Surprisingly, today, I’m not going to gripe, grumble or brag about my own children, but after reading this heart-warming story, as a mother myself I thought I’d share it with you.
A young 10-year-old girl, Amelia Howarth wrote to the ScS head office to inform them how much she liked their adverts and that she acts them out in front of friends and family, so cute! Her mum must have been so proud when her daughter received a behind the scenes tour and a chance to meet the star of the ads, Victoria, from ScS as a thank you.
Lindsey Duncton, ScS marketing manager who noticed the enthusiasm from this excitable youngster, said: “We were delighted to read Amelia’s e-mail and to hear how much she loved our ads.” She is a real fan of ScS sofa ads and decided to write to the company’s Sunderland head office to let them know just how much she liked them, and how she practices acting them out at home for family and friends.
After experiencing all the behind the scenes feature at the branch on Portrack Lane, Stockton, Amelia was ecstatic! She went on to say: “I was really excited to visit the ScS store and meet Victoria from the ads. The whole day was really fantastic and I enjoyed meeting the nice people from ScS. I have shown all my friends the signed script I was given by Victoria and told them all about it. It really is the best day of my holidays and I can’t wait to see the new ads on the TV.” Bless her!
It just makes me think of all those moments my children have filled me up with joy and pride, and for all the other mothers out there I hope this story does too.
Head over to, www.scs.co.uk to discover more about ScS today.]]>
An overwhelming majority, 89%, stated that stay at home dads are cool. 10% felt that moms should be the primary caregivers. I have to say I’m with the majority on this one. I think that if dad staying home works for that family, then have at it! Dads bring a different energy to child raising (at least the ones that I know) and I don’t think that is a bad thing.
Now, we recently got rid of my son’s all-in-one loft bed for a raised bed without the desk/dresser components. He was simply too tall for it, and as his ceiling is not vaulted, was feeling a bit claustrophobic. In fact, he wouldn’t come straight out and tell us that he hated sleeping up there, he kept faking stomach aches and asking to sleep on the couch. Seriously? I thought we were better at communicating than that. But after a few days my husband and I sussed it out. Kids, they kill me. Well, my kids, specifically.
Anyhoo, that left us with needing to buy him a dresser. We took a bit of time deciding which of these routes to go. Which one would you take?
Quoted from Erma Bombeck, one of my all-time favorite authors:
No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.
Judge me if you must, but Erma and I are on the same page.
As a child, my mother forced me to make my bed every morning. I never saw the point, unless the covers were so out of order that you couldn’t pull them over yourself completely. Then, I certainly saw the wisdom of straightening them out.
I confess to not being a stickler about the Munchkin making his own bed. In fact, I don’t really remember the last time he did it.
It doesn’t help that he has an all-in-one bed, the kind with the mattress on top like a bunkbed, and drawers and a desk underneath. I certainly can’t make it up the ladder to inspect it, or let’s just say I don’t want to make it up the ladder to inspect it, shall we. It’s difficult to make a bed that you must sit on in order to fix the blankets, so I give him a pass.
But to be honest, even if he didn’t have a bed like that, I probably wouldn’t force him to do it all the time, only when I was feeling the need to be anal about something fairly innocuous.
Which happens more often than you would think, but still not a priority.
My track record with my own bed is pretty poor, especially since our daughter is sleeping in it as well. Since she also naps there, it means I would have to make it twice a day and mama just does not have the time for that.
But parenting is all about picking your battles, and I’d rather save mine for the thousands of Legos on the floor.]]>
Sometimes I like to pretend that in some alternate universe, I could be friends with celebrity moms. And while I certainly enjoy attending art gallery openings and film festivals, there is also a large part of me that enjoys a good barbeque and some Pictionary. There are some celebrity moms with whom I just don’t think I could hang.
I can’t remember exactly when Ms. Gwyneth began showing up on my celebrity radar, certainly well before she became a mom. I think it was when she began dating Brad Pitt, and I had a very Bluth-ian reaction to their relationship. Her? Then she went and won an Oscar for a role in a movie that was cute, but not exactly something that should have beaten Cate Blanchett.
So I think from that point, I was primed and ready to dislike her.
I do have to make the disclaimer that I really know nothing about her other than what she has chosen to put out there in the public domain. And that’s the disturbing part, because what is out there is far from flattering.
Despite being a native Californian, she hates the United States, and in a snooty way. Not good enough to raise her children here, or some such claptrap. Gwyneth, with all the money you have, I guarantee your children would have a nice life no matter where you chose to live.
I profiled a picture of her daughter’s room way back when, and was struck by the lack of whimsy or playfulness. I’m all about the whimsy, and apparently Mrs. Martin, not so much. Witness her TriBeCa apartment. Check Apple’s bed. What Mrs. Martin may call whimsy, I call “prone to inducing nightmares.”
