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Friday Feb. 12
Saturday Feb. 13
Sunday Feb. 14
Monday Feb. 15
Disclaimer: Sometimes I make mistakes or things change. Please use the web links or phone numbers to doublecheck times, dates and other information before heading out.
Now that I'm a relatively experienced mama, I've lost the anguish felt the first time a child under my care ever stared and pointed at someone who looked differently: whether because of darker skin, an obvious physical disability, or other not-typical appearance. I've learned to respond with equanimity or avoidance when appropriate: "Yes, there are a lot of different people on the bus!" or "Sweetie, let's use our quiet voices please." And what to do when a four-year-old kindly, loudly asks about "the old lady over there" when you suspect she's only middle-aged? An urbanNanny asks:
The 18-month-old girl that I watch has been crying every time we are near a person in a wheelchair. These experiences on the Max or in a coffeeshop we frequent are likely the only times she has seen a person in a wheelchair. When the crying happens it appears (by the look on her face) that she is scared, so I have been talking to her about how it is okay, that the person uses a chair to get around and that she uses her legs or a stroller. I'm not sure how to best handle the situation so I would love to post this as a discussion topic to get advice.
I've often subscribed to the "tell as much of the truth, as simply, as you can and leave it at that" philosophy -- she's using that tactic admirably -- but when a child is visibly or audibly upset by a different-looking stranger, what do you do? How best to balance the child's own needs (is she unusually sensitive and empathetic?) with your desire not to hurt another human being's feelings?
My heart hurts, and my stomach: a few minutes ago, I yelled at Everett. He's seven-and-a-half, and as his dad has been away for the past two weeks doing Army duty -- he'll be away again later this month, and then, in May, he'll be mobilized to serve in Iraq for more than a year -- I'm asking the oldest boy to be far more responsible than I probably should. I know how this goes; I, too, am the oldest child of a large family, and distinctly remember feeling so infused with the responsibility of my first-born role, before I even started kindergarten I'd have nightmares in which I was the only one who could save my whole family from a house fire, an out-of-control car.
I'd been struggling with Monroe, who had dumped a quarter-cup of vanilla into the cookies, and was wailing when I wouldn't let him swipe enormous finger-fulls of butter, maple syrup, and oh, that vanilla. He was holding his arm and crying, "owe, owe, OWE!" -- I'd "hurt" him by holding his arm back from the bowl after five illicit tastes. Everett could help, I knew it: he's great with his little brother and I often look to him to fill in with patience when I've lost it.
But Everett was deep in a farm game on the iPod, and wasn't having any of this man-of-the-house baloney. I ordered him off, or else; he ran upstairs in tears. There I was: spreading my ill-patience around to the rest of the family instead of healing it. I took my breaths, set Monroe in front of the left-behind iPod, and went to apologize. But, honestly, my apology wasn't that great. I had to tell him, look, kid: when I am losing my temper and need your help, there's no one else. You have to be my go-to guy. For years.
While I work on controlling my temper, I also have this weighty question hanging heavy in the air like the scent of caramelizing vanilla: how do I temper the duty burden I'm sure to be yoking on Everett's shoulders for years to come? Where do I strike the balance between the trust and reliability I know he's earned, on one hand; and his very real needs for emotional development on the other? Have others here juggled this, whether because of being a single parent, or having a partner who frequently travels, or works very long hours? I'd love to hear your stories.
[And oh yes: the cookies turned out great. Way too much vanilla was just right.]
When I wrote about going shampoo-free a few weeks ago, I had no idea it would inspire such great discussion, action, and several more ways to release myself from the bonds of "product" I've been struggling against since adolescence. Joanna left a comment that once more set me free. "i also
haven't "washed" my face in 10 months and no longer have the cystic
acne which i was told once by a dermatologist would be with me for the
rest of my life unless i took accutane, but i guess that's another blog
post."
Indeed, said I, and emailed her for more information. She said she has been using the oil cleansing method (OCM). I Googled around a bit, and found this amazing and detailed post on Simple Mom. I chose to make my mix of about 1/3 olive oil and 2/3 castor oil (purchased at Walgreens, found among other methods of constipation relief) -- good for oily skin -- and tried it a few days later. I've been having trouble with painful blemishes on my shoulders and upper back, so I tried it there, too.
