Other Treasures Discovered

If you follow me on Twitter or are fan on the Mommy on the Spot page on Facebook, then you know I have been bitching up a storm about getting ready for my Treasure Sale (which sounds way better than garage sale). (garage sale sounds like I have junk, whereas a Treasure Sale sounds like I am parting with my Beloved Possessions because they no longer fit our lives). During the process of the Treasure Sale, a few Intangible Treasures have been discovered.

1. I think that I am more overwhelmed than I realize. Or maybe sifting through almost ten years of stuff is just too much while taking care of little ones. But I felt that I almost had a mental breakdown during this time. I don’t know, but I just feel drained. Is this normal part of purging? I don’t know. Or is that just a normal part of taking care of a 1 year old and a 4 year old?

2. I think that I am lonelier than I care to admit. It’s like I am never alone, but often feel lonely. I am taken back by this because I feel that I am kind of hitting a stride in my mothering skills and have created a nice circle of friends. So why am I like this? I think it has to do with the face that the person I share my life with just doesn’t get what it’s like to be a mom, let alone a stay-at-home one. It’s not that Harrington doesn’t value my prowess in SAHM-y skills; it’s just that he doesn’t get what it takes to take care of a house and kids. I don’t know why this should bother me. My friend Ali at Sunrise Rants talked about living in a village. I totally get this.


3. The Male Ego is tough to crack. I will not bore you with all the tedious details of the arguments surrounding the prepping of the Treasure Sale. Let’s just say that when I want something done around here and it’s put off or done as quickly as possible with little concern to quality, I take it personally. This is my “office,” and when it comes to certain things, please just respect the way that I do it. Don’t let your ego get in the way. I feel like there is little talk of the Female Ego. . . probably because it went out the window when giving birth. The whole mothering, nurturing thing leaves little room for an ego. The birthing process, nursing, being pooped on, vomited on, calming irrational fears, learning the special patience that is required to put up with little ones – all that destroys the ego so the heart can grow and give the Babes what they need. That in turn takes a lot out of me. So if I need a little extra support, be it emotional or manual labor, to get through a tough day or an extra duty such as the Treasure Sale, I feel it should be given. Without reservation.


So, yeah, who knew I would find these gems right alongside my old papasan chair (my first piece of furniture I bought all on my own for my new apartment) and Wizard of Oz poster (from my childhood room).

Because this is going to take some time, I probably won’t get to posting for Feel Good Friday or comment much on your blogs. But I will be back next week!

Wish me luck!

Welcome Home, Mini!

Alternative title - My Mini is BA!

I have a very important announcement to make: we have a new family member! She’s beautiful, and I fell in love with her the day we brought her home. She is our brand new Chrysler Town and Country Minivan! I named her Mini for short. Now, for the record, I don’t usually fall in love with cars. If it gets me from Point A to Point B, it’s good enough for me. But things were starting to get cramped in our Trailblazer. There were books and toys and garbage everywhere! Not to mention, the space in the back was not big enough to accommodate the double stroller AND groceries. So Harrington and I talked long and hard about it. We decided to have the dealership buy his car and get the minivan. And two days later, I officially became a SAHM-y that drives a minivan.

Let me tell you, this vehicle is effin sweet (said like Napoleon Dynamite)! The doors open up and the car turns on at the push of a button. I feel like I have my own personal assistant that is always being really sweet by making sure that the car is ready for me. It’s awesome! My wrists are saved from yanking down on the trunk since I can close it at the push of a button, too. We got the upgrade on the center console so all my sunglasses and coupons can be stored neatly. Not to mention all the cup holders – water and coffee and sippies for everyone! I have secret trapped doors to store stuff like a portable high chair, umbrellas, and an ice scraper. The third row seating is now down so I can fit my double stroller and groceries, but when I want it up, like if I want to go to my aunt and uncle’s summer home with my parents, I can. Plus, Mini glows at night. It’s pretty sweet. Like I said, I am in l-o-v-e.*

Now, I understand that not everyone loves a minivan. I had one friend say that she doesn’t want to drive one because it’s the last piece of her that she is holding onto. I get that. I had someone else actually laugh that I got one. She backpedaled saying that she wasn’t laughing at me, she was just laughing because she never thought she’d drive one. I was confused by all that, but whatever. My Mini makes me feel like a BAMF. (For all you Dane Cook fans out there, you know what I am saying).

