Category Archives: Uncategorized

Giveaway, Humor, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

No Mother’s Perfect: What Does The Kid Say?? (Plus Funniest Tweets and a Giveaway)

April 15, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 27 Comments

There is a new Mother of All Meltdowns site! No Mother Is Perfect is a community for the perfectly imperfect mother! A place where you can let your guard down and talk about the meltdowns, struggles, and less rosy aspects of being a mom… I am participating in the blog tour by interviewing the authors of Mother of All Meltdowns (MOAM) to help celebrate! Please enjoy these hilarious examples of “Toddler Speak,” plus they share their favorite tweets with us. Make sure you keep reading to the end for a fabulous (and I mean fabulous!) giveaway!

Thanks to Anew for sending me their Riesling wine to enjoy while I wrote this post. I didn't receive any other compensation and all opinions are my own. — Thanks to Anew for sending me their Riesling wine to enjoy while I wrote this post. I didn’t receive any other compensation and all opinions are my own.

When my kids would pronounce a word incorrectly, or say a completely different word, I always called it Toddler Speak. I could name enough words to come up with an entirely new language, but my favorite is Jake’s word for Chick-Fil-A. He used to call it “Chicken Leg” and I still do to this day, even though he is 15. I asked the MOAM authors for THEIR favorites, and the answers are wackier than the lyrics for “What Does the Fox Say?” (Maybe Fraka-kaka-kaka-kaka-kow is toddler fox speak?)

Tamara (Like) Camera Scarlet calls the crust of sandwiches – “the crotch.” I have no idea how this started but since we’re immature, we never corrected her. It’s just so cute! Anyway, she was at a friend’s house for a play date, and her friend’s mom does not speak English as a first language. She was VERY confused when she was making Scarlet a sandwich and Scarlet asked very innocently, “Will you cut my crotch off?” (This is probably why we should correct our kids, right?)

Kiss My List When my daughter was a toddler, she would ask for a fork and knife, but she hadn’t mastered the “r” sound. So my husband and I found it quite amusing to hear our two year old ask for a f—ckin’ knife. And while we’ve told her this story, we do not allow her to mispronounce that phrase anymore.

The Golden Spoons Once, when my middle daughter was learning to read and we were in a restaurant, she wanted to order Coke which I don’t usually et them do, but this time I gave in. She proudly and loudly mispronounced “Coke” and announced, “Yay! Mommy said I could have Cock!!”

Menopausal Mother The funniest thing my son said when he was little was he used to call hotels ” Ho and Tells”, which is something entirely different than a place to rest your head at night….or is it? HAHAHA!

Fining Ninee My son says a lot of words weirdly because he’s got a pretty severe speech and language disorder but I think the cutest one these days is his word for butt, which is “my bommommb.” He also says “my peenee” for penis, which is pretty awesome.

Science of Parenthood When my son was about 2, he went on a milk strike. And then one frigid winter day, I made him some hot chocolate. He loved it. So I wondered if he liked it hot, maybe he’d drink it cold. So I mixed some Nestle Quick in some milk and told him it was “cold” hot chocolate. He downed every drop. End of milk strike. We call it cold hot chocolate today, and our son is 8.

The Mom Café Funniest thing: My daughter STILL calls her sneezes “Bless yous”. She is almost 11, and I’m seriously not sure she even realizes they are called sneezes. Every time she sneezed when she was little, I would say “Bless YOU!”- it stuck.

No Holding Back It may not be the funniest thing ever, but I think it’s hilarious that my daughter thought Mac n cheese was called “Monkey cheese.” To this day, we still call it that! And, when I was pregnant with my twins, my four year old son came up to me, put his hands right on my boobs and said “Mommy are these the babies heads?” I still laugh about that.

Pink When The funniest thing “lately” (I say lately because she always comes up with crazy stuff) is that when the kids are playing Minecraft on the iPad, Addy doesn’t want to be left out. She screams and screams to the top of her voice that she also wants “EYE CRAPT” It took me a while to realize she was talking about the game and not using slang for soiling her clothing.

Tao of Poop My daughter calls The Statue of Liberty “The Statue of Lovely.”

Writer Mom Blog My daughter called the computer “puter” and we thought it was adorable until she went to Kindergarten and wondered why other kids weren’t calling it that! My son called the Playstation the “Gas Station.” The first time he called it that it took quite awhile to figure out what he wanted.

Baking in a Tornado When my son was little he called water “addle.” I felt like such a failure as a mom because it took me forever to figure out what he was saying. But the day he asked for “addle-moon” I felt like a mom success as I grabbed the dish of watermelon and passed it to him. We don’t use the term but every now and then I’ll ask him if he wants an “addle bottle”. He just looks at me and rolls his eyes.

Another Jennifer Blog My younger son, who is 5, has had some great mispronunciations that have stuck. We routinely say “lusually” instead of usually, ‘hobsital” instead of hospital and “up-tie-side-down” instead of upside down. My older son, who is 8, mistakenly called Domino’s Pizza “Checkers” one time. That has stuck as well!

Crayon Marks and Tiger Stripes My son calls cuddling “cuggle.” It’s more sweet than it is funny. We “cuggle” a lot! He is quite the cuggler.

The Liebers My youngest used to call strawberries “Strawbeebees.” Actually, since I mentioned it out loud he’s started calling them that again! My daughter used to say cu-buzz instead of because. She also said laa-loo instead of I love you. She still uses that one when she’s being cutesy.

My Skewed View My son called yesterday “lasterday”, the first time he said it I thought maybe it was a one shot deal but it stuck. We still say lasterday instead of yesterday 5 years later.

Tidbits from the Queen of Chaos My daughter used to call spaghetti, skabetti and My 4yo called the computer the ‘puter. We still sometimes call them those as a joke.

Helicopter Mom and Just Plane Dad My daughter always used to say “lasterday” for yesterday and “smallberry” for strawberry. So cute.

