tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6887878202701787052024-03-05T03:18:51.504-08:00turnitupmomMay you be happy. May you be free.
May you turn up the music. May you dance with your child.turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-55757876495400189642009-06-22T03:48:00.000-07:002009-06-22T05:30:12.557-07:00Farewell BloggerTurnitupmom is moving! Blogger . . .thank you for gently introducing me to the blogosphere, and now, for setting me free! <div><br /></div><div>For a sneak peek, please visit me at <a href="http://www.turnitupmom.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">http://www.turnitupmom.com</span></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>Thank you to all of of my readers who have jumped on board to crank up the music and dance! The best is yet to come . . .</div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. Congrats to "Groovy Baby Blog," winner of the Breast Cancer Awareness bracelet :)</div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-49458442281139770912009-06-17T16:36:00.000-07:002009-06-18T05:15:22.141-07:00A Gal Pal: Every Woman Needs OneI'm staring down at my toenails right now, speckled in remnants of "Oh So Glam" from the last wedding I attended. Seriously, these nasty nails need some TLC. Come to think of it, I could use a little TLC too. <div><br /></div><div>What's a girl gonna do? Regis, I'd like to phone a friend. A gal pal. That friend who you call when you need a break and a little something to jazz up your day- a new pair of shoes, a foot massage, a cup 'o java. At the beginning of flip-flop season, I always call my friend Ange: "It's pedi time!" </div><div><br /></div><div>It's the best of both worlds: girl bonding <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">and</span> pampering. And the pampering begins with a "big" decision: Which color will define you for the next few months? The search for the perfect shade is no small task, as it's never confined to mere color; the actual <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">name</span> is key. Here's me over-complicating <a href="http://www.opi.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">OPI</span></a> nail polish colors: </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Makes Men Blush. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Yeah, not feeling "hot" today. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Room Service.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Forget room service. How about a vacation? A vacation would be nice.</span> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">It's a Doozi, Says Suzi.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Sounds like this afternoon's diaper.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">No Room for the Blues. </span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Like that name, but it's blue. Can't look at that all summer. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Twenty Candles on my Cake. </span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Dream on, honey. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Kiss on the Chic.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Okay, that's sweet. Hold that one. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Senorita Rose-alita.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Oh, reminds me of that Phil Vassar song I love, about high school sweethearts. Possibility. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Your Villa or Mine? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Villa. I like that word. Villa means vacation. I'm noticing a trend here. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>And so it goes, until I'm forced to choose or Ange shares her polish (yet another reason why I love her). Then, for an hour, I shirk my mommy responsibilities, sink into a sumptuous leather massage chair, and undergo the transformation to "Senorita Rose-alita." Meanwhile, my gal pal and I dish the latest news- in our lives and in <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">People</span> magazine. Every woman needs one of those friends who she can call for a little escape- whether that's chatting over a cup of coffee, or under a nail dryer. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-50000309159986886072009-06-15T17:02:00.000-07:002009-06-15T18:06:18.404-07:00Strawberry PickingLast Saturday, we hopped in the big bad Subaru and headed out to the "country" for some strawberry pickin'. It started out like this: Daddy lead the way to an untouched patch of ripe, juicy strawberries. Two little feet followed close behind. <div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjba0To8YPDW6Jp2YDJ9ijkdg2JlDPwj0CeCvG5G8BEy0Hl3vBHmHsTA7lv0xf_VTbIFQ9tT7KMbB66Lx6bifyH0fCV2p0HkLZHAflKvSZjRyisHNmRB4T48ELFZ7EicuNcUMC5HEd9bU/s1600-h/IMG_2320.JPG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjba0To8YPDW6Jp2YDJ9ijkdg2JlDPwj0CeCvG5G8BEy0Hl3vBHmHsTA7lv0xf_VTbIFQ9tT7KMbB66Lx6bifyH0fCV2p0HkLZHAflKvSZjRyisHNmRB4T48ELFZ7EicuNcUMC5HEd9bU/s320/IMG_2320.JPG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347713474742640050" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Then, we parked ourselves in a section of one aisle (notice the overalls are blue and white). We squatted down and inspected the berries, plucking the bright juicy fruits from their vines and plopping them into our basket. Well, sort of. </div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQXglONLl3UWU1SY20NeQwpa_NYDUs2Cl62ZUkExMbU6PICRQI9PrLfsxuEK2nCNvMSfsFkjLdmSofH8X16l4dMlWBQyquCFp3GrC0nFzBasAC2jQK4pz5lGa9rNTWbZ586bjEaGdlZs/s1600-h/IMG_2326.JPG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQXglONLl3UWU1SY20NeQwpa_NYDUs2Cl62ZUkExMbU6PICRQI9PrLfsxuEK2nCNvMSfsFkjLdmSofH8X16l4dMlWBQyquCFp3GrC0nFzBasAC2jQK4pz5lGa9rNTWbZ586bjEaGdlZs/s320/IMG_2326.JPG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347717149076965634" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Note to self: Ripe strawberries are unwrapped candies to a toddler. Delayed gratification has no place in a field of fresh fruit. <div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxClq-VhpE7cO-Mf6w7RNXev8GmKQnYE3oR1_UhsnGSXAE6paKo2_iW6kNI_j7bJ7kDzMSDWz06PILMF1ENhpu6gpZiFpPExTpxSpByu0Ox9szdAjqbSZMYsYvSf1HQh4diWg8dx9LRx4/s1600-h/IMG_2333.JPG.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxClq-VhpE7cO-Mf6w7RNXev8GmKQnYE3oR1_UhsnGSXAE6paKo2_iW6kNI_j7bJ7kDzMSDWz06PILMF1ENhpu6gpZiFpPExTpxSpByu0Ox9szdAjqbSZMYsYvSf1HQh4diWg8dx9LRx4/s320/IMG_2333.JPG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347719410058907890" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>The brim of her hat says, "Life is Good." I mean, really, does it get any better than this? <div><br /></div><div>Click <a href="http://www.pickyourown.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">HERE</span></a> for a pick-your-own farm near you! Some even follow organic farming methods.</div><div><br /></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-58803525188265386542009-06-12T10:13:00.000-07:002009-06-13T18:23:11.407-07:00Celebrating an Anniversary: Quality TimeJust the other day, I opened the fridge to find an anniversary card curiously propped up against the milk. The front of the envelope read, "My Girl." After eight years, my heart still flutters when I read that, especially now that I have to compete with an irresistibly cute toddler. <div><br /></div><div>When it comes to celebrating anniversaries, my husband and I don't buy each other extravagant gifts. Instead, we do two things: spend quality time together over a delicious meal (that someone else has prepared) and support Hallmark. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last Tuesday night we celebrated at an Italian restaurant. We nestled into a corner table and gorged ourselves with antipasto, spinach salad with bacon and mushrooms (and you know how I feel about bacon), homemade pasta with ricotta and bechamel, and chicken parmigiana smothered in cheese. Italians know how to do it right! And they always send me home with leftovers. </div><div><br /></div><div>The conversation during our date was light and fun, even superficial at times. But all the while, I felt a deep sense of connectedness. It's easy after eight years to say, "Oh, we don't need to go on a date. We know that we love each other. Been there, done that." But for me, it matters that we spend this quality time together, even if there are moments where we sit in silence, stuffing our faces. </div><div><br /></div><div>A few years ago, someone offered me this simple advice on marriage: "Nurture your love like you would a baby." It stuck with me. Babies need nourishment and attention to survive and thrive. So do our marriages. I'm no expert on relationships, but it makes sense to me that we need to "feed" our marriages and take care of them, especially when we feel pulled in so many different directions. </div><div><br /></div><div>After eight years, Tim and I laugh about each other's quirks and finish each other's sentences. We still fail miserably when it comes to managing household tasks, but at least that means we're lucky enough to have a roof over our heads. Our marriage isn't perfect, but it's ours. And I wouldn't want it any other way. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-48586354982052243862009-06-11T03:31:00.000-07:002009-06-11T10:44:06.287-07:00The Smell of FunEvery now and then my husband will say, "That smell reminds me of Grandma's house up in the country." It's amazing that sometimes even mothballs elicit a nostalgia. But studies show that smell is strongly linked to memory, and thus to our emotional responses to life experiences. <div><br /></div><div>Have you ever thought about the smell of FUN? Revisit your childhood for a moment. What smells, fragrant or foul, instantly take you back? Ah, those were the days: </div><div><ul><li>a charcoal grill with a splash of lighter fluid</li><li>fresh-cut grass</li><li>the ashes from fireworks</li><li>a mixture of seaweed and saltwater</li><li>Big League Chew bubble gum</li><li>plastic inflatable inner tubes</li><li>the middle school locker room</li><li>cheap, movie theater popcorn</li><li>a new can of tennis balls</li><li>a homemade ice cream shop</li></ul><div>Wouldn't it be great if we could just bottle up <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">some </span>of these and take a whiff when we get bogged down in the trenches of parenthood? Or better yet, why not head off to the park, the movie theater, or the beach? And oh, don't forget to stop for ice cream on the way! </div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-31303578792414612862009-06-08T17:18:00.000-07:002009-06-09T08:34:54.090-07:00Avocados: The Forgotten Fruit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0e2vxHoxbn7lepEg0SGch30DIBxy-fDYJOGabmRBxAa-Uh149C1pd2QNxWh3nJ4b4vlvxaIAOlnuO0bzDeNiOg1DG8jSat1aHkQ5MCobpa3YlT3nF_UGPEoDJF5Q57uMELeeaiJnfa8/s1600-h/avocado.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 207px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0e2vxHoxbn7lepEg0SGch30DIBxy-fDYJOGabmRBxAa-Uh149C1pd2QNxWh3nJ4b4vlvxaIAOlnuO0bzDeNiOg1DG8jSat1aHkQ5MCobpa3YlT3nF_UGPEoDJF5Q57uMELeeaiJnfa8/s320/avocado.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345123736683230098" border="0" /></a><br />Looking for something different to feed your growing baby or picky toddler? Try avocados, the forgotten fruit (at least by Gerber). Here's what's great about avocados: They are loaded with unsaturated good fats, vitamins, and minerals for growing bodies and strong bones. Here are a few ways I've incorporated them into my daughter's diet: <div><ul><li>Create an avocado and pear puree (to add a little sweetness)</li><li>Blend avocado and plain whole milk yogurt </li><li>Mash avocado with chicken (creamy consistency helps the chicken go down easily)</li><li>Spread homemade guacamole (made from avocados) on your child's favorite cracker for a nutritious on-the-go snack. </li></ul><div>Avocados are the "cool kids" when it comes to fresh produce. There is actually a site devoted to them: <a href="http://theamazingavocado.com/">The Amazing Avocado</a>. (After all, this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">is</span> the internet.) You can visit for some <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">meal planning ideas</span> for the whole family: main dishes, side dishes, salads, and more! </div><div><br /></div><div>Photo courtesy of <a href="http://www.rawfoodnation.org/">Raw Food Nation</a>. </div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-31297485871979766392009-06-08T03:23:00.000-07:002009-06-08T17:55:10.934-07:00In Memory of Gladys: Breast Cancer Awareness Jewelry GIVEAWAY<div><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On May 22, my family lost a dear friend, Gladys, to cancer. Gladys was diagnosed with breast cancer as a young mom and fought for nearly 20 years; yet, she never let cancer dictate her life. She was an</span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">amazing</span></span> </span></span></b></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">woman</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></b></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">with an unwavering faith and a heart of gold, a model of strength and hope for all who were lucky enough to know her. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Amy, creator and designer of </span></span><a href="http://www.Our2peasinapod.com/"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our 2 Peas in a Pod</span></span></span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, has graciously offered to join me in honoring Gladys and all the women affected by breast cancer, with this beautiful <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Ladies Breast Cancer Awareness bracelet giveaway</span>. This piece is handcrafted with Genuine Swarovski crystals, fiber optic beads, and sterling components. It makes a wonderful gift!