We went to a wedding at a church on Saturday.
In the car, on the way to the reception,
Colum yelled out, “Oh no!
I wanted to ask Dad to show me how J – j – j …
You know …
Who is she?
The one who came back to life on Easter?”
“Jesus?”
“Yes, I wanted Dad to show me how J – j – jessas died.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, her.”
“Jesus is a man.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it’s just that he’s usually depicted with long hair. He’s also known as the Son of God.”
“Oh …”
I’m glad we had that talk before he starts Catholic school next week.
As you know, I was stung by a wasp earlier this week. Or a bee. Or maybe a hornet. Look, I’m a city girl — I don’t do entomology. Sheesh. The point is that I’m still traumatized and clearly it is in my best interest to stay inside behind firmly shut doors. Unless, of course, there’s a bee inside the house. Then I’ll show you some serious suicide dashes. Until then, you should probably just listen to Nat. ~Rebecca
by Natalie Kerr
Image courtesy willardparks.com
Have you ever been that mom standing in the grocery aisle or bank line listening to frustrated grunts from inside the stroller? As mothers we need to read this cue as keep strolling mama! So, I ask all of you mommies out there, how fit is your stroller? Does it only see the light of day when you need a bag of milk or are you a trailblazer? Well, the good news is that either way stroller fitness is the surefire way of getting to Fit Avenue fast. What I as a mom love about stroller fitness is that I can stroll to all my favorite iPod tunes and groove out a great workout with scenic views. The best thing about stroller fitness is that the stroller and the darling inside act as a form of resistance to our aerobic workouts. All the equipment you need to reap the benefits of stroller fitness is a stroller, a park or scenic route, sunscreen, water, tunes and, of course, your little one. Now that you have all your gear, here is a sample of your next stroller session. Continue reading 'Stroll Your Way to Fit Avenue'»
My idea of exercise is lacing up runners to go out for bacon and eggs. Seriously. After I gained forty pounds during my first pregnancy I even put on a sweat suit in case the spirit moved me to jog over to my salty pork fat and fried egg feast. It didn’t. That doesn’t mean that I like the baby fat, though. And it sure doesn’t mean that I don’t like reading about exercise. I LOVE reading about exercise! So much so that I’m bursting with pride about the Playground Confidential’s newest contributer: a bonafide fitness expert. Look for her on Fridays sometimes. ~Rebecca
By Natalie Kerr
Courtesy maveric2003 on flickr
To the apple of your eye the playground is an oasis of fun and activity. Why not for us? Have we outgrown it? Are we too sophisticated? I think not. Our little ones might be onto something here. The playground and the parkette it’s in, has everything we need to shed those baby pounds: fresh air, free equipment and the FUN factor. All we need to do is pimp it out it in a way that optimizes its fitness potential. The next time you are out with your little one dress up your playground fitness style and get moving. Everything from the swings to the benches can be our key to fitness freedom and achievement. Continue reading 'Pimp My Playground: A Workout For New Moms'»
I just came back from a blogging conference. I know.
Don’t worry, though, because this was the Blogher conference which means it wasn’t all about geeky tech and music and political bloggers. It wasn’t even all about female writers telling their personal stories, either. I mean, sure there was some of that, but you could totally ignore it. Because, let’s face the facts: there’s nothing to be gained from hobnobbing with nerds. Continue reading 'How Not To Be A Successful Blogher Attendee'»
DAILY SNACK
I am so sick of the life as a journey metaphor.
Aren’t you?
Every blog you read, every freaking reality show,
Promises to take you along on someone else’s journey.
Really? To where?
Oh, I see …
What they really mean is,
Indulge me while I vomit up all my emotions and insecurities,
And otherwise over share the minutiae of my daily life.
You know,
Like I sometimes do here despite myself.
But at least I won’t call it a journey.
DAILY SNACK
I once read something about women – mothers — undermining their identities by using images of their kids as their Facebook profile pictures.
There was a shred of truth to that, it seemed.