Janie’s Confessions of a Mommyaholic My three year old started to tell me that in this past winter’s polar vortex weather she needed her “babing suit” aka as her bathing suit to wear. She was trying to be cute and funny making me laugh about wanting to wear a bathing suit in the freezing cold, but the way she said it was even more adorable mispronouncing it. Totally can’t help but smile thinking about it and definitely can’t help but want to say it that way, too.

A Dish of Daily Life We’ve always let the kids pick their birthday dinners. Growing up in New England, lobster has always been one of those special occasion meals for our kids. When my youngest son was little, he always picked lobster, but for some reason he called it “the pink meat.” One year his dinner request was for “the pink meat” and cantaloupe. Quite the combination!

Urban Moo Cow My son is bilingual in English and Italian. When we lived in Brooklyn, there was a point in time when he would seemingly curse on the elevator all the time. In Italian, “fare la cacca” means “to poop” and “bimbo” means boy baby. This is basically how it would go:

H: Fuck-a-cah? Me: Fai la cacca? (Are you pooping?)

H: Fuck a cookie! Me: FAI LA CACCA? [enunciating]

H: Fuck a! Fuck a cah!! Bimbo fuck a cookie!

I definitely got some weird looks. Even just “bimbo” would prompt sidelong glances.

English was no better, frankly. At one point he became obsessed with the nursery rhyme Hickory Dickory Dock from an Elmo book my mom gave him for Christmas. (Thanks, Mom. Always knew you’d get your revenge.)

H: More crack?        Me: You want to hear about the clock?

H: Yeah, crack!       [5,673 readings of Hickory Dickory Dock]

H: Mamma! More more crack!      Me: No more clock, lovie.

H: (Screaming) MORE CRACK. MAMMA CRACK!

Four Hens and a Rooster The one that sticks out in my mind that we DO still use is “The Big Show” for Toys R Us. I have NO idea why my (now) 15 year old started it calling it that when she was 2 or 3, except maybe the lights, toys, etc but the Rooster and I still will say “hey – I have to go the Big Show and pick up a gift.

Home on Deranged The funniest thing to hear our almost 2 year old say wrong is her own last name. It’s supposed to be Swedoski (sweh-dah-ski), but, at her lovely young age, it comes out as “Pidossi” (Peh-dah-see). It’s really hilarious on video. And I told my husband I’m thinking of changing my name.

Lemon Drop Pie My daughters have always had excellent language skills, so much so that when my oldest was only four she taught the baby not to say “wawee” but to clearly say “water.” They take after my husband; when I was little, my mom was a member of a woman’s church group called “Ladies’ Aid.” I asked her, “Are we going to Lemon’s Aid?”

***FAVORITE TWEETS AND QUOTES***

Menopausal Mother: “Dawned on me I left all my bras and underwear in my dresser drawer at the Marriott….well that was certainly a fun call to make to the hotel…”

Pink When: From @ComedyTruth “If you can’t handle me at my Amanda Bynes, you don’t deserve me at Beyoncé”

A Dish of Daily Life: “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t–you’re right.” ~ Henry Ford

Janine’s Confessions: I would rather get a colonoscopy rather than go shoe shopping with my husband and kids again!!

The Mom Café: From @KateWhineHall My son just yelled “MOM!” seven times while I was taking a shower. Haha, like I was going to answer that.

Baking In a Tornado: I don’t know if this is my favorite, but this happened when I first started using Twitter and didn’t know what I was doing. I had about 50 followers (no idea how) including one (only one, not both) of my sons. I somehow thought I was only tweeting to him when I tweeted “call your mom”. Next thing I know I’m getting about 25 tweets from strangers saying things like “done”, “ok”, “I will” and “just did”. I think a lot of moms were happy to receive unexpected phone calls that day. Of course this mom never heard from her kid.

No Holding Back: This is one of my favorite tweets ever… it was in the midst of a really funny twitter convo with some of my fave peeps. We were having a moms night in on twitter. @TamaraCamPhoto @JanineHuldie @RaisingReagan @katbiggie haha! My kids don’t fart a lot. It’s a cruel joke because farting always makes me laugh.

Kiss My List: “Boy: Look Mom! You can see my heart beating through my chest. Jeez, eat a donut, kid. @kissmylist” I sent this tweet almost a year ago, and the boy has grown taller but no less transparent.

Tamara (Like) Camera: I don’t know my favorite tweet but I did that thing where you find your first tweet ever. This was mine: “Will someone inform Bob Weir that we’re dating? I don’t think he knows yet.” What a thing to say! Although I do love Bob Weir.

Four Hens and a Rooster: One of the big highlights was when Ashley Judd and I got into a twitter conversation a couple of years ago after that “puffy face” thing. I thanked her for having the cajones to tell the press to shove it and it went from there.

Home On Deranged: “Had a sleeve of peanut butter sandwich cookies for dinner. Don’t get mad. The 2 year old got a Lunchable. #highfive @HolyHorrible”

Lemon Drop Pie: “A mother’s love: giving most of my churro to my 8 year old daughter, who then doesn’t go to sleep until well after 9:30. #finallymetime”

Crayon Marks and Tiger Stripes: “I am always doing that which I can not do, in order that I may learn how to do it. ~Picasso”

My Skewed View: “The boy is re-enacting the Civil War. Taped a butter knife to the end of his rifle and is running around the house (galloping on his horse). @jenkehl”

Tidbits from the Queen of Chaos: By author Elin Hilderbrand @elinhilderbrand “I guess that’s why your twitter name is @queenofchaosmom. I tried to get that twitter name but it was taken.”

Helicopter Mom and Just Plane Dad: by @MarieForleo “The future is always beginning now ~Mark Strand”

Another Jennifer Blog: by @fiercedivablog “@anotherjenb here’s to blogging even when the world falls apart around us.” Jennifer has also been called the queen of bacon on Twitter and has been retweeted by @Cheese. How many people can say they’ve been retweeted by Cheese?