And then, there is GOOP. Oh, where to begin? Her website has been widely pilloried as elitist, unrealistic, and downright silly. To be so self unaware as to blithely ramble about ensembles worth more than some people’s homes, and using only a particular type of pink salt, or detoxing, or hundreds of other “tips” that only people with time and money to spare can take advantage of.
Oh, and the fact that as a person who was a macrobiotic and seems to have food issues, got to eat across Spain with Mario Batali.
Yeah, that’s definitely what put me over the edge. Bitch.
*If you happen to think Gwyneth is the bee’s knees, then consider it a royal “we.” Oh, and ignore the bitch part, too.]]>
Again with the 80’s. I can’t help myself.
Drop-side cribs = banned.
Neck circumference measurements for kids instead of BMI?
OK, because Inception is out and I have this thing for Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Which makes me feel ooogie because he’s awfully young.
Nance wonders about “The Biggest Moments in Bras.”
Preschool = good thing.
Today is National Ice Cream Day!
Lolebrity has a little Lil’ Wayne.]]>
Valentine’s Day got a tepid response from most of you, with fifty-four percent of you saying you were just all right with it. Thirty-six percent think it’s for suckas, and a very enthusiastic eight percent think it’s fantastic. I personally think it is kind of silly, although I certainly wouldn’t turn down some chocolate if it happened to come my way.
Today I’ve got a question that is admittedly not your run-of-the-mill poll question, but I was having a debate with a friend of mine, and I NEED TO KNOW.
Let’s talk about the sleeping, or more specifically, the lack thereof. Not only do you have to get up and go to the bathroom approximately four times a night, your growing belly prohibits you from sleeping comfortably. Back pain and hip pain are all too common.
So in its wisdom, the pregnancy industrial complex has devised all manner of pillows that purport to deliver you into the land of slumber, stat.
In my bleary-eyed misery, I was perusing some websites for a suitable pregnancy pillow that would alleviate my problems. I have experience with the wedge pillows, and also with the longer pillows which fit under both your belly and between your knees.
But things have changed since my last pregnancy, and I was confronted with this:
Whoa! I’m guessing this is for women who are secretly annoyed at their husbands, because there is no way your hubby is going to fit with that huge thing in the bed. Screw spooning!
Maybe I should just get myself one of these. It’s fairly similar, probably cheaper, and I can at least use it later!
Nothing like it to zip up a parenting site, eh?
May 29th, 2009 at 11:02 pm
Purple pigs perched here and there.
Pox and pestilence everywhere.
Is it Hamthrax or is it the Swine
Should I worry or is it fine?
Masks and antibiotics are all the rage
Should I decide to live in a cage?
Who gives a flying what the F**k
I’ll breathe the air and trust my Luck!
Congrats to Jennie! Congrats and, of course, imaginary swag. What shall we present our princess of pork? How about something nice and piggy, something like the Tumbling Pig from Giggle. I’m not sure if it’s a piece of furniture or a toy, but it WILL roll with the porcine punches.
What more do you want?
Try and outlast me, gentle readers! I make that velociraptor my bitch for a full minute and nineteen juicy seconds!
I could survive for 1 minute, 19 seconds chained to a bunkbed with a velociraptor.
That’s not your problem.
Your problem is…that funny-looking toy sitting quietly in the corner: is it invisibly emanating pthalates all over your family when your back is turned? Perhaps lead-shedding? Without a budget for lab testing, how can you ever know?
Well, there’s hope. A paladin has ridden in to possibly take some of the potentially-poisonous playthings off your overloaded hands.
The unequivocally-named We Want Your Toys is your knight in shining (but presumably cleaned with biodegradeable products) armor.
If you are finished with any of these toys we want to buy them from you.
Please email us low resolution photographs that show the condition of your toys along with your shipping address and if we can use your toys we will send you a check, packaging and prepaid postage.
And they will use those toys to make funky, postmodern furniture, like the glass-topped table made out of plastic duckies and sharkies. Presumably, artsy, postmodern glass-topped tables are less likely to be found in the vicinity of children, and certainly they’re less likely to be found in the vicinity of intelligent parents like you.
These are the first generation prototypes of high technology
scavenging of recycled plastics for furniture. The Recycled
Toys are laser scanned and digitized into a computer, they are
designed and arrayed like bricks, their intersections are
defined as cutting paths, and a robot cuts their joints and
connections with precision. They are then welded together
with a tool used to repair car fenders
The toys in which they’re interested are all plastic moulded rocker toys:
Seriously? Rock ‘n Roll Eggplant? People buy eggplants for their kids to ride on? Where is your PRIDE, people? Where is your sense of HISTORY? Come on, if the poor kid is growing up to be vegan, isn’t that punishment enough?]]>