Within a few hours, my skin felt better than it has for a long time. It was already looking smoother and more even, too, and the next day I realized some of the acne on my back was healed entirely. It was such a simple, elegant use of natural ingredients; and the process is restful and relaxing too. I doubt I'll ever buy product for my face again and you can bet I won't be spending my luxury money (at that time in the future when I have some, that is) on spa facials again. After all, I have them right here at home.
Continue reading "Cleaning your face with oil: An urbanMamas green thing" »
Is there any annual holiday whose crafts I more enjoy than Valentine's Day? It's definitely on my top three. But many years, I find myself cutting out hearts as the sun sets on the 13th, watching the missed opportunities for Valentine delight setting along with them.
Determined to not let this year be a missed opportunity, a few of us urbanMamas are gathering Saturday at 3 p.m. at CHAP (the Children's Healing Art Project), a nonprofit that provides in-hospital art experiences for sick children and a space in the Pearl District -- the Art Factory -- to host open art "play" during weekends and daily throughout the holiday season. We'll be making Valentines with our kids and hope you can come too!
1030 NW Marshall
Saturday, February 6
3 - 5 p.m.
Please let us know if you plan to come in the comments; we'll be picking up the $5/child tab for those urbanMama families who join in.
This email comes in at the very moment my husband is trolling craigslist and online furniture stores, considering upgrading our queen-sized bed to a king-sized one. Many mornings, there are four bodies in the bed: myself, my husband, our six-year old, and our four-month old. It is a super-cozy situation, but it just may be too snug.
An urbanMama recently emailed, thinking proactively, about how her bed may also soon be occupied
by four bodies. Both she & I would love to hear your thoughts:
I have a 3 1/2 year old that we recently transitioned (mostly) to her own bed. She starts the night in her bed and comes into our bed at some point in the night - sometimes before midnight, other times not until it's nearly time to rise and shine. We don't consider this a problem - we've never been fans of forced solo-sleeping. The issue is I'm pregnant with #2. We'd like to co-sleep with the second child, but are concerned about our daughter coming into the bed and it being too crowded or her rolling over onto the new baby. I'd love to know how other co-sleeping families have dealt with this. Do we have to make a choice between the two? Are there other, more creative ways to continue to co-sleep as our family grows?
Friday Feb. 5
Saturday Feb. 6
Sunday Feb. 7
Coming up:
Midwife and craniosacral therapy teacher Carol Gray is holding a series of free clinics this spring and summer offering craniosacral therapy for infants six months and younger. Some are treatment demonstrations for her students (in which she or graduates of her program treat babies while students observe); others involve supervised student practitioner treatments. Spring dates include include Feb. 19 at Alma Midwifery, March 15-19 at a Northwest Portland seminar and April 28 at Nurture, 1614 NE Alberta St. Appointments must be arranged with Gray. For more information on the clinics and treatment, visit her website.
Also, the 33rd Annual Portland International Film Festival Feb. 11-27 is offering quite a few matinee showings of their five family-friendly films this year: Letter to the King from the Netherlands; Moomin and Midsummer Madness from Finland; A Shine of Rainbows from Canada and Ireland; A Town Called Panic from Belgium and Through a Glass, Darkly from Norway. Tickets are $10 for adults and $7 for children 12 and under. You can check the schedule of showings, buy tickets, and even see trailers online.
Disclaimer:
Sometimes I make mistakes or things change. Please use the web links or phone
numbers to doublecheck times, dates and other information before heading out.
This morning, Olivia heads back to work, her maternity leave for her third babe concluded. I think I'm feeling all of the things she must be feeling, for her: it's so hard to go back to work! (Plus, we loved having her extra energy here on urbanMamas.) We know how many things are on a mama's mind when she heads back to work, and the more children at home (at least for me), the more conflicted I felt.
We've chatted before about some of the mechanics of going back to work; whether struggling to bottle-feed a baby who'll be without mama's breast for several hours a day, the logistics of a nanny share; some thoughts on how to return to work after a long absence; and about how much leave we'd want (were we to have a say in such things). But today, let's tell stories about returning to work: how long had you been at home? How did you feel? What was the first day like? Did you feel a little guilty enjoying that unencumbered walk to the coffee shop, the feel of "nice clothes" on your freshly-showered skin? Or did you sit down at your desk that first morning and resolve to fight for laws requiring longer, paid leave for parents everywhere? (yeah!)
I don't know about you, but I've been angry about bisphenol-A (BPA) for years (literally). It's in our bodies, in food and beverage containers (among other things, like retail receipts), and it ain't good for us. Especially babies (and pregnant women). The U.S. FDA *finally* acknowledged some concern about this toxic chemical a few weeks back, but plans to study it for a few more years before doing anything more than studying it - some more. Well I for one don't have time to wait.