I understand why there are Haters out there. I didn’t think I’d ever want to drive one, either. I thought minivans were for the Uncool. That was before I had two kids and all the crap gear that comes along with them. But hey, that’s my life right now. My house is never totally clean all at one time. My yard is never perfect. I have young kids, that’s what happens. I have happily and blissfully given in to the minivan. So much so, I felt all light and cheery pulling out of the Target parking lot with Mini while listening to Marie’s Disney Princess CD. I will rebel in other ways, like blogging and tweeting and watching my reality TV shows and listening to my old Weezer and Beastie Boys CDs. That is when I am not rocking out to Disney Princesses. Either way, I feel bad ass with Mini. And as my good friend Ann says, “I never identified myself with my car so I never had a problem driving a minivan. I have one, and I am never going back.” True that, Ann, true that.

So now for the big reveal of Mini:

Isn’t she beautiful? (sigh)

*Chrysler has not paid me to write this. I don’t even think Chrysler knows I exist except in the form of a monthly payment.

So, Friends, anything new and lovely you want to talk about?

The Award for Best Producer of Birthday/Holiday Season Part 3

Blogger, I get it. You are trying to protect me from oversharing. I rarely share pictures, so let's try this one last time.


Here's Part 1 and Part 2 for those who may have missed it!

Part 3 of Birthday/Holiday Season

Marie's acutal birthday after her requested hamburger

Happy Meal be eaten in McDonalds.

Marie's Little Mermaid Birthday Party

The Producer, relaxing with a glass of wine to

celebrate the end of Birthday/Holiday Season.

Hope you all enjoyed my self-indlugent highligh reel and my big reveal of me!

So, Friends, enough about me and all my pics!  Tell me what you are gearing up for or winding down from?

The Award for Best Producer of a Birthday/Holiday Season Part 2

I love Blogger. Love it. I tried to help a friend use Wordpress and I failed miserably. As much as I love Blogger, it has its limits . . . like how many pictures it will accept at once. So here are the rest of the highlights from my Birthday/Holiday Season.

Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention all the food my MIL brought to my house to help with the celebrations. Thank you, you made hosting at my house so much easier!




More pictures with baby animals



Part 1 of Harrington's birthday. We always try and see a Tigers game for his special day.



More cake at My Nephew's birthday



Harrington's Birthday Part 2



Marie's actual birthday when she sees her new bike!

Another intermission provided by Blogger's photot limits. Part 3 coming soon!

And The Award for Best Producer of a Birthday/Holiday Season goes to . . . Mommy on the Spot

*Short programming note before the real post beings: Thank you, everyone, who burned me into your feeder and/or subscribe to my blog through email. I really, really REALLY appreciate it. And if you haven’t already, check it out on the right-hand side.*


*Approaches podium and graciously accepts her award

Thank you for this lovely award. For those who don’t know what Birthday/Holiday Season is, it is the time of year when there are numerous birthdays with one or more holidays during an extended period of time. For me, this season began March 27th and officially ended May 15th. During that time, I celebrated the following birthdays: Thomas, My Brother, My BIL, Harrington, My Nephew, My MIL, and Marie. There was also Easter, a family field trip to a farm to see baby animals, Tigers Opening Day, and Mother’s Day. Most of these events were observed on more than one day, and 80% were hosted at my house. If you break it down, we had at least one event every weekend. Believe me when I say that there was a lot of drama surrounding some of these events, but why focus on that when there are so many positive things that happened during this season. Birthday Season is awesome because I love, love, love family gatherings. I love watching the Babes play with their friends and cousins. I love all the bonding that went on during this season. Yes, it was hectic, but when I really look at it, I am pretty damn lucky to have a family to celebrate. So without further ado, I would like to thank those that helped make it possible for me to be the given The Award for Best Producer of a Birthday/Holiday Season. . .

Thank you for the many people I have in my life that I have the pleasure of celebrating their existence. The Babes and Harrington, this season celebrates you. You, too, My Brother, MIL, Nephew, and BIL.

Thank you, Jesus, for the Easter holiday. What’s there not to love about Easter especially since there are so many delicious chocolate treats and tasty hams to eat? My only thing about Easter is that it’s only one day, and I could use another two to make everyone happy.