***GIVEAWAY AND REVIEW***

To celebrate the launch of the new community, there is a fabulous No Mother is Perfect, But Every Mother is Unique Mother’s Day Giveaway brought to you by The Mother of All Meltdowns…Pick up your copy today through Mother’s Day for only $0.99 on Amazon! Mother’s Day is Sunday, May 11th 2014! And we want moms everywhere to accept the meltdowns, stop chasing perfection, and embrace their uniquity. You won’t find this word listed in Webster’s, but you will find it within every mother on the planet. Enter between April 1, 2014 to May 11, 2014 to win one of three fabulous prize packages including a three night stay for two at a destination spa!

Sponsored by The Oaks at Ojai, Cariloha, Wicker Central, Metropolis Coffee Company, Wind & Fire Jewelry, Chuao Chocolatier, Global Rose, & Anew Riesling

Well that post was long enough that I could have enjoyed a COUPLE of glasses of wine! The 2012 Anew Riesling has a nice fruity taste – slightly peachy – and not too sweet! Anew suggests pairing this wine with Asian dishes, smoked salmon, lobster salad, pasta with light sauces and blue cheese. Also according to Anew, 2012 was an ideal season for growing Riesling—warm through the summer and then cooling down through fall, allowing the grapes to ripen slowly and evenly. As a result the wines have a lovely purity of fruit combined with a nice balance of acidity.

Uncategorized

My Roller Coaster Life – A Letter To My Kids (For Momastery’s Messy, Beautiful Warriors Project)

April 7, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 17 Comments

This essay and I are part of The Messy, Beautiful Warriors Project. You can read all the project entries here. You may remember that I met Glennon, author of Momastery and the New York Times Bestselling Memoir Carry On Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life. If you don’t recall why she and a bunch of her Monkee followers think I’m bananas (Get it? Bunch-Monkee-Bananas!), you can read about that here.

Dear kids,

You know I’m sick, but we don’t really talk about it. I never want to worry you by telling you all the problems Lyme Disease and Lupus have caused me. But by NOT telling you, I’m probably worrying you more. So. Let’s talk.

I’m sure it’s confusing for you. Adults don’t even understand the ups and downs, so I don’t expect you to. But I can try to explain a bit in terms you will relate to.

Ups and downs is the perfect way to describe it. Like being on a roller coaster. A never ending roller coaster. Yeah, I know you are thinking “how cool would THAT be?!?” But wait. There’s more. When you get on the ride and the harness clicks in, it is too tight. Way too tight. It hurts. Really bad. You wave frantically and yell at the operator but he just smiles an evil smile and pushes the GO button.

As the ride takes off, you try desperately to stop its grip on you. You squirm, you pull, you hit it. But nothing helps.

As you start to head up the first hill, the harness gradually loosens and by the time you reach the crest, it is finally comfortable. You think you can now relax and enjoy the ride. You get that moment where you are perched at the top of the hill. It is exhilarating and exciting. Time seems to stand still.

Then you start to plummet down the hill. You feel the harness begin to tighten again. It squeezes every inch of your body until you want to scream. It takes your breath away. Your head feels like it is spinning.

Just when you think you can’t handle any more, you begin another ascent. The harness begins to loosen again. Relief. Ahhhhh. But this time you can’t enjoy it as much. What goes up must come down. And you now know that the coming down is excruciatingly painful.

This time when you reach the summit, you try to just focus on the joy of that moment. But you can’t because the dread of the descent weighs heavily on your mind.

Each plunge breaks your spirit more and more but after enough hills and valleys you finally learn to get the most out of that time when the harness isn’t squeezing. You enjoy that part of the ride and look forward to the peak. Even though you know the ride can’t end at the top of a hill.

Then – just when you think you have a handle on the ups and downs – out of nowhere you get slammed with a loop-de-loop (or maybe I should call it a lupus-de-lup) which brings a whole new set of problems.

And just as the ride should be coming to an end, the operator smiles his evil grin again and it all starts over.

Add a blindfold so you can’t see the twists and turns coming and that, my dears, is Mommy’s life.

Not being able to get off of this ride makes me sad. Sad about all of the things I have missed out on with you guys. Like the many nights I missed tucking you in because I fell asleep on the couch before your bedtime. Or the days you had to wear mismatched socks because I hadn’t done laundry. (But 2 different socks seems to be all the rage now. You’re welcome fashion world.)

But before I make YOU sad, let me add that there is actually some GOOD that has come out of me being ill.

I don’t have enough energy to be a helicopter Mom so since I don’t hover, you have taken off and soared. You are growing up to be incredibly mature, independent young men!

You all know how to do your own laundry. You don’t. But you know how.

You all know how to use the oven, toaster, microwave and blender. Greg, you have been able to fix your own lunch since you were 3. Eric, you can take an almost rotten banana and turn it into an awesome loaf of bread. Jake, you are now our pancake specialist (and you even got me published in a book. Not for your culinary skills perhaps, but you’ve made many people laugh about what happens If You Give A Kid A Bag Of Pancake Mix.). Jimmy, you make to-die-for peanut butter brownies. No, seriously. Sometimes I’m afraid you’ll kill your brothers if they eat more than their share.

Although I’m sure it drives your teachers insane that I am too foggy brained half the time to make sure you get your homework completed, you are slowly learning to be responsible for getting it done on your own. As long as you manage to get enough homework turned in to actually GRADUATE, you are going to be kick ~~ass~~ butt college students. All those kids who depend on their parents to stand over their shoulder to study will be struggling not to flunk out, but not you guys. You guys will be cranking out solid Cs.

You all have compassion. You may fight like cats and dogs most of the time, but when I REALLY need you to co-exist peacefully so I can rest you always seem to have my back. (Well, since our cats and dogs get along, I will say you fight like praying mantises – manti? – and stink bugs. I won’t say which ones of you are the stink bugs.)

AND *I* have had to learn not to sweat the small stuff, which is a very good thing. I need all my energy for the big stuff, like making sure I take a shower at least once a week.