Which is why I'm so thrilled about Oregon Senate Bill 1032, which would phase the toxic chemical out of all reusable food and beverage containers (think: baby bottles and sippy cups) and formula cans and baby food jars (single use) intended for children under 3. 'Bout time.
You can help pass this bill - it's easy!
If we don't tell our state legislators that we're tired of BPA and support this bill, how will they know how important it is to us? Simple: they won't. So here's what you can do:
Industry lobbyists want this bill to fail. Do you?
As Truman is heading to kindergarten next year, he's going to be ending his preschool journey in June. He's in an MESD program at Grout, meant to provide an opportunity for children qualifying for early intervention to learn alongside "peers," kids who don't qualify but love the $5-per-session (and less for those on low incomes) rates. It's lovely: close to home, with caring teachers, FREE. But it's on a two-hours-and-twenty-five minutes timetable, three days a week. Just barely enough to give him a chance to learn a little bit about letters and numbers and seasons and how important it is to follow rules about cleanup and sharing: not enough to give me a chance to actually get anything done in the meantime.
Typically, I treasure the days, like today, that he's off school; in order to get him in the door at 11:50, I'm feeding him a snack at 11 and doing the get-ready dance for him and Monroe for the next 20 or 30 minutes. By 1:45 I'm looking at my watch every two minutes, interrupting any train of thought I'd been able to establish what with Monroe, longing for the human interaction he craves, holding his hands on either side of my face asking me to look at something -- his nose, a Pokemon card, a Hot Wheels race car.
As Monroe will be three this summer, when his big brother is heading for kindergarten I'll be left to decide whether to put him in preschool. I definitely don't have room in my budget for any longer, less public school-y preschool program; it's the MESD seven or eight hours a week, or nothing. Today, loving the flexibility of my time and the space I have to let my trains of thought play all the way out before I interrupt them for snacks and bike rides, I'm leaning toward foregoing preschool altogether for my third kid.
But... Truman's definitely benefited; he really needed the "discipline," if you can call it that, preschool provides; the structure is something he craves and I'm not great at affording; the social opportunities are hard to live without. Life without preschool for my youngest would require at least a little investment in playdates and a mama who could promise herself to dedicate a little time each day to crafts and books. (I love them. I just don't always manage to fit them into writing-housework-bills-errands-bread baking-chicken feeding-etc.)
What do you all think: how much preschool is too little? Have any of you let preschool be when faced with such a decision (and only one child still at home)? How much "curriculum" (hah) do you do? Crafts and books and seasons, oh my? Do you paint with your young child? Schedule many playdates? I'd love to hear how you've organized your life around preschool, if you too have decided "that much is not enough."
An urbanPapa friend and I engaged in a lively philosophical debate via chat yesterday evening while I should have been cooking dinner. At issue, the looming opening of school choice transfer applications for kindergarteners -- this Friday, January 29, at 8 a.m. schools throughout the district will begin accepting them, as well as registration forms for neighborhood kindergarteners. Should he apply for transfer, or just accept the fate his home purchase a decade or more ago had set for him?
I told him I thought Atkinson, his neighborhood choice, was a good one; he wondered about the test scores there, which were not what you'd call a "home run." Atkinson got a grade of "satisfactory" in the District's report cards [pdf link] (you can find other Oregon district report cards, with data on individual schools, here.) He asked what was partly a rhetorical question: "do test scores matter?"
My perspective was this: test scores are a snapshot that tells you how well third, fourth and fifth graders in your district take tests. It has much to do with demographics; students who are minorities typically do worse, as do those for whom English is a second language. Yes, we know this, he said, but white students in Atkinson weren't doing great, either. This, I said, was again a snapshot of demographics; poorer students do worse, on average. This tells you nothing more than "the majority students in my school are not, on average, students with the high level of parent involvement that guarantees better results on standardized tests." It is not a reflection, I said, on teacher competence or whether or not your child will thrive there. It's just a demographic snapshot. Unless your neighborhood school is a war zone (I'm not saying we don't have any of those in Portland, just unless), your risk of a bad educational experience is equally great at a great neighborhood school, a poor neighborhood school, a charter school, or a private school.