Thank you, coffee bean growers in Columbia that supply Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, and thank you, Costco buyer who made the decision to carry this perfect product. You kept me running, for sure!

Thank you, California and French vineyards for the wonderful wine that you produced. Your product was an instrumental part in my down time, which is way more fun and inexpensive than that bite guard my dentist told me to get.

Thank you, inventor of the DVR. Words do not express the contentment that comes over me knowing that I can wait to watch Modern Family on my time or that my 5 episodes of Parenthood will wait for me when I can get to them. No pressure.

Thank you, again, Costco for making delicious and fabulous –looking cakes for only $15. I love you.

Thank you, Windex. While hosting many events at my house, you helped me make my house look shiny when I felt far from it. Shhhh, I even use you on wood.

Thank you, Crazy 8 and Target for helping me put together coordinating wardrobe changes for each family member for each of these scenes. Everyone looked incredible, and I didn’t go over budget.

Thank you, again, Harrington. You are awesome!! We got through it together!

Thank you, Mom, for helping me with the Babes and everything else. I couldn’t have done it without you.

Thank you, bloggie and IRL friends, for letting me vent.


Thank you, Real Housewives of New Jersey and New York. You soothed my tired mind, because for the duration of your shows, your circus was a nice break from my own.

Thank you, Wii Trainer from the Sports Active Game. Thank you, Saturday Step Aerobics Class/Core Express. Because of the both of you, I was able to go through 8 weeks of eating tacos, pizza, ham, cake, ice cream, chocolate, and more cake and LOOSE weight! How is that even possible?!

Thank you again, everyone! You are all awesome! Here are a few pictures of the different scenes of the Birthday Season Production. Please enjoy. (And here’s the big reveal of what I look like. I figure if I am going to Blogher, and you see me sitting alone, you now know who I am and can save me from feeling like the new kid at school who doesn’t know anyone, right)?




Before his big party!




Thomas and Marie at his big party!



Thomas did not like cake. . . at first.



Easter eggs



Easter morning



Opening Day



Meeting baby animals. The cow licked him, and he giggled and stuck his hand out for more!


Intermission of pics because Blogger won't let me add anymore. Look for part 2!

Quick, Random Thoughts*

This week is going to be crazy, but I am OK with that since is the Grand Finale of Birthday Season. And it’s kind of nice to end it with Marie’s 4th birthday. So I might not be as active in my comments or posts until next week. I am taking these 5 minutes of free time and write a quick post of my random and fleeting thoughts:

- I wish Thomas would develop another method of communication other than screaming, but I am proud of myself for keeping it together when he’s upset. And I am done beating myself up that I do not enjoy his screaming. I love him with all my heart, but I accept that I don’t like it when he screams. And that’s OK. On the upside, he’s mastered the sign for “more.” And he does really well in a restaurant. And I love how he loves to explore everything!


- I feel like my Random Acts of Kindness Chart is boosting morale around here. When someone does something nice, I write it on a star and put it on the chart. At the end of the week, we talk about some of the nice things we did. I feel this is more effective than giving a check if Marie is not practicing kindness. Also, since the whole family is involved, I feel like it helps everyone focus on the good in each other. It sounds so cheesy, but it works; at this point in my life I have adopted a “Whatever Works” philosophy.

- My dentist suggested I need a super expensive bite guard to stop me from clenching my jaw, which might stop my headaches. My mom suggested a glass of wine. My idea of a sabbatical is not practical. So what do you think: a bite guard or a glass of wine?


- I had fun watching the Babes both have fun at Barnes and Noble yesterday. Marie chose the location for her fun place for her birthday. May parents came, too. We then went out to lunch, and then went home for some downtime. For dinner Harrington and I took Marie and Thomas to McDonald’s. It’s a lot of work to go somewhere with the Babes, but once we get there, we have a blast.

- I am really excited for the mini-vacation I planned for us next month.

Well, that’s about all the brain power I have left for now. Some of these thoughts deserve a whole post, and I’ll get to that soon. I am really thankful for all the people in my life that I get to celebrate during birthday season, but I will be really thankful when things slow down a bit.

So, Friends, what’s going on with you?

*I did not even have time to proof this for any grammar or content mistakes. Please read with a forgiving eye!