Where there once was the image of a young woman,
There is now a drooling baby, grinning toddler, or worse,
A pet.
I would like to defend, however, pictures of mothers with their children.
They could be saying that this is me now as a nurturing caregiver,
This is a representative shot from my daily life.
I suppose.
Or it could simply be the sad truth,
That very rarely does anybody take a picture of the mom.
They take pictures of the kids and sometimes,
Every once in a while,
The mom happens to be in the shot.
So when it comes to switching up your profile pic, it could simply be,
That those are the shots you have to work with.
DAILY SNACK
Reason number 257 why my hat is off to anyone with an older child who is less than two years old and a newborn.
Behold my daughter as my friend and I were focused on finding the best breastfeeding position for her baby.
She got in that baby swing by herself,
And she was not happy about getting out.
DAILY SNACK
I woke up yesterday morning with laundry rage.
It had been building for a while.
I’d only done the occasional load,
And then had to go down and rummage through the dryer every morning.
Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.
This morning, though, I could not find any underwear,
Clean or dirty!
And a certain someone who shall remain nameless wet the bed for the first time in months and months.
Thus began the rage.
How the hell could my husband insist on sleeping in,
When there was so much laundry to do.
I needed these kids out of here because it was going to be me versus the piles of clothes,
And it wasn’t going to be pretty.
A couple hours into my mission,
I pulled out the lint trap to clean it,
And a toy drumstick kind of thing,
That was lying on the dryer,
Somehow rolled toward the hole where the lint trap goes,
And was exactly the right size to fall right in.
Did you know that there is no bottom to that hole?
The toy is deep, deep within the bowels of my dryer never to be retrieved.
I’m not sure what this means for the future of my dryer,
But I still had twenty-zillion loads of laundry to do.
So maybe we’ll find out.
DAILY SNACK
It’s not that I dislike cooking.
In fact, I’ve been known to have half-decent results.
It’s the wielding of sharp knives and hot stoves,
While trying to fend off shrieking toddlers and avoid slipping on the trail of hot wheels winding their way across the kitchen floor.
It’s the tears and the tantrums and the ever-more-urgent need to get dinner on the table NOW.
It’s doing all that and needing it to be wholesome and nutritious and preferably from scratch.
Because you wouldn’t dare give your child anything prepared.
Heaven forbid.
And then it’s the dishes.
The dishes and the pots and pans and spoons and cups and little tiny snack bowls and the tupperware drawer that’s been emptied all over the floor.
Again.
And THEN, today,
It’s the sugar bowl that was upended and somehow wound up spewing sugar over every surface of my pantry.
Every surface.
So thanks for the tips Food Network and assorted food blogs and magazines,
But the cooking is the easy part.
I received an email about a month ago urging me, as a busy mom, to join some sort of movement for a 25-hour day. There have been studies, claimed the email, that indicate our bodies intuitively work on a 25-hour clock. A group of woman formed the 25th Hour Coalition to try to get the extra hour a day that their intuition tells them there should be.
I must admit I laughed because, really, why stop at one hour? I could easily do with another three. And aside from our body clocks, isn’t there a little something called the rotation of the earth? Our entire calendar is based on a millennia-in-the-making calibration of the rhythms of our solar system. We’re supposed to do away with all of that and disrupt the daily pattern of life for everybody because our intuition tells us that we should? Whatever.
Then today I receive another email about the same thing and for some reason I clicked through to their website www.25thhour.ca. Except the web site is actually a Facebook page called Trust Your Intuition dedicated to promoting the SCHICK INTUITION 25th Hour Coalition!
There was no mention of Schick in the original email and I suddenly feel like I need a shower. The idea of brands drumming up phoney causes (as ridiculous as this one is) to attract attention and create a buzz makes me sick. Can a company actually support a charity and brag about in it’s promotional material. Sure. Can a company sponsor an event in return for naming rights? I don’t necessarily have a problem with that. Should a company make up a cause out of whole cloth as a marketing strategy. That’s just wrong.
Agree? Disagree? Is it possible I’m mis-reading this whole thing?
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