Daily wanderings through raising kids, feminism, marketing to moms, celebrity culture, maternal depression, retail therapy and the myth of the mommy wars.
Last night was the first time I had ever gone to the cinema by myself. Ironically, the movie was about moms who can’t catch a quiet moment for themselves.
I was watching TV the other night when I saw a commercial with a well-dressed housewife at the controls of an enormous road roller start to drive over the top of her old washing machine.
I’m not sure why little girls are such fans of glitter, but they are. Maybe like big girls, they like pretty, shiny things. Glitter could be like training-bling, or something like that.
Sharing good things gleaned and projects tackled from my trips around the blogosphere where creativity, parenting, handmade and homemaking all cross paths.
I fully support Katherine's pacifier habit. Even though her preschool teachers, grandparents, and dentist say, at age three and a half, it's definitely time to pull the plug, part of me thinks I should let her suck away on the thing until a clique of fifth grade girls start making fun of her.
There was a very tall pine tree to provide cover, along with a second cover, this one fashioned out of a paper grocery store bag. And there was surveillance. Okay, maybe surveillance is too strong of a word. Let’s just say that I was on the look out. Constantly. For my mother.
I want to know what my Mom was thinking in these pictures. I want more details of what she was like as a young mother. I am left to wonder how she mothered us day-to-day...