Be Careful for What You Wish For and Other Reflections from My Sick Bed

Well, I finally got a break from my babes . . . in the form of pneumonia! I was shocked when Dr. S (whom I love and adore) told me I had pneumonia. And it was not just a touch of pneumonia. It was the kind that I couldn’t catch my breath. At 2am, I thought my nose was just stuffy until I tried breathing from my mouth and couldn’t take a deep breath. I was very scared when my inhaler wasn’t working longer than 20 minutes. What healthy, young-ish person gets pneumonia?!?! It sound so 19th century. Oh, I know! A mom of a preschooler and demanding baby who wore herself down, that’s who! All those times I would silently (and sometimes not-so-silently) pray for a break, and I finally got one. I decided to take this as a little nudge from the universe to take some time to reassess how my life was going. These were the reflections from my sick bed:

- I will never underestimate what I do again. Ever. I turned the lives of three people (five if you count the babes) because one, little person couldn’t do her job. Harrington was running the babes to my parents’ house before and after work. He was taking Marie to preschool during his lunch. My parents (when they weren’t running Marie around to preschool) turned their house into a daycare facility for Marie and Thomas. I knew I did a lot, but to see how it took three people to fill in for me on my sick days really put things into perspective. (And it really did feel like I was calling in sick. I was sitting on the couch watching movies and the clock wondering if they day was running smoothly and according to plan, much like I did when I called in sick as a teacher).

- My babes actually do miss me. I thought they viewed me as that cranky lady who killed all the fun in the house. When Marie said she wanted to be just like me, I thought she might have Stockholm syndrome since I am always nagging her to wipe her nose with a Kleenex rather than the back of her hand or put her toys away. Nathan probably thought I was a jail warden for all the time he spent in his crib not sleeping. When I saw how needy and clingy they were after a two-day absence, I was surprised. Maybe I’m not the fun police that I often feel like I am.


- Along that same theme, I thought Marie was going to love preschool. She loved it the first week, however, there was a change of heart when I couldn’t bring. She cried because she wanted me to take her. She also cried the week after when I could take her, but perhaps that was from an undisclosed ear infection. I understand that mommies are important, but sometimes it’s easy to take that for granted when I am always there.


- So during my sick days, I was able to watch Ellen in peace. DAMN! She looks awesome! I hope I get better looking with age (especially since my birthday is in a few weeks)!

So I felt with all the stress of Marie being sick and Thomas’s sleep issues, I was starting to feel upset ; upset because I was not present and enjoying them. After not being able to take care of them and seeing that what I do really matters, I’ll think twice before letting my frustration get too overwhelming. Which brings up another matter. I am really upset that I let myself get this rundown. I think if I was just grownup enough to say, “I need a break.” And by break I don’t mean a Target run for diapers. I mean a real break away so I can rest and recharge. So I am going to have to carve out a plan and put a premium on it so catching 19th century illnesses doesn’t become a regular occurrence.

Do you ask for help when you need it? How do you recharge your batteries?

Suck it, Marge!

Dear Marge:

This is Marie’s Mom, and if you don’t remember, she was a former patient of yours. She was diagnosed with macrocephaly at birth. When I was told that that was a big, fancy word for a big head, I didn’t think it was a big deal. The implications of that, along with a low tone diagnosis at 4months were when I realized that this was a big deal. That and the pediatrician recommended that she see a neurosurgeon for regular visits were a clue that something was not right. We discovered that she extra fluid around her brain (hydrocephaly) and was not sure if she would need a stint to drain it. We were not sure if she would have cerebral palsy because of her low tone. It was a very stressful time. At 9 months of age, she qualified for services. And that’s when you entered the picture as her first physical therapist.

She used to cry whenever you came over to work with her. You seemed to lack that gentleness that is helpful, if not necessary, to work with babies. It was hard for you to accomplish anything with her because she had a hard time not crying with you. You also asked me to leave the room since you attributed her crying to my presence, not your roughness and general crabby demeanor. Being a new mom, I stood in the kitchen peaking around the corner, watching my poor baby girl crying while you tried to execute your exercises. I endured that and a lot more because I was desperate for her to get better. However, what was most memorable about you is when you told me she would be destined to be a leaner because she would never have enough strength to always stand straight and that I would be lucky if she walked without braces and by the age of two.

