First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

Source: Bossypants

Click here for the details…

Check them out here.

By the way…these fun and functional toilet targets are on sale now (through 3/16 for $7 for 2 sets) @ Gilt Group.

Time change mania

A year ago the “Spring forward” and “Fall back” time changes barely phased me at all. Sure… I may have had to wake up an hour earlier for work the day of the Spring time change or had the leisure of getting an extra hour of sleep in the Fall. And, of course, I looked forward to having an extra hour of daylight to accommodate a post-work jog when we sprang ahead. But that was about it. The time-change days went on business-as-usual and, frankly, if I didn’t have a reason to consult a clock during those days they may have come and gone without my even noticing.

This too has changed with motherhood. On Sunday we lost an hour and, collectively, our little family nearly lost our minds.

We let our almost-one-year-old sleep until she woke up. ”Why not ? It’s Sunday“, I thought…

Big mistake.

Because of my not waking her up at the “new” 7:30, naptimes were off, mealtimes were off, and playtimes were off. As a result, our little girl was DEFINITELY off. She slept too long during her (oddly timed) naps and didn’t want dinner. Then she went on a manic playing spree and got herself so worked up that she threw up all over me, my husband and herself and earned herself 2 bathtimes. When all was said and done, she ended up going to bed 30 minutes late (or 30 minutes early by the previous day’s clock) exhausted and (probably) a bit hungry. We ended up going to bed two hours early and equally exhausted.

Lesson number 1,784,245 of motherhood: Have a strategy in place for time changes. I know we will going forward (or going BACK as the case will be in the Fall)!

b. children's wear sea glass tank

For clothes as unique as your kid, check out b. childrens wear on Etsy. We love their casual styling, the simple yet impactful designs.  Whether it is the sea glass tank you see pictured or the adorable Herman the Hedgehog t-shirt, I can assure you that both you and your kid will love it. You’ll love the attention to detail and reasonable prices and your kid will love the coolness factor of 10 that wearing his sword tshirt will give him on the playground.

Check out their full line here.

Lexi's First Swim Lesson

Seeing as our dear child is mastering the art of the bath,  complete with the requisite splashing and bath water drinking (literally bends down and laps it up like our cats), I thought it might be time to consider getting her started with swim lessons.  And, of course, there is that whole water safety thing that might come in handy.  Fortunately for us, Beverlywood Swim School is just down the street.

Today is the day and we are ready to go.  I’ve been hyping this up to her for days, so you know she’s excited.  I’ve scheduled it at the best time to ensure a napped and fed child.

“It’s swimming lesson day, sweetie!  Aren’t you excited to go in the pool?”, I over-enthusiastically declare when I enter her room.  Her sleepy eyes look at me with a bit of confusion and then she simply points to her latest obsession – a wood frog.  “Daa Daa”, she barks. Translation – “I want that”.  I take this as a good sign, since frogs like water.  I continue my chatter about how much fun swimming will be. I tell her how great she is going to be at it. I remind her about the times she’s been in the pool and how much fun it was. “Daa Daa”, she yells, as a mild look of annoyance crosses her face.

After an adamant refusal to take a morning nap, we head out.  THIS is going to be an event.  THIS is going to be our special outing for the day.  I get her suited up – cloth swim diaper, check.  SPF 50+ swim top, check, sunscreen – check. Pile her in the stroller and head out. First stop:  Dolce Isola, for her favorite whole wheat roll for a little carbo load. Second stop: Beverlywood Swim Mecca. Lexi is all eyes.  As we wait our turn with the handsome young swim instructor, Lexi is practically leaping out of my arms to get in the pool with him. And frankly, I can’t blame her.

“Yeah!”, I think.  This is going to be so great – my kid is going to be swimming in no time.