I’ve realized that the world won’t stop spinning because I didn’t get the sheets changed on your bed this week (or last, or the week before, or…ummm…you get the picture). Plus, I can tell you “good night, don’t let the bed bugs bite” with meaning. Psssh, no. Of course there aren’t really bugs in your bed.

(As far as I know.)

I’ve learned to appreciate the days I DO feel healthy. Not many kids get to see their Moms get downright GIDDY over feeling like a “normal” person for a day/week/month/however long it lasts. You have to deal with the lowest of the lows, but you also get to see pure joy at the highest of the highs. The times you get to see a glimpse of how I want to be all the time. The times on the roller coaster when my hands are up in the air and I’m shouting “bring it on world.”

Unfortunately, it’s been a while since you’ve seen my hands up in the air. Lately I’ve been hanging on for dear life while the coaster has been barreling down. It’s been a rough ~~month~~ few months year for my health. The squeezing of the harness is definitely taking a toll on my body.

But don’t despair. There has to be another ascent soon. There just has to.

Then I will be back to my uphill battle. And, in this case, an uphill battle is a good thing.

Love,

Mom

Happiness, Humor, Joke, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

The One Percent, Parenting Edition

March 4, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 13 Comments

There are many days I feel like parenting is 99% frustration. But just when I feel like I’m drowning in griping, bickering and all out brawls, it happens. That brief glimpse of cooperating, supporting and all out harmony.

It’s the parenting 1%.

Just like the richest 1% holds almost half of the world’s wealth, the parenting 1% holds almost half of parental bliss!

Speaking of 99%, that is also about the same the percentage of posts I write that are complaining, busting on or poking fun at my guys. Because let’s face it – that’s funnier. In atonement for throwing them under the bus over and over (and over), THIS is their 1%.

I – stealthily – snapped these photos through our front door glass. And…ummmm…ignore the fact that Greg is barefoot and in shorts while wearing a winter coat. It was 40 degrees that day so I don’t know WHY he thought it was a good idea to go outside like that. I mean a winter coat?? Crazy kid.

Jake went outside to play basketball but saw Greg struggling to get a successful run on the Hot Wheels track he had built.

Jake searched the bin of track pieces. The solution required thinking outside of the box. The Matchbox.

By (Gregory) George, I think he’s got it. (That would have been funnier if any of you knew that Greg’s middle name is George.)

“Sometimes being a brother is better than being a superhero.” ~ Marc Brown

Car in hand, it’s time to try, try again.

Mission accomplished! Even the smallest successes deserve the biggest high fives. (Unfortunately the small cell camera wasn’t big enough to get the entire high five on film.)

“First a brother, then a bother, now a friend.” ~ Unknown

And now we return to our regularly scheduled sarcasm.

“I smile because you’re my brother, I laugh because there’s nothing you can do about it!” ~ Unknown

Facebook has changed it’s policy for posts to Facebook pages, like my Momopolize page. They are only showing posts to a small number of the page “fans” unless the page administrator (me) pays to boost the views, which this administrator (again, me) won’t be doing. The best way to make sure you will see future blog posts is to subscribe by email (upper right corner). Show me sisterly love!

You can also go to my Momopolize page, hover over the “liked” button and select get notifications. Then you will see the little red number show up when I post on the page. This will notify you of all status updates, not just blog posts.

The biggest compliment is seeing a blog post shared! Won’t you share??

Happiness, Humor, Joke, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

Why We Should Be Banned from Family Portraits

February 19, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 24 Comments

family portrait 2008 — When I saw this 6 year old photo, I realized my teeth were much whiter then & that had to change! Smile Brilliant saved the day! I was compensated for the review below, but all opinions are completely my own.

Some families get annual family portraits professionally taken. We don’t. In fact, the last time we did was six years ago. The time before that Jimmy was a baby. And now I remember why.

I saw a Groupon offer for the portrait place at our local mall. I should have remembered how our trips to the mall usually end up. But in a moment of insanity, I bought the deal.

We aren’t a dress-up-all-cute-and-coordinated type family. For photos, I’m happy if the clothes are (mostly) unwrinkled, (mostly) unstained and ~~(mostly)~~ clean (yeah, mostly). Since I knew our next family portrait may be ~~NEVER ever again~~ in another 6 years, I pushed my luck and requested everyone to dress in similar colors. Jimmy wasn’t home when I ~~screamed down the hall~~ politely said “Wear something with purple or black.” He didn’t get the memo. Grey/Black. Close enough.

After much grumbling and complaining from me the kids, we arrived at the mall. And even almost on time for our appointment!

I knew we were in trouble when I realized the photographer who was assigned for our shoot had ZERO sense of humor. She didn’t crack a single smile the entire time. The Groupon fine print should have included a warning, “~~Cheapskate~~ Bargain seeking families will be assigned to the grumpiest photographer available.”

We did manage to get one print-worthy photo, which is near the end of this post. But I know you don’t really care about that. You are here for the outtakes!

This is what happens when the only photos your kids ever have to pose for are sports related. Are you ready for some football?? Photo 1: Fail.

My kids just weren’t getting the “instructions” she was giving on how/where to stand. In their defense, she seemed to be trying to make it as confusing as possible. She finally got tired of trying to get Eric to put his back toward Jake (he kept just turning his head) and just went ahead and snapped this photo. I guess Greg got tired of waiting too. Photo 2: Fail.

The next photo looks simple, right? It wasn’t. BUT you can’t tell that Jimmy and Jake were trying to inflict pain on their brothers so… Photo 3: Success.

Things went down hill quickly. Photo 4: Fail (but perfectly depicts personalities).

I think by this point the photographer just wanted to shoot her “required minimum” poses and get the hell away from us. Photo 5: Fail.

I guess the photo above gave the photographer a “bright idea.” Why on earth she thought my kids would go for her next pose is beyond me. But she tried. She told Jake to lay down. He did. Then she told Jimmy to lay down. And he did, next to Jake. Then it happened. She said, “No, lay on TOP of him.” It was the first time all day the boys were silent. We all realized what pose she was going for. This…

The reaction was this… (They are blurry because I was shaking so hard from laughter!) Photo 6A: Major Fail (so major that it didn’t actually happen.)