Well, Marge, that little baby is now three years old. As she RAN into her classroom the first day of preschool, many things came to mind. Most were the normal things a mom of a “regular” kid would be thinking: I was so proud of her for being independent and brave. She looked so cute and happy. But then another thought ran across my mind, and it was, “Suck it, Marge!” I say suck it because here was this baby who you said wouldn’t walk until she was two and possibly with braces and she RAN into that room. And you know what? She RUNS everywhere, and she CLIMBES up the ladder to go down the slide. Oh, and she JUMPS, too! So, Marge, be careful what you say to new moms because it could wind up biting you in the ass. I understand you needed to be honest about Marie’s condition, but perhaps you could take some professional development classes on bedside manner because your ambivalence about her condition was heart wrenching to hear. And if I could, I would forward my therapy bill to you because you did a lot of damage with those comments and telling me to leave the room because my baby was crying because of me. She was crying because of you and your negative energy.

So, Marge, suck it! My baby girl is in preschool and doing great! No thanks to you, of course.

Yours truly,
Marie’s Mom

P.S. Tell Noelle her note about Marie’s “anti-social” behavior is coming soon!

How I barely* survived the annual golf outing.

*by barely I mean on almost no sleep, momentarily breaking down and crying all while sending my DH subtle texts to come early

Every year my DH has an annual golf outing with his college buddies in some remote area with limited cell phone reception. And without fail, every year, something happens in which results in a trip to the pharmacy and/or doctor. This time was no different except it was doubly hard since it was the first time with two kids. It all started out innocently enough with NT’s blood shot eye. I didn’t worry about it too much until it was there after his 2nd nap. Sure enough, when I looked, I saw a fingernail moon scratch. The doctor called in some medicine, and I had to see her the next day. So I had to pack up two kids for a 10 minute errand to get eye drops. This resulted in a NT’s first meltdown of the weekend which altered bedtime for the worse. Both kids like their one-on-one time at bedtime, except there was only one adult to go around.

The next day, I was super nervous about going to the doctor with both of them because I knew the test for the eye scratch would be intense, NT has a hard time eating when he’s upset and in a different place, and I promised GM we would go the water fountains at the outdoor mall. So after a full morning of packing lunches, bottles, bathing suites, and whatever else we would need for an afternoon outing, we arrived at the doctor’s office only 2 minutes late. As I predicted, he had a fit with the eye test, a fit when she looked in his ears to see if that was the reason for his fussiness, and he refused to eat. And the doctor confirmed that he had a scratch in his eye and that I had to come back in a week to make sure it was gone. Yeaa, I could hardly wait to repeat this horrific experience all over again except with all the anticipation of what to expect. All this was enough to make me sick to my stomach, so I packed the kids up and ran to the bathroom. This experience was made complete with Gwyn verbalizing what was happening so anyone within a foot of the bathroom was receiving a blow-by-blow account of my sensitive stomach. Once I got myself together, I tried to get out of there as soon as possible. Ah, but that was not in the cards either. Now we have been seeing this pediatrician since GM was born and never before had she been afraid of the undersea mural in the vestibule. If there was any day to be have a terrific meltdown, it was that day. She was hanging by the toys, and I thought she wanted to stay and play at the doctor’s office. So being impatient, I told her I’d call Nana and say not to meet us at the fountains. She scurried to the door, shrieked at the top of her lungs, and shook uncontrollably. At this point, with sweat dripping down my back, I think how am I going to get her and NT in the infant carrier out of here? I swoop up GM and put her on the sidewalk and quickly grab NT. I ask GM, whose eyes are totally dry, why she was upset and she serenely answers, “The undersea mural is scary.” Hmm. I had no idea.

So next, we met my mom at the outdoor mall for some fun. By fun I mean watching my 3 year old daughter try not to avoid any head-on collisions with the older, rougher crowd at the fountains and try not to break a limb (which would happen since DH was out of town) on the play structure. After two hours, she stopped what she was doing and yelled at the top of lungs with a look of despair in her eyes. That was my cue to leave. The man next to me said, “Wow! She sure can get her point across.” Yes, she sure can. Because I wanted some adult interaction, I had a crowd over for pizza. GM was all tuned up to be with her “people” or “Nana’s friends” as they are sometimes called (my aunt, brother, and his girlfriend). After dinner, I was exhausted, and I thought so were my babes. But not so much since NT woke up twice that night since his eating and sleeping was all off due to his traumatic time at the doctor’s office. And because NT woke up, so did GM which she usually doesn’t but I am guessing since Daddy was out of town, it was destined to be.