He countered, saying, "there is no question that educational reputation affects people's lives. I can't say it affects whether they are happy, but it does affect what kind of jobs they get. For example, top competitive positions at corps and in government are filled predominantly by people from about 5 or 10 universities. Ivy League plus a few others. Shouldn't I give him that opportunity if it's there for me?" He acknowledged that stating this was a departure for him; he'd just as soon give a screed on how owning land should be illegal.
Yes, I said, but there are so many unknowns for a kindergartener, and the test results of kids who are now in fourth grade -- who won't interact with your son at all -- are hardly likely to influence this much.
Continue reading "Kindergarten roundups: The big giant fat decision" »
Economic data determined that women were no longer benefiting economically from marriage (as had been the case up until now), and everyone's opining. Not least, the New York Times, which rounded up a variety of responses to the so-called "Alpha Wives" issue. I appreciate the perspective of Andrew J. Cherlin, who points out that most women don't earn more than men, and this isn't really a revolution so much as an anomaly that's now returning to its baseline, writing: "The idea of a “housewife” who exclusively cared for the children and the home only emerged in the 20th century as Americans migrated to cities and as factories replaced farms. What’s happening today is that we are returning to the more typical kind of family in which women’s work of all sorts — which now includes earning money — is crucial. That kind of family was fully accepted until the mid-20th century, and there is no reason to think it will be rejected now." In my family, I think this is the direction we're headed.
Perhaps we didn't need this research as inspiration to encourage our teenagers to avoid alcohol and drugs. But news that alcohol abuse does permanent damage to a teen's developing brain is, at least, one more piece of ammunition we can use in our well-reasoned, rational arguments for our kids to avoid the stuff.
Never one to shy away from an opportunity to hyperbolize food, I was enthralled with my neighbor Camellia's email today, asking me to try a recipe for raw, vegan "brownies," and write about them here in the context of life-changing food. What, she asked, are the simple, healthy, delicious recipes we couldn't feed our families without?
Immediately, I thought of my favorite shortbread cookies, made with measures of brown rice flour, whole wheat flour, and white flour; honey; and plenty of butter. They put me at peace despite the fat content; it's all whole "real" foods and it's giving us the sweet cookie fix we all crave with a hefty dose of whole grains and none of the processed sugar I've come to fear. I also love the "recipe" Truman and I devised; stir together plain hazelnut or sunflower butter, honey, and a few drops of vanilla, eat with a spoon (that was breakfast today). And of course, there are zinemama's zucchini carrot muffins, shared with us just yesterday (great way to use up frozen grated zucchini!).
As soon as I have 20 minutes to shell the walnuts (gathered, appropriately, from the enormous tree behind her house), I plan to try these out; she, like me, had been treating herself regular with pieces of chocolate bar and these -- with only the whole-foods sugar of the dates -- are a far less compromising luxury. And if you like these, also try the homemade "Lara Bar" recipes here and here. Please, share your recipes that delight both kid and parent alike with their delicious wholesomeness! Camellia's and my recipes are in the "more" portion of the post.
Continue reading "urbanMamas snack: The recipes that changed our lives" »
Food writer Amanda Hesser said 'Bravo!' to Jennifer Steinhaeur for her essay in today's New York Times on snack food, and more pointedly, our parental addiction to the practice. "Of the many horrors that lurk in the e-mail in-box of a working parent ... nothing quite rivals the snack request," she writes. "Not a month goes by without someone somewhere asking me to serve up some snack for an event that one of my children will attend and
that, generally speaking, will not last more than 90 minutes." Perhaps that opening line is a bit maudlin (umm, I can think of plenty of horrors worse), but she gets around to pointing out that kids eat too many snacks, they expect to eat too many snacks, and we organize around it! "Rarely do I see a parent show up on the soccer field with a homemade
snack, or even a bag of carrots. Oreos are the post-game snack of
choice, even in sports leagues dominated by upper-income parents." She suggests we could have kids bring their own snacks... or maybe no snacks? That last bit sounds right to me! I'm always amazed at the capacity of my children to eat awfully healthy food, when they haven't just filled up on fruit leather and cookies. No snacks it is.
On NPR, we learn that Army wives worry (a lot) (no, a LOT) while their husbands are at war. I've written about this and my husband hasn't even left for war (still, no orders). The study learns that military wives whose husbands have been deployed have a lot of anxiety, depression, and sleep disorders: but the support system for these problems isn't in place. I've noticed a distinct difference recently in the Army's approach to mental health; I think I have high hopes.