She had had ENOUGH of us and mumbled something before walking out. Session over.

We picked our favorite pose (it was a really tough choice. Not.) and left. I think they locked the doors behind us. Photo 6B: Success!

The best photo was good, but not fantastic so I decided to use my mad Microsoft Paint skills to combine the best shot of each person from all of the other outtakes and make it perfect. Photo 7: NAILED IT!

At least now we know what we’d look like as Bobble Heads.

Photo shoot: $16 Memories: Classless

They have probably modified the Groupon fine print to say “Not valid for anyone affiliated with Momopolize.”

___

RECOMMENDED PRODUCT: SMILE BRILLIANT TEETH WHITENING KIT

It was perfect timing to try a teeth whitening kit before getting the long-overdue family portrait! I received the Smile Brilliant package very quickly. The kit came with material – which reminded me of silly putty – for the teeth impressions. The instructions were very simple to follow and only took a few minutes. My only complaint is that I wanted to play with the “silly putty” longer before it hardened in the mouth piece (Kidding! I can buy ACTUAL silly putty if I want to play). Once I received my custom trays, I got busy whitening! The first time I put the trays in, I thought I would have a hard time keeping them in for the recommended whitening time without gagging, but I got used to it very quickly. I should add an important bit of information here. I’ve had spots on my teeth since I was a child from a reaction to Ampicillin, I think. Some kind of ‘cillin anyway. After the first time I used the whitening gel, the white spots were MUCH whiter than the rest of my teeth (i.e. more noticeable than before I used the gel). I was slightly worried BUT the instructions said the gel is safe for teeth that were discolored by a reaction to medication so I kept at it. After the second application, the rest of my teeth started to catch up to the white spots and started looking whiter over all! You can see for yourself in the photos below the big difference after all the daily applications. Both photos were taken at the same time of the day at the exact same location. It is much harder to get a good photo of your teeth (and much, much more embarrassing to post them for the world to see) than you’d think it would be. In full disclosure: the white spots are less noticeable in the photo than in real life, since I couldn’t get a perfectly clear “selfie.” You can’t see them at all in the second photo. They are much less noticeable, but still there. That is what I expected though because they’ve always been there!

Jim was so impressed with my results, he is using a kit on his teeth also!

Now for the fun part: A GIVEAWAY! One lucky reader will win a kit just like the one I used. To enter, subscribe to Momopolize via email (in the upper right corner of this page). If you are already a subscriber, just add a comment below.

: Contest winner will be chosen on 2/28/14.

Facebook, Humor, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

Can’t Make This Sh!t up

February 5, 2014 momopolize@gmail.com 28 Comments

You may (not) have noticed I’ve been absent from blogging the past few months (just humor me and gush about how much you’ve missed me…). I thought I’d give you a tiny glimpse into some of the daily shit that keeps me from writing. Literally.

Last week we got home from an evening that had already included a concussion (Jimmy)and an injured knee (Jake). Right after Jimmy went downstairs to bed, he called me and exclaimed that he was walking through water. Was the bump on his head was worse than we thought? Alas, no. He wasn’t hallucinating. (If he was, I suppose he would have envisioned walking ON water.)

Our hot water heater had busted and flooded our basement.

The bad luck fairy seems to have visited our family a lot this past year. I’ve been trying reaaaalllly hard to avoid turning into a “glass half empty” type person, so attempted to look at the bright side: (1) It was clean water, (2) most items in the storage room were off the floor because Jim had built shelves, (3) no walls or furniture were damaged and (4) we had a giant carpeted kiddie pool.

After we looked up our (way too high) homeowner’s insurance deductible, we decided to try to salvage the carpet instead of submit a claim. We (“we” meaning Jim) pulled up the carpet, threw away the padding, sucked up the water, repeatedly steam cleaned the carpet with anti-mildew cleaner. Then we installed new padding and put the carpet back. Two days ago.

Fast forward to today. I was taking my daily nap when Jimmy burst into my room to tell me water was pouring all over the storage room. I stumbled downstairs thinking something must be wrong with the new water heater. However, what I found appeared to be water spewing out of the OLD water heater which was still sitting in the storage room.

Even in a half asleep stupor I knew that it couldn’t be possible for an empty, unattached tank to be spraying water. Could it? No, it couldn’t. Upon closer inspection, I figured out that the water was pouring down through the ceiling. It was splattering off the top of the old water heater and raining all over the room. And then it hit me…the room directly above the storage room? The bathroom.

I ran upstairs and water was pouring out of the toilet. The clogged toilet. The clogged, shit-filled toilet. The clogged, shit-filled toilet that requires a “handle jiggle” to stop filling with water. The clogged, shit-filled, jiggle-required toilet that had obviously been “filling” during my entire nap. (I won’t name the little shit who admitted to the…not so little shit that clogged it.)

So much for the glass half full attitude. This time it was NOT clean water. And everything that was “safely” on the storage shelves had been splatted with shatted water. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Shit just got real. Too real.

I don’t need to worry about my glass being half full OR half empty. I think my glass is broken. That’s not seven years bad luck like a mirror, is it??

At least we didn’t make a claim for the first flood. That would have been an awkward phone call. “Hi again Mr. Insurance Man. Remember me? You just replaced our carpet two days ago. Can you enter a claim of ‘ditto?'”

_________

Funny side story…

I was worried about the carpet having a mildew smell so wanted to check it one more time after the final cleaning (from flood #1). I was wearing pink PJ pants with turtles on them and a purple sweatshirt. I put on shoes – black ones that were by the front door – so I wouldn’t get my socks wet.

Jim (seeing me putting on shoes): Where are you going?

Me: Walmart.

Jim: Oh, ok.

I guess he thought I’d fit right in.

