 8 Famolares. I bought them instantly, money no object, finally mature enough for them to be mine.

When they arrived two days later, I was giddy with anticipation. I was already wearing the outfit I knew they would look perfect with. When I slipped them on it was like we were always meant to be together.

When my kids came home from school I danced around in my beloved shoes declaring, “Mommy is going to bring back an old fashion trend! I’m wearing these babies everywhere!”

“Those are them?” my son said disappointed with all the hype.

When I paraded around in them for my husband, eager for his approval, he shrugged and said, “If that’s what turns you on.”

When I wore them to my kids’ soccer practice skipping over to show the other moms, said one unimpressed, “Hmmm. Those aren’t how I remembered them.”

When I posted a picture on Twitter, giddy to show off my Famolares like a proud new mom one follower said, “They kind of look like nun shoes.”

When I wore them to Girls Night Out one friend decided, “They look a bit sensible. Sort of like orthopedic shoes.”

Coming to the realization that the fantasy was better than the reality, my mom was the one who finally put it all in perspective. When I called her to tell her what I finally had on my feet after all these years she said, “Saying you would twist your ankle was a convenient excuse. They were like $50 back then. Those shoes were too expensive and they just weren’t that cute.”

And a week later, when the novelty had definitely worn off and I had cast them aside in favor of my reliable old running shoes my daughter said stating the obvious, “Mom, where are your Famolares? How are you going to start a fashion trend if you never wear them?”

Yeah. Some things are better left in the past.

Except the 80’s. The 80’s will live forever if I have anything to do with it.

Momservation: Preparing for the moment when my kids realize the true meaning behind Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Kid Rock’s lyrics to “All Summer Long.”

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So we’re driving along the other day enjoying a fun family Sunday. Kids are happy in the backseat with a treat of Slurpees and chips. Hubby and I are the heroes in the front seat, holding hands, bopping to the music on the radio as we head home. You could practically see the hearts, stars, rainbows and flowers spewing out our tailpipe after us, the picture of idealistic family harmony.

A favorite tune comes on the radio and the mood in the car becomes instantly playful as we all start singing and grooving along.

That is until an eight year old soprano rises above all others from the back seat, singing with gusto, “…and we were trying different things, and we were smokin’ funny things, making love out by the lake to our favorite song, sippin’ Whiskey out the bottle, not thinkin’ ‘bout tomorrow, singing ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ all summer long.”  

Now imagine the sound of a record coming to a scratching halt. Hubby and I looked at each other, eyebrows raised in a simultaneous Oh Sh**! moment.

Instead of bringing a little Jesus into their hearts on the day of the Sabbath, our music choices had inadvertently brought a little Kid Rock into their mouths. It appeared our Disney princess wasn’t singing Hannah Montana’s “Best of Both Worlds” anymore.  

What do we do? It was too late to turn the channel. Our daughter, Whitney, obviously already knew the lyrics and she continued to sing along word for word. Making a big deal of it by telling her she couldn’t sing that part would only cause premature curiosity, calling attention to words she didn’t grasp the true meaning of. The bell couldn’t be unrung.

But looking back in the rearview mirror at this little girl in pigtails, singing her guts out to a catchy tune simply because she was happy, I realized we were still in the clear. She was still a firm believer in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and unconcerned with the details of where babies come from. We felt safe we hadn’t poisoned her well of knowledge just yet. 

Instead we shrugged and smirked, finding the humor in our innocent little girl obliviously singing about sex, drugs and rock and roll. Then we vowed to be more careful about our song choices when the kids were in the car.

Plus, I pointed out to Hubby, I sang the words to “Greased Lighting” about t**s and a** from age 7 to 27 before I shockingly heard and understood what the lyrics were actually saying. After all, it takes a certain amount of life experience to know “the chicks’ll cream” doesn’t mean we’re talking about whipping up some Cool Whip.

Okay, yeah, that didn’t help. Time to turn off the radio and sing “Kumbaya.”

Momservation: Parenthood is a journey made up of little moments that make you gaze upon your child, turn to your spouse and say, “Whose kid is this anyway?”

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I like to think I’m doing a nice job raising my children. That at this point in the game I’ve firmly implanted some good morals, values and expectations. And most of the time I can look at my kids and honestly feel pride and satisfaction that these kids are going to do alright.

Other times I just pray I haven’t messed them up too bad.

So the other day, I see a teachable moment and pounce on it. I figure I can give my kids a hands-on lesson by showing them what taking responsibility means (instead of yelling it at them while laying waste to teaching them to watch their tempers).

I was doing laundry. I HATE laundry. If I had the money of Oprah I’d just buy new clothes and underwear every day. Or if I had the body of Jennifer Lopez I’d just walk around naked.

So, there I was, wasting my precious time on this earth by Shout-ing out stains, and my kids go moping by because I made them put away their clean and folded clothes themselves.

“Hey, I got a question for you,” I say to them. “Do you think Mommy likes doing laundry?”