The setting: the dining room table. The activity: Finishing homework the night before it's due. The result: A battle of wills like you've never witnessed before. There will be many broken pencils, gray hairs, and with a little luck (because effort is not even part of this equation) there will be a finished assignment. Things always come up, like a more interesting speck of dust, or the need to pee (5 times in 20 minutes). Eventually, most of it will get done. And this is just First Grade! Boy, are we in for it! So please, mamas, do you have any tricks? Tips? How do you get homework done without getting into a brawl?
urbanMama Margaret Foley shared a new survey from Britain, that country always ready to share a completely unscientific but nonethless fascinating poll with the world: 8:25 a.m. has been named the most stressful time in the day. Greatly adding to this stressful time: the fact that many mothers are driving to work, which compounds the stress (another bonus to biking and public transporting: not perfect zen, but for me, less stressful).
Many green-leaning mamas were linking to this item in the New York Times about therapists reporting many "green disputes" among couples. I was not surprised that most of the interviewees were from Portland. In fact, I'm fairly certain this makes up 56% of all couples counselling sessions. Including my own, where tussles over food were chief amongst the topics of discussion one recent summer; and now we've moved on to my exaggerated sighs when he borrows a car to do (in my opinion) bike-able errands. Again?
As with everything, I launched into it without much thought. "You see," I told the boys one night last week, "many people in this country used to think people who looked different than them -- with darker skin or different hair or different-shaped noses -- weren't as good as them. They even sometimes thought they weren't fully human, like animals or something! Isn't that awful?"
"That sounds pretty stupid to me," said Everett. He's the oldest, seven-and-a-half. Emboldened, I marched on, describing how people who needed to make decisions they weren't totally comfortable with -- like owning people, treating them horribly as slaves, making them do the worst work and endure terrible living conditions -- used this ethical trap to convince themselves it was o.k. "If they believed it, then they wouldn't think of themselves as so mean and awful," I said. "And it made them feel good, to think of themselves as better than these other people."
Lately, I've been referring to Hitler in a few different contexts, telling Everett the story of the man who put the heads on Pez (I had discovered he'd ended up working for the same Nazis who had sent his entire family to their deaths in concentration camps, after the war, and been stunned by this) and another story about the man who first put jigsaw puzzles on cardboard, making them available to the masses (his family, too, had needed escape from Nazis; we don't know if they made it).
It's context that I feel the kids need to understand why Martin Luther King, Jr's speech is so important -- why it is I still cry when I hear it, for the umpteenth time -- how our generous minds let us take cruel shortcuts, sometimes, without owning up to the cost. How we build up a whole infrastructure around this cruelty, laws and societal norms and unkind jokes, to protect our fragile consciences from the truth.
Continue reading "talking to kids about Martin Luther King, Jr., race relations, and ethics" »
In case you're inside this weekend, watching the rain, here's a few recent Activistas posts to wile the time away. They range from donating breastmilk (there's a shortage in Denver!) to supporting Measures 66/67 to the economics of motherhood discussion series, and back. So grab some tea and start reading....
I’ve been thinking a lot about emergency preparedness lately, but the tragic earthquake in Haiti really drove home how unprepared my family is for an emergency of any kind. No cache of water, no extra stores of food. No plan about who is going to pick up which kid and meet where. In having these conversations with my husband, he wants to stash some cash and a gun somewhere in the house. And while that may (or may not!) seem extreme, it certainly seems easy enough to make sure we have some working flashlights and candles in the house. I can't imagine going even a couple days without using my cell phone, internet, or debit card, but I guess in a true crisis that is what we might be looking at. There are some great local resources for creating emergency kits and developing plans for locating and reconnecting with family members. Does your family have these things and what do they look like? Have you communicated to your kids, close friends, and family members what your plan is?
Two of us now have immersed ourselves head-first into a practice that's more liberation than environmental imperative (though it's that, too): we've left the shampoo behind. A practice that's known by the stinky moniker "no 'poo" -- or "what everybody did until the 1970s" -- living without shampoo can be as simple as just rinsing your hair with hot water when you shower. Even at its most complex, the shampoo-free routine consists of a few rinses each week with a solution of apple cider vinegar (about a tablespoon) and water (about a cup) and the occasional baking soda solution (a teaspoon of baking soda in a cup of water).