Facebook has changed it’s policy for posts to Facebook pages, like my Momopolize page. They are only showing posts to a small number of the page “fans” unless the page administrator (me) pays to boost the views, which this administrator (again, me) won’t be doing. The best way to make sure you will see future blog posts is to subscribe by email (upper right corner). I usually don’t post more than once a week (and, you know, sometimes as little as once every 3 months) so I won’t be FLOODING your inbox with a bunch of emails. Go subscribe now so you won’t miss any of my shitty posts!

You can also go to my Momopolize page, hover over the “liked” button and select get notifications. Then you will see the little red number show up when I post on the page. This will notify you of all status updates, not just blog posts.

The biggest compliment is seeing a blog post shared! Won’t YOU share??

Uncategorized

The Biggest Lesson I’ve Learned Since I Began Blogging

October 3, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 21 Comments

Blogging and writing are not the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong. Bloggers are phenomenal writers. Thought provoking, hilarious, controversial writers.

Blogging is writing. And then some.

When I first started my blog, I would write a post and hit publish. The end.

I thought I was blogging. I wasn’t.

As the months went on, I decided I needed to dip my toe into this world known as the Blogosphere. It was terrifying. I felt like the new kid at the world’s largest school.

I started a blog Facebook page. I shared my posts there but didn’t really interact on other pages.

I got a Twitter account and started following other bloggers. I noticed them re-tweeting and replying to each other. Occasionally I’d get brave enough to press that little star to favorite another blogger’s tweet. But I was still too intimidated to try to start a conversation.

I discovered many great blogs that I started reading. But I didn’t dare comment. They’d just think I was being fake to promote my own blog, right?

Wrong.

It wasn’t until I joined some Blogging groups that I realized the big scary bloggers weren’t so scary after all. In fact they were quite wonderful. And supportive. And were just as terrified of the Blogosphere.

It isn’t the blog-eat-blog world I thought it was.

These groups quite literally have changed my blogging experience. I now know what the “and then some” part of blogging is. Community.

It is wonderful to have a place to go when having an “exactly WHY did I decide to start a blog?” day for a virtual hug. A place to share information about the latest and greatest social media outlet. A place for cheers when a post gets picked up by HuffPo or Scary Mommy. A place to make friends.

I’m so excited that in a few weeks I will be taking my blogging connections to the next level. I will be meeting some of my wonderful blogging friends IN PERSON at the Femworking Blogger and Small Business Conference, where Jill Smokler (a.k.a Scary Mommy herself) will be the keynote speaker. I can’t wait for the opportunity to strengthen my current blogging relationships – as well as make new ones – while discussing new tips and tricks to grow my blog.

Femworking is getting ready to select the final speaker for the conference. It would be such an honor to be on the blogger panel. If you think I would be a good choice, please let Femworking know on Twitter or Facebook and use the hashtag #Femcon13.

For new bloggers out there, my advice is this: Don’t blog alone! Reach out to established bloggers. Find the groups and conferences that are right for you and dive right in!

Don’t miss out on the “and then some.”

(It’s not too late to register for the Femworking conference! Would love to see you there!)

Health, Humor, Joke, Life, Uncategorized

Top 20 Dumbest Injuries, Part 1: The Wonder Years

September 19, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 19 Comments

You know those people you see in a cast and when asked what happened they tell this fascinating story of how they were competing in a triathalon or jumping from an airplane or saving a kitten from a tree?

I’m not one of them.

Whenever I get injured, it is always some ridiculous story that is too humiliating to share. Except here, of course. Nothing is too foolish or embarrassing to blog about.

I’ve never had stitches (except during surgery) or a cast (My breaks have been in spots that are uncastable. <—That should be a real word.). So I never considered myself “accident prone” until I started listing this series of misfortunate events. These are just the ones that came to mind quickly. I think I should start wearing bubble wrap.

1. My Little Pony (age 9) – I got a concussion from being thrown off a horse. And by thrown I mean slid off because I was riding without a saddle. And by horse I mean itty bitty pony. My head managed to find the sole rock in that field.

2. A Real Cliffhanger (age 10) – I was hiking on a mountain with my girl scout troop, carrying a heavy backpack. I’m not sure why we had backpacks. Probably to earn a patch of some sort. We were walking along the edge of a cliff and a sudden gust of wind knocked me over (Or I was just clumsy and slipped. Same thing, right?). I wouldn’t have plunged to my death or anything but it would have been a painful, bumpy slide down a very steep rocky hill. Plus there was a major highway at the bottom of the cliff. As I hung on to a boulder, I just started laughing hysterically (I’ve told you before I joke at inappropriate times.). The leader grabbed my hand and pulled me up. Everyone just stood there staring at me like I was a freak for cracking up at the thought of the rocks cracking me up. (And lest you think this is one of those childhood memories that gets exaggerated in the mind, I still drive by that cliff. Laughter was definitely NOT the proper response.)

3. Ice Ice Baby (age 14) – A friend and I routinely took a shortcut after gym class. Instead of maneuvering through the crowded hallway to our next class, we took the gym’s outside exit which included a large flight of concrete stairs. One day we stepped outside onto a sheet of ice. My friend slipped and bounced to the bottom of the stairs. I slipped but didn’t bounce. Unfortunately, my elbow stopped me. I couldn’t get myself off the stairs – not because of the pain – but because I was laughing so hard (Shocker.). By the time I got myself up and to the school office, my pants were completely soaked (from the ice, my bladder control was fine. Then.), I was in excruciating pain, AND I was in trouble for leaving the school building (Oh, did I forget to mention that taking our “shortcut” was against the rules? I guess they thought someone may get hurt or something. Psshaw.).

4. On The Fence (age 14) – While riding my bike on a gravel road, I did a perfect flip over the handlebars, landed (on my back) on a fence, flipped again and landed (on my butt) on the ground. Cirque Du Soleil would have been impressed. I’m sure this was my coolest looking mishap ever, but I had no witnesses and not a single scrape or bruise to prove it. I didn’t even break the fence.

