A few days ago, I was chatting with my husband about how amazing it was that our kids have never known a country where there wasn’t a black president and could potentially be a woman president. (Full disclosure, I did not vote for Barack Obama for a second term, and am not sure for whom I am voting in the current election. My personal politics aside, I can still recognize the importance of this moment in history.) We also talked about how same-sex couples are no longer taboo, and how it probably won’t be an awkward conversation when our kids ask why so-and-so has two mommies. I left that conversation feeling optimistic about the future. Maybe the world really wasn’t so awful. After Orlando, I was happy to feel that way again.
So if you are not one who likes to dwell under rocks, you know about the British Exit from the European Union, which U.K. citizens passed by a margin of nearly 52 per cent. Yes, the whole thing has caused mass panic across the globe, but let’s not forget about the awesome term that was spawned by this madness: “Brexit.” I say, this word is up for grabs, and I am about to mommify the shit out of it.
So, vote yes on these 10 alternatives for “Brexit.”
The title of this post should be clear enough, but just in case, let me begin by stating that I am in no way, shape or form an expert on child elimination strategy . I am just a mom sharing her experiences with potty training her own kid, in the hopes that it may help other parents. If you need a professional opinion, please consult a pediatrician, therapist or other appropriate person.
My three-year-old loves playing with other kids, probably because he spends the majority of his time with me and his one-year-old brother, and that isn’t always a recipe for good times. He craves interaction with other children, and would probably live at the park if I let him. He has no problem approaching unfamiliar kids at the playground and eagerly trying to partake in whatever game they are playing. Continue reading
To quote Shark Tank’s Mr. Wonderful, I am a “nothing burger” in the blog space. My followers number in the hundreds, not thousands. My page views can be as little as zero on a given day. And, only a handful of promotional opportunities have come my way, none paying. Because, burger status.
So, when I stumbled across something which called out the problems with mommy bloggers, I thought, “This is pretty harsh, but she raises some good points.” Understandably, others vehemently disagreed and the comments came flying in. Though the author was banned from the group from which she had chosen to share her post, it didn’t stop the discussion on what should be said or not said in this space so many share.
You did it. You managed to piece together some semblance of an outfit that doesn’t include a t-shirt stained with child excrement and the pajama pants you have been wearing for the past two days. You even smeared on some make up before your toddler decided to use your eyeliner for his latest art project. You stealthily escaped from your home and are now ready to enjoy a child-free evening.
Then by some cruel twist of the universe, you soon discover your night out will not in fact be “adults only.” You spent so much time trying to get away from kids only to discover you and your partner will be enjoying your 10 p.m. dinner next to a family with four-year-old triplets.
Judaism is a religion of numbers. Every aspect of life is marked by an important numerical value. We wait eight days to celebrate the birth of a baby boy. We find our moral code in the ten commandments. We read from the five books of the Torah. At Passover, we even sing a song, “Echad Mi Yodaya (Who Knows One?),” detailing many of the important numbers of Judaism. From one to 101, every number has a deep, spiritual meaning.