“No, you HATE laundry,” they say in unison. I’m not sure if I’m pleased with their perception or mad at myself for not setting a good example with a better attitude.

“Please, don’t use the word “hate” – it’s not a nice word,” I say. Then I make a mental note to self: Quit using the word hate – it’s not a nice word. Probably should quit saying God d*** it, too.

Despite their unfortunate, yet accurate, choice of words they stepped right into my teachable moment. “Mommy doesn’t like laundry, but I do it anyway, right?” They both nod. “That’s what taking responsibility means. It means doing things because you should, because they need to be done, or because it’s the right thing to do. You may not always like it, or want to do it, or it might be hard and no fun, but you do it anyway.”

This is where my Proud Parenting Moment (PPM) happened. And if there was a font for sarcasm you would know already my kids didn’t suddenly light up with understanding and drop everything to help fold clothes.

No, instead this little conversation unfolded:

Whitney, 8, says, “I HATE laundry. I never want to do it.”

Logan, 9, then declares, “Well, you better learn to like laundry Whitney, because one day you’re going to be a mom.”

Says Whitney, “That’s why I’m not getting married until I’m like, 64.”

To which Logan replies, “Then you’re going to be a lonely old lady who talks to her cats.”

Hmmm, didn’t know that was an option.

But just to make sure my son didn’t continue down this early wrong course of thinking laundry was women’s work, as soon as Hubby got home I shoved a basket of clean clothes at him and said, “Make sure you fold this in sight of your son, please.”

1. Respect yourself and others. This pretty much covers all other rules. But just to be clear…
2. Own it. Quit throwing other people under the bus and take responsibility for your choices.
3. Just ‘cause you can, doesn’t mean you should. “Seemed like a good idea at the time” should be reserved for tombstones.
4. Lying only throws fuel on the fire. Mess with the fire and you’re going to get burned.
5. Change is inevitable. So quit your complaining and learn to adapt.
6. Don’t be a hater. Ugly attitudes don’t look good on anyone. Let it go - don’t waste energy on carrying a grudge.
7. Remember the Mom Test. If you wouldn’t say it, do it, or suggest it with Mom standing next to you – think twice.
8. Do no harm. Keep all hands, feet, arms, legs and other violations of space and privacy to yourself.
9. Do something. Don’t just sit there – be helpful, thoughtful, considerate, generous, a friend, anything! Everyone’s got something to give.
10. Enjoy the journey. It’s not the destination that counts, but how you get there. So you might as well hang on end enjoy the ride.

• school fundraiser wrapping paper and magazine subscriptions
• Little League chocolate bars
• Girl Scout cookies
• Pampered Chef gadgets
• Southern Home Living knicknacks
• CAbi clothes
• Cookie Lee jewelry
• Silpada jewelry
• Delight candles
• Auction fundraiser raffle tickets

I'm sure there's more, but doesn't this fun picture below make you want to vote more than guilt?

Title:	17 Years of CA State Fair Memories
Description:	The Wheeler Family has used the CA State Fair photo booths to capture memories from the last 17 years (1993-2009), chronicling first dating, first married, first child, second child, and the growth of their family. These are just a few of the 17 strips with the most recent on the right taken at the fair August 26,

Momservation: Change is inevitable. Just make sure you brought your camera, your battery’s charged and your SIM card is empty.

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I am no longer Most Smartest Mommy ITW (In the World). Figuratively speaking, of course.

I mean, I never was actually, but I’m okay with letting my kids keep believing in that and the tooth fairy.

What I’m actually referencing is my first blog site on SacMomsClub – Most Smartest Mommy ITW (In the World). My first foray into electronic social networking infamy (more like anonymity with the five zillion mommy bloggers out there).

It was fun. A respectable amount of people actually read it. My same handful of fans (excluding parents) would loyally comment. I even achieved featured blogger status on the host site.

But things change. Times change. People grow apart and realize they’re not the same people they used to be. And after a time of reflection, hopefully you can say you’ve changed for the better. And maybe, just maybe, you’re both mature enough in your relationship to admit it’s time for both of you to move on to new opportunities better suited to who you’ve become.

Okay - that sounded great! Remind me to save that and use it when my daughter comes crying to me heartbroken after being dumped for the first time.

But I digress. My point is, if you are a new reader who has stumbled up Momservations.com – Welcome! If you followed me from my previous blog site like a woman chasing her favorite hair dresser to a new salon – Thanks for sticking with me! And if you sought me out, looking for this person who has The Fine Print to Parenting 101 – You’ve come to the right place!

Get comfortable. Stay awhile. Feel free to poke around for more mom musings and literary refreshment on my website www.Kellimwheeler.com .

But most of all, enjoy the journey. Because parenthood may be the hardest thing we’ll ever do, but it’s still the best ride in the park.

To read Most Smartest Mommy ITW (In the World) visit: www.Sacmomsclub.com/home/blog/Kellimwheeler