5. Dope on the Slope Part I (age 16) – I went on a youth group ski trip. I suck at skiing and struggled on the bunny slope all day. When it was almost time for the bus to leave, a friend convinced me to try the medium slope before left. “I can’t handle skiing next to the 3 year olds on the almost flat snow and you want me to go on the big hills? Sure!!” (I suffered from ITS – Invincible Teenager Syndrome). To make matters worse, we got on the wrong lift and ended up on the advanced slope. With the reeaaallllyyyyy big hills. I wiped out getting off the lift and my “friend” left me in the ~~dust~~ snow. I crawled around to gather my skis and realized I had no idea how to get them back on. The lift operator finally took pity on me (and stopped the lift!) and came to help. I then had no choice but to ski down the enormous hill, alone. I was doing ok until my skiis fell off again and I realized I STILL didn’t know how to get them back on. I had visions of being left behind by the bus and found days later by a St. Bernard with a mini barrel of water around his neck. I actually attempted to WALK down the hill. Slippery snow, slippery boots and remaining upright? Impossible. As a last resort, I sat on my skis and slid the rest of the way down the hill on my butt. I got a lot of strange looks, but that was the most fun I had all day. It wasn’t until I was safely riding home on the bus that I realized my wrist was swollen. I’m not sure which of the (many) falls caused the injury.

6. The Frat Splat (age 17) – My very first weekend at college my Freshman year, I tore ligaments in my foot at a fraternity party. There was…ummm…soda…spilled on the floor and I slipped while rocking out to Mony Mony. (Well, I don’t know what song was playing but Mony Mony played at every single frat party ever so it’s a safe bet.) My suite mates – whom I had known for all of about 4 hours – started helping me hobble back to my dorm until the kind campus police stopped to see what all the hopping was about. They gave my roommate and me a ride (to the dorm, not the station). My roommate kept whispering emphatically for me to hold my breath. I must have had the hiccups or something (It was definitely not because I had too much soda.). The next day my roommate went with me to the ER and kept running my foot into walls and door frames while pushing my wheelchair. I think it was subconscious payback. Surprisingly she didn’t request a room assignment change.

7. Study Break or Study Broke? (Age 20) – I was lying on the floor studying for a college final when something popped in my lower back. I spent the next 6 months recovering from a slipped disc. From studying. Those text books need a warning label.

8. Dope on the Slope Part II (age 23) – When Jim and I were dating, we went skiing. Jim used to be a ski instructor so thought he could teach me. He underestimated my suckiness. While trying desperately to snow plow, I ended up completely off the course. I landed – doing the splits – in the muddy woods. Muddy because they don’t bother to put fake snow that far over since they assume no idiots will go there. (You know what happens when you assume? Well, unfortunately this assumption only made an ass out of ME.) It took me so long to try to get unstuck from the mud (and unstuck from the splits) that the rescue sled came because they assumed I was injured. Luckily the only thing hurt was my pride. And Jim’s eardrums.

Sadly my misadventures are too long for one post.

Tune in next time for Dumbest Injuries, Part 2: The Mrs. Years.

“Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others” [Ambrose Bierce The Devil’s Dictionary]

I bring you much good fortune.

Happiness, Humor, Inspiration, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized

Happy Birthday Momopolize (and the Real Reason I’m Obsessed with the Numbers)

August 21, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 20 Comments

Not many blogs get a birthday party. But mine did. Jim came home with cupcakes and a card. OK, ok. We look for any excuse to buy a cupcake, but still. He definitely got brownie points for that. Or cupcake points I suppose.

Some of you know that for the past couple of weeks I have become a bit “overly concerned” about some random goals I had set for myself. OK, maybe it was more than “a bit.” I couldn’t figure out why I was putting so much pressure on myself to meet these goals. No one made me set them. They were just numbers I chose. Nothing was going to happen if I didn’t make it. And nothing was going to happen if I did. I couldn’t figure out why I cared so much.

But now I do know why.

The goals I set were:

> 1,000 Facebook Fans
> 1,000 Twitter Followers
< 100,000 US Alexa Rank

I became pretty obsessed with these numbers. Just these three. I didn’t care about the numbers for Pinterest, Google+, Bloglovin’ or any of the other 247 social media sites out there. I didn’t even care about my number of email subscribers (which is arguably the most important). But why?

A couple of weeks ago, it was pretty obvious that #1 was not reachable. I was way more bummed about it than I should be. But why?

With only a few days left, I decided I couldn’t throw in the towel. I pulled out all the stops and asked for all the favors possible in a last-ditch effort. I just HAD to get there. But why?

My blogging buddies and real life friends came out in droves to share my page with their followers and friends.

And I made it! The moment I hit 1,000 I immediately went running to my kids to tell them. And THAT was the moment I realized why it mattered so much.

It was the look on their faces.

I spend so much of my time feeling guilty over being the “sick Mom.” The Mom that my kids hear talking about doctor’s appointments and naps and aches and pains. Others get to see the well-rested out-in-public me but my kids have to see the Mom that comes home exhausted. I worry that one day their childhood memories of me will consist of only that.

They never got to see the businesswoman me or the musician me or the anything-that-would-make-them-proud-of-me me. Until Momopolize. They think the blogger me is pretty darn cool.

Facebook fans impress them. Having more Twitter followers than them impresses them. Being ranked in the top 100,000 out of the 650,000,000 websites that exist in the world impresses them (Alexa ranks all websites, not just blogs. Google, Facebook, Amazon and the like are in the top 10.). Yeah, I really have no idea if that is the actual number of websites but that was the number I saw most often in a search and it sounds good to tell them I’m in the top .01%-ish.

So those numbers weren’t important to me because I want to achieve fame and fortune (well, a little fortune would be nice). It wasn’t to get that elusive book deal or attract bigger advertisers (well, yeah that would be nice too.).

Those numbers were important because for that moment I wasn’t sick Mom. I wasn’t even average Mom. In their eyes I was famous Mom. And maybe THAT will be what stays in their memory.