The important thing about giving up shampoo is recognizing that our miraculous bodies were not manufactured for the profitability of beauty-products companies. In fact: human hair restores its natural balance and loses that greasy, unwashed feeling after as little as a week or two. Shetha's hair, here, is without shampoo for only a few weeks; I haven't used anything but the occasional cursory rub of Dr. Bronner's bar soap for months, and removed the shampoo from my grocery list a year ago (at first, I used a vinegar solution once a week or so). A piece on NPR last spring noted that washing hair every day removes the sebum oil our sebaceous glands produce to keep our hair healthy (and, straight out of that Pantene commercial, shiny!). Our sebaceous glands react and produce more oil, more often. Take away the detergents? And you get sebaceous glands that behave the way God intended, prettier hair and a more healthy scalp.
No one used shampoo, or washed their hair at all, until the late 1800s. For the next century, women used shampoos once or twice a month. In the 1970s, shampoo companies went on a campaign to "educate" us on the need to shampoo daily. Thanks guys! This hasn't been good for anybody; not only have we become dependent on harsh chemicals that strip our hair of the natural healthy sebum, but we've greatly harmed our watersheds and wildlife by washing that stuff right out of our hair... and down the drain. Here's the effect of phosphorus; surfactants are terrifically harmful for fish. Even the "green" ones can be problematic.
These two heads of hair are proof: going without shampoo isn't a hardship. Have any of you gone shampoo-free? How is it going? Do you have questions? Tips? Let us know!
There is nothing like a mama singing a tune to soothe the littlest of babes. When any of the babies would fuss, my favorite go-to song would be "Hush little baby, don't say a word...." except I didn't know all the words. Then, suddenly, after I bought baby a "looking glass" and said glass got "broke", I'd buy baby a "billy goat". And after said billly goat wasn't "fine", I was somehow buying baby a "porcupine" or "turpentine". It was all downhill from there. The goal was to keep the song going for as long as possible for the best soothing results.
Now, instead of making up strange-but-rhyming lyrics for baby tunes, I am sticking with the "ABC Song" as my go to baby lullaby. But, it gets a little boring. And, I have to say that my two older kids are getting tired of the ABCs too. Help a mama out: What is your favorite baby lullaby to sing? And, are the lyrics easy to remember?!
I read Babble's 'Top 50 Mommy Bloggers' with mixed feelings. First, I was pleased that a local blogger or two and many mamas (and one dad) I consider longtime friends -- people who really deserve approbation for years of hard work and amazing content -- were getting recognition. There was ParentHacks, who won the category 'Most Useful'; I really think of Asha as an original urbanMama (in spirit if not in fact), she's been inspiring us for as long as I can remember. Dutch and Wood from Sweet Juniper are so warm, inspirational and creative -- and both eloquent and moving writers -- that I can't imagine any 'best of blog' list without them. (And yes, Dutch's popscycle is on my fave family bikes list.) Citymama used to be a Portlander (she'll always carry our city in her heart, yes Stefania?); Alphamom is generous and sweet and oh yes, stylish!; Mom 101 is so smart and connected; thanks to the fact that my job as a professional blogger started in parenting blogs, I've had the pleasure of meeting, chatting with or working with many of the other top 50 (but no, I can't say that I know Dooce, famous mommy blogger numero uno).
But hey: it's the in-iest of in crowds and the whirlpool of popularity, I feel, misses a lot of the true gems, the sorts of parenting writers who work their craft for no other reason than because they must, who forge beautiful writing in a "build it and they'll come" mindset to which I, too, have come to subscribe. No matter how many come, the castles of words and images keep slowly forming, each at their own pace. In my opinion, Sweet Juniper is the only true, sparkling treasure on Babble's roster; the other mamas I consider gorgeous, pearls of great price were receiving, at best, a few dozen "likes" from the open-for-nominations list Babble began after its editorially-selected rankings were published. Perhaps the soul-startling bloggers aren't great places for Mattel and H&R Block to advertise, but they're quiet and sweet and real.
If I were making a "best of all possible mama blogs in the best of all possible internets" list, it would include these:
It's hard enough for just one person to control the clutter of the shoe, but add to that a kid or two and a partner, then there could be heaps of shoes, sandals, flip-flops, and slippers strewn everywhere. Time after time, we *think* we've found the perfect solution to tame the shoes, but it always ends up in one big indiscernable heap, even after good, consistent purging and maintaining the stock to just the bare minimum number of shoes. As a no-shoe household, we always end up with this heap in our entryway, and people constantly trip over the heap o' shoes. We'd like to know: do you have the same issue? How have you managed to control the clutter of the shoes? Help us in our quest to organize in this new year!
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