Now it is her turn, and little Miss Dolphin has suddenly gone a wee bit shy. But with a little prodding from hottie hottie instructor she coyly climbs into his arms. He knows just how to handle a shy girl, chats with her and shows her all kinds of confidence-inducing inflatable frogs, dolphins & whales hanging above the pool. If she doesn’t dive out of his arms and swim like a fish, I’d be amazed.  But no, her 20 minutes in the pool consisted of being carried from one end of the pool to the other by cutie patootie,  chatting and giggling. Hmmm…….we don’t have a fish!  We have a flirt!

Although the swim lesson was quick, I’m confident that both of us will thoroughly enjoy our twenty minutes with sweet young cute swim instructor manboy.

I am so sorry, sweetheart

I remember the first bad haircut my mom gave me. I was in fourth grade and desperately wanted feathered hair. My mother, not wanting to spring for a fancy salon style, decided she could do it herself. So, with no prior experience, she pulled out the kitchen shears and went Farah Fawcett on my waist length, stick straight, blond locks. Let’s just say the outcome was not exactly what we had planned…and my awkward years became just a bit more awkward.

Given how this memory is burned in my psyche you would think I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near my 11 month olds unruly bangs. Wrong. They just kept creeping into her eyes and were clearly driving her crazy. I just HAD to liberate her from those distracting wisps! So during bathtime two days ago I meticulously combed her wet bangs forward and trimmed them to well above her eyebrows with her (curved) nail scissors.

Those of you who know anything about the art of cutting hair will quickly clue in on the two things I did wrong. Cutting her hair to where I wanted it to end up when it was wet was mistake number one. It shrunk quite a bit when it dried. Thinking I could cut a straight line with curved nail scissors was mistake number two. Let’s just say they angle up a bit. To sum up the situation, my 11 month old daughter (and her uber-short blunt cut angled bangs) looks like she should be delivering a poetry reading in a smoky coffee house.

On the plus side, I have learned my lesson and will leave future trims to the professionals. Another plus, Gioia is still too young to be permanently scarred by this experience (unlike me and my fourth grade “feathers”).

"Luck o the Irish" handmade patchwork skirt by Gocks Frocks

Oh how I love a sweet patchwork skirt for girls!  When I found Gocks Frocks on Etsy – I knew that soon one of these gems would be my sweet Lexi’s. The owner Kristen, a SAHM, clearly knows fun design for kids.  Easy to wear, easy to wash and in beautiful vibrant colors, each piece is its own masterpiece. With St. Patrick’s Day just around the corner – I LOVE the ‘Luck o’ the Irish’ patchwork skirt.  Perhaps, we’ll catch that leprechaun afterall!

One of many St. Patty's Day books available on Amazon.com!

The first few weeks of March were exciting in my house when I was a child. They found my sister and I giggling – wondering what mishief Patrick and Aaron would get into.

Who were Patrick and Aaron?

Patrick was my leprechaun and Aaron was my sister’s. We never saw them, but they visited every year on March 17^th while we were at school or otherwise occupied. They turned the furniture upside down in our rooms. They managed to outsmart our leprechaun traps. They left us notes signed with cute little footprints…and chocolate gold coins. In short, they made St. Patrick’s day REALLY REALLY fun and March 1-16 full of preparation, kiddo strategizing and anticipation.

I can’t wait to duplicate this fun St. Patty’s day experience for my daughter Gioia. She is still too young to fully enjoy it this year (and probably next year) but I thought I’d share some of these goodies with all of you!

Building anticipation with your kiddos:

Build a leprechaun trap. Click here for one “how to” website.

Read leprechaun stories. Amazon has a great selection. Click here for a short list.

For Mom: Making St. Patty’s Day a day to remember:

Use a doll and dip her feet in washable green paint and put little green foot prints all over their tables…

Turn chairs and furniture over

Scatter belongings and green glitter

Leave a treasure map and bury (or hide) a black box or treasure chest that is filled with green and/or gold things!

Leave a personalized note from your kiddos very own leprechaun that will visit year after year…