And here is where the real fun began. Since NT’s schedule was off, the whole day unraveled before my weary, tired, bloodshot eyes. I tried to make the weekend fun for us since DH was away. We planned on going to all of GM’s favorite spots like Barnes and Noble and the mall to go to the Disney Store and the merry-go-round. I planned on leaving right after lunch. But NT cried on and off for 2 ½ hours which enabled us from going anywhere on time. When he woke up from his nap (or passing out from crying too much) and didn’t eat, I lost it. I felt so disconnected with his needs, I felt like I was letting GM down, and I felt like I was a big damper on my parents. When I burst into tears, my Mom said in her self-proclaimed “stern voice” (which is considered “softly” yelling by most) that I had to stop crying, get myself together, and call my DH to get him home (the D at this point is not dear, more like damn). Now I am yelling at my mom to go home because I can handle this (which really was just a cry for help). GM is now yelling and getting me her favorite books to cheer me up. My mom also pointed out nicely that I was causing all this. I felt like a horrible mom. I still do. It was not my finest moment. In the end, I got it together and dragged us all over to have our fun adventure day as I told GM we would. I felt like Clark Griswold when he was determined to push through and have a merry Christmas: “We’ll have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny F-ing Kay!” And by the end of the day, we all made up because that’s how my family rolls.

The next day was like the ultimate redo, for the most part. NT slept well, GM and I had some quality time, and even had some time for a play date with the neighbor. However, that does not take away the traumatic three days before. After the babes went to bed, I told my DH as nicely as I could that I thought his timing sucked. He should not have left with NT being so unpredictable, especially without his own car. I thought he was being cheap by not wanting to eat the cost of his golf weekend when he saw how things were going with NT. I also thought he was being cheap by not wanting to pay for gas. And thankfully, DH got a sliver of a glimpse of what I went through those three days. I left for a 2 ½ hours to get away after he returned, and NT cried for half that time. How do I know? Because DH couldn’t make it without calling me and asking me what to do. Which I don’t fault him for because he did have NT’s best interest at heart.

But what would he have done if I was 5 hours away in a no cell phone reception area without my own car?

Who am I?

I am a current SAHM who is a junior high school teacher drop out. I used to teach English, Spanish, and an intro to French, Spanish, German, and Japanese. I always wanted to stay home with my babies, but being unhappy at my job made it easier to drop out. To be honest, I was burnt out from being a teacher. The school is in an upper-middle class area, and the students are filled with a sense of self-entitlement. Who could blame them? Counselors would ask me to change grades for those who were not happy. Administration would ask me to look the other way if parents lied for their child. I was told I had to teach kids responsibility . . . as long as the parents said it was ok. I was frustrated with the hypocrisy. Anyway, more on that for another post.

I now have two beautiful babes: my daughter, GM, is 3, and my son, NT, is 3 months. Although I love staying home now, I found the life style adjustment difficult which took me by surprise. GM gave me a run for my money. At birth, she was diagnosed with macrocephaly (a scary medical term for a big head) and low tone. We weren’t sure if she had hydrocephaly or cerebral palsy. We were told she wouldn’t walk until she was 2 years old. I spent most of her first year in a state of panic. We worked with a physical therapist and an occupational therapist, and she ended up taking her first steps at 15 months. Her neurosurgeon discharged her at 17 months stating that she was fine, but just has a big head. After I knew she was fine, I fell apart. I had suppressed all my emotions in order to focus on GM’s therapy. Thanks to my family and a wonderful therapist, I was able to pull through a very dark time, and all in enough time to start all over again. NT was born, and it has been a totally different experience. I think having some mommy experience has helped me feel more confident.

So having been married to my college sweetheart for almost 6 years and being a SAHM for 3 years, I struggle to modernize my traditional role; I want to be there for my family but stay in touch with myself. I choose the word struggle because it really is a struggle not to go into the downward spiral of not caring about myself and trying to stay in touch with a world outside of the Disney Channel. There have been times when I have been with my mommy friends, and even though I want to talk about our kids, I also want to talk about what is going on in other parts of our lives. Sometimes my attempts end up in blank stares or interruptions by the kids. Mommy on the Spot is the spot where I can talk about all things mommy related and beyond.

So that is enough about me. Check back soon to read some of my Mommy on the Spot observations on life and motherhood.