I mean, I KNOW those numbers don’t really mean all that much. I know of widely successful blogs that don’t even have a Twitter account. And others that have a huge Facebook following but only a few of those fans ever click on their blog posts. And my Alexa rank just shows me there must be a whole heck of a lot of websites that never ever ever get viewed. Like, ever! (You’re welcome for the Taylor Swift song that is now stuck in your head.)

But – shhhhhhhh – don’t tell my kids any of that. Let me be famous Mom for just a little longer.

Oh, and in case you are as easily impressed as my kids, when I started writing this my numbers were:

1,047 Facebook Fans
1,772 Twitter Followers
114,117 US Alexa Rank (I didn’t quite make it under 100,000 but we are just going to gloss over that for now and celebrate, k?)

And my goal for the coming year? To Momopolize the entire Blogiverse!!

(Or at least make my kids think I do.)

___

P.S. My next post will be more about my first year of blogging and the wonderful community that is out there, including a shout out to those who answered my plea for help on Facebook. (I intended to include that list in this post but have to leave for an appointment for a sick kitty, sorry!)

P.P.S. For those who have been around for a while, you know that 47 is my favorite number (Always has been. No idea why.). Anytime I talk about any kind of numbers, I will add 47 to the end. When I saw my Facebook number was ACTUALLY 1,047 it was like a blog birthday gift. I guess I’m easily impressed also…

Books, Giveaway, Humor, Life, Pet adoption, Uncategorized

Guest Post Week: It’s Swimsuit Season. Pass the Milk Duds (Laugh Lines)

July 22, 2013 momopolize@gmail.com 5 Comments

I first discovered Vikki when we were both in “Parenting Gag Reel – Hilarious Writes and Wrongs” (That isn’t a shameless plug, that is really where I first read her writing. Well, maybe it is a slightly shameless plug.). I was so excited to get my grubby little hands on a book that had my writing in it that I sat down with the intention of reading the entire book in one sitting. It is Vikki’s fault that I didn’t. Because when I got to her first story in the book I immediately went to her blog (after I picked myself up from laying on the floor hysterically laughing) and spent the next few ~~minutes~~ ~~hours~~ days reading more of her writing. The rest of the book had to wait until I had enough of my own “Laugh Lines” induced laugh lines.

I’m thrilled to introduce you to one of my favorite people….Heeeeeere’s Vikki!

_______

Vikki is a humor blogger, author, public speaker, and former humor columnist. Vikki writes, in hilarious sit-com style, about middle age, modern marriage, and her epic fails. She unabashedly shares with us her most embarrassing moments and laughs as hard as we do, which is why we love her!

This was originally posted on Laugh Lines. Vikki can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

It’s Swimsuit Season. Pass the Milk Duds.

Enjoying the warmer temperatures and anticipating upcoming spring weather, I took a look at my all-black closet and decided to go do some spring shopping for a little color. My plans took a slight shift when Kenny announced he’d like to join me, but then I envisioned a few new purchases, with a stop for a glass of yummy red wine at whatever outdoor cafe (okay, bar) that we found along the way, so we hopped in the car and headed for Portland.

Scratching my original plans for a leisurely, day-long stroll through my favorite boutiques (Kenny’s shopping style is more “get in, buy it, get out”), we hit the mall. Lights, noises, food courts, and miles of brightly lit windows featuring hot colors, shorter lengths, and summer fabrics.

Found a store we liked, where I grabbed a few colorful pieces and a swimsuit, and happily headed for the dressing room, imagining my trendy summer style. 15 minutes later, the day was going south on a luge. The cute pink jeans wouldn’t budge past my thighs. Seriously?? I peeled them off and checked the size. Yep, size 8. Apparently that refers to my knees, not my hips, because those suckers weren’t going all the way up in this lifetime. Tossed them over the swinging door in a disgusted heap and grabbed the shorts (yeah, THERE’S a good idea. If the jeans don’t fit, try the shorts). Hopped up and down trying to heave-HO them up far enough to button the waist until I finally squeezed the snap shut. Oh. My. God. I looked like a giant banana-nut muffin. And when did my thighs start jiggling?? They didn’t jiggle last year. But there they were, in all their white, tanless glory, shaking like jello shots to the beat of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun blaring over the loudspeaker, which wouldn’t have been so depressing if I hadn’t been STANDING STILL.

I looked up to see Kenny poke his head over the door, smiling, “I found a few pair of jeans for myself while I was waiting.” “Did you try them on?” I asked. “Don’t need to. They’re a 36. They’ll be fine.” “Hating you just a little bit right now.”

In my final act of desperation, I grabbed the swimsuit (one-piece, skirted bottom, very 40s pin-up retro, and black. Could work). Size 8-10? Yeah, if you live in Taiwan and your fit model is a 12-year-old BOY. I looked like a weiner dog stuffed into a tube top, with skin squishing out at both ends. By now I’m in tears, and Kenny is calling through the door, “Is there anything I can get for you, sweetie?” A hankie, I sniffled. And a gun. Meanwhile, the 14-year-old anorexic salesgirl, with impossibly long, firm legs, chirps out, “Don’t worry, ma’am,” (ma’am??) “It’s not summer yet. You still have time.” To do what?? Lose the same 10 pounds I’ve been working on since 1974? Oh shut up and go eat a cheeseburger.

We bought Kenny’s new jeans and left my new clothes, along with the last shred of my self-esteem, on the dressing room floor. On our way to the winery, Kenny suggested a quick stop at Safeway for a few essentials. At day’s end, you’ve got to love a man who watches you toss Milk Duds, Hot Tamales, Fig Newtons, Ice Cream Sandwiches, Lucky Charms, and half a dozen bottles of wine (10% off with 6!) into the cart, while wailing the entire time about how hard it is to lose weight, and who has the good grace (and natural survival skills) not to say a word.

(Now head over to Laugh Lines for some more laughs!!)

Momopolize