My super hero-loving boys are suddenly into Care Bears. And I love it. Totally love it. Honestly, I sometimes get tired of super hero cartoons and the like. I can't preview everything before they watch it and I'm tired of hearing them run around the house play fighting each other. The easiest answer for me was to introduce them to the cartoons that I remember from my childhood on Netflix... Like Care Bears.
My expectations weren't high, but they actually liked it and asked to watch it again. It's not an every day thing, but hearing them sing some of the songs later in the afternoon is pretty sweet. Since then they've watched Robin Hood, Strawberry Shortcake, and Dragon Tales. Is it just me or are these blasts from the past a little sweeter than what kids are watching today?
Here's your opportunity to introduce your kids to your favorites... I'm giving away a THREE MONTH NETFLIX SUBSCRIPTION! Cool, right?
Here's how you can enter the Netflix giveaway... Tell me your favorite old school show! It's that easy.
If you want to be nice and follow me on twitter and Facebook and all that jazz, then cool. But, I'm just more interested in hearing new ideas for shows I can look for on Netflix!
A random winner will be chosen on May 21st.
Disclosure: I am a member of the Netflix Stream Team.
I cringed. He probably thought that I would have the baby and then just be normal again. So, I explained it took time. Then I explained that he shouldn't say those things to people because it can hurt feelings and it's complicated. But I told him that I appreciated his honesty.
Just to never repeat anything like that to anyone again.
The other day B and A had diarrhea. It was gross. Matt and I were openly talking about it, wondering what it was from... A touch of the flu? Some bad food?
A little while later I hear a little voice from the bathroom... "Mom, I had a big poop. Do I have Siberia?"
W constantly asks whether we can move back to our old house, but keep this one so he can still use the swing set. He insists that he doesn't care that it was small and there were three kids sharing limited space. It was tight. But none of that matters to a five year old.
This post was inspired by the novel Dad Is Fat by comedian Jim Gaffigan who riffs on his adventures co-parenting 5 kids in a two bedroom Manhattan apartment. I also wrote a post about a conversation that this book provoked on Chicago Parent.
Join From Left to Write on April 22 we discuss Dad Is Fat. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.
This was B the morning of my grandpa's funeral last year. His pants were too big, but the belt put him over the edge.
I had recently seen the blog Reasons My Son Is Crying and did what any responsible parent would do... pulled out the camera. B is my most dramatic child. Tears over something like a belt aren't that big of a deal. The belt stayed. The tears continued for a while.
My plan was to send in the picture to site, but I never got around to it. You know how it goes around her. I always have really good plans.
I never got around to posting it. But how could I miss this opportunity?
This post was inspired by the novel Reasons My Kid Is Crying by Greg Pembroke who captures frustrating yet hilarious parenting moments through perfectly captioned photos of unhappy kids. Join From Left to Write on April 15 we discuss Reasons My Kid Is Crying. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.
I just got back from spending five nights in Charleston, SC with my sister and four week-old nephew. I had a great time in an awesome city with some of my favorite people. It went by way too fast as days tend to do with newborns. It takes time to get out of the house, the days revolve around feedings, and then you look at the clock and it is already 4:00. The greater majority of the last five years of my life have been filled with days like these. And I have loved every second of it (well, maybe not while I was in the moment all the time), but I can honestly say now that those days are behind me.
I’ve said it before, but this week pretty much solidified it… This baby shop is closed for business. Not only does my sister have all of my baby stuff, but I’m just not interested in going back to the newborn phase. Been there, done that, bought the frumpy maternity clothes… And now I know I’m done.
Don’t get me wrong… I loved the snuggling and baby time. I loved his smell and soft skin and his sweet little face while he slept. But, I also loved that I could give him back. I’ve heard it a million times, but now I get it. And it’s the first time I’ve ever felt that way. I’m far enough from that phase that I can look back on it fondly without any sort of longing for just one more. I’m good with what I am so lucky to have. I’ll encourage my friends and family to keep popping them out so I can get a little fix from time to time, but that’s pretty much it. I’m excited for the next phase of my life.
At the same time I’m so excited as my sister starts this new phase of her life. It’s so fun to watch her and she is doing awesome with a baby who is a little more fussy than most. She’s totally keeping it all in perspective – something I was totally incapable of doing with my first newborn. And I’ll keep cheering her on… from my next phase of life with a cocktail in my hand.
This post was inspired by the novel The Opposite of Maybe by Maddie Dawson. At the age of 44, Rosie finds herself suddenly single and pregnant. She tries to hide in her grandmother’s home, but meets two men that will change her life forever. Join From Left to Write on April 8 we discuss The Opposite of Maybe. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.