</span></span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoQ-qIHYYXC784j_U2vlDkdzD9Jh5Yi483MZER_n-FHMU9aeymCtmOsbzyhKybpHU0Gj5DHfGST3dmh_TdsvTVF4osc-HZMJoP9P_-vBtRVrxXJFejtpjh_mCmp6TcQbcvXUo5hfUYoE/s1600-h/breast-cancer-awareness-ladies-bracelet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitoQ-qIHYYXC784j_U2vlDkdzD9Jh5Yi483MZER_n-FHMU9aeymCtmOsbzyhKybpHU0Gj5DHfGST3dmh_TdsvTVF4osc-HZMJoP9P_-vBtRVrxXJFejtpjh_mCmp6TcQbcvXUo5hfUYoE/s320/breast-cancer-awareness-ladies-bracelet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344916859500619394" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><a href="http://www.Our2peasinapod.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our 2 Peas in a Pod</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> is a mom-owned boutique, specializing in custom-designed jewelry for infants, children, and adults. Each and every jewelry piece has been handcrafted using only the finest quality crystals, pearls, beads, and wiring components. Items can be personalized or custom-made to celebrate a </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/Store/WsDefault.asp?Cat=SpecialOccasionJewelry"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Special Occasion</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> or to accessorize with a favorite </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/Store/WsDefault.asp?Cat=ThePrincessCollection"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Disney Princess</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Amy has even designed jewelry </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/Store/WsDefault.asp?Cat=MadetoMatchJewelry"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Made to Match</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> kids' clothing lines, like Gymboree (my personal favorite!) Here, the color palette matches Gymboree's Palm Springs collection:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ2pZcWyB84RMZBs5-76uRjThC0XnGxMM7EXi9XPAUQoGdylbyeuo2-SjmBV_Y4d7_WVsVjOAGs-FjIj02uwlw4kf16v2Ew5YE5NHPKxU0wEtt8Qzd64hyphenhyphenTnh3EW4Eb3H1RIppIwJ2lw/s1600-h/m2m-gymboree-palm-springs-bracelet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZ2pZcWyB84RMZBs5-76uRjThC0XnGxMM7EXi9XPAUQoGdylbyeuo2-SjmBV_Y4d7_WVsVjOAGs-FjIj02uwlw4kf16v2Ew5YE5NHPKxU0wEtt8Qzd64hyphenhyphenTnh3EW4Eb3H1RIppIwJ2lw/s320/m2m-gymboree-palm-springs-bracelet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344918207046138946" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">You can also find jewelry to celebrate your favorite </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/Store/WsDefault.asp?Cat=HolidayJewelry"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Holidays</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, like this sweet necklace and bracelet set for Valentine's Day:<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpqNUddj2aajBuqybQnueuxaT00dkuS0yqonYMV8yuvKxgjBAbtGmG08wLwpFGwi15zdTNQcvqNE9cnyjn8Y2c1Z806xRkuBGSf-1OUH54Qec3iwJ4zAg-lYZVCfjAZKeFnlwfDBayto/s1600-h/candy-heart-valentines-bracelet-necklace-girls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpqNUddj2aajBuqybQnueuxaT00dkuS0yqonYMV8yuvKxgjBAbtGmG08wLwpFGwi15zdTNQcvqNE9cnyjn8Y2c1Z806xRkuBGSf-1OUH54Qec3iwJ4zAg-lYZVCfjAZKeFnlwfDBayto/s320/candy-heart-valentines-bracelet-necklace-girls.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345009840202784306" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our 2 Peas in a Pod offers FREE first class shipping to </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/Store/WsAncillary.asp?ID=4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">mailing list</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> customers. So head on over and introduce yourself! <br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And now for the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">GIVEAWAY</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">: Please visit </span><a href="http://www.our2peasinapod.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our 2 Peas in a Pod</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Then, come back and comment about which piece of jewelry (other than the ones pictured above) is your favorite. Be sure to include an email address where you may be reached. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">This is an extra special giveaway for me, and I sincerely appreciate the loyalty of my </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">subscribers and followers</span></span></i></span><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If this includes you, please indicate so in a separate entry (after you have completed the mandatory first entry) to increase your chances of winning.</span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On Sunday, June 21, one lucky winner will be randomly selected by Random.org. You must be a U.S. resident (18+) to enter. Good luck!</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style=" ;font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-61508607717286196192009-06-05T16:50:00.000-07:002009-06-05T17:18:04.397-07:00Enter SandmanHere is how it all started- the story behind "turnitupmom."<br /><br /><div><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPneHn4r46v5RHVM8XOpcWhf5qQmfe_9ElakNu0d-7vC9Lw70oNdAFeD13km7U0rszhwWzLZX2aMV63zyWEyJrt0WUW2lZOv30DwtPpq9drF09-iwdOZfTrswKO2L3J_BB2kNfNtOo3w/s200/IMG_1794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343999834234801634" /></div><div>It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, or so I thought. My three-month-old daughter, Liza, and I were still in our pajamas, bouncing to Steve Miller Band’s Jungle Love. Somehow the lyrics “drivin’ me mad, makin’ me crazy” seemed all too appropriate. Liza had been awake for seven hours straight, and I was running out of silly Mary Poppins-like antics to keep her content. She’d resisted the traditional methods of settling down, and I needed to come up with something, and fast. Clearly, she needed a nap. Clearly, I needed one too.<br /><br />While I’m not a voracious reader of parenting manuals and how-to guides (Let’s face it, there is no manual.), I did expect that my daughter would respond well to the recipe for a happy baby: swaddle, sway, and shush. I envisioned her nestling into the crook of my arm and drifting off to sleep, lulled by classical melodies. Quite to the contrary, she squirmed free of my futile attempts to cuddle close with a warm, cozy blanket. I spent days grasping for straws until I realized that she required something a bit more edgy than “The Muffin Man.” That’s when I turned to my husband’s eclectic music collection.<br /><br />That afternoon, we ripped up the dance floor (Okay, the linoleum kitchen tiles.), bouncing and grooving to the music. And the louder, the better. Liza closed her tiny fingers around my shirtsleeve, and we clung to each other. We whirled past kitchen counters strewn with bottles and dirty dishes, and we twirled in circles, dizzying ourselves. We weren’t waltzing to a Brahms lullaby, and yet I felt a deep sense of comfort separate from the rest of the world. It was an unmistakable bond with my daughter, as I gave myself permission to dance with a childlike abandon and wonder. <div><br /></div><div>Despite my utter exhaustion, an untapped stream of energy rose from deep within and gave way to flirtation with a light, carefree me. I wasn’t going to need a Richard Simmons video to get this body back in shape. I was sweatin’ to everything from Michael Jackson to Metallica. Before long, that room was filled with laughter, singing, and a curiously content baby. But God, did I need a shower.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn’t wrap my head around it; my husband and I were quiet babies, content to sit and gaze and bat our hands at colorful rattles. I half-expected our daughter to be the same. It was in this moment that I made a conscious effort to shift my thinking. Instead of wishing her to be otherwise, I began to embrace all that she was- a curious, wide-eyed, active baby who made me laugh- instead of all that she wasn’t. And we danced. What emerged from this moment was the opportunity for me to <span style="font-style:italic;">know</span> my child and to rediscover myself.<br /><br />Did she fall asleep? Of course she did. After a few minutes, Liza nestled her head into the space under my chin and tucked her knees up into my chest. Her eyelids grew heavy and her body, limp. Although the couch was enticing, my heart told me to savor this moment. I pressed my lips against her forehead and continued to rock. Here I was, mommy-gone-mad, with a sense of calm falling around me. I, too, closed my eyes and let go, knowing that in a matter of months, her little tushy wouldn’t fit in the palm of my hand. My nap could wait. I didn’t ever want to wish that we had danced more.<br /></div><div><div><br />I often ask myself, why does my daughter love to dance? Maybe it’s the rocking motion that simulates the womb or the liveliness of the music, but I have to believe that it’s more than that. Perhaps Liza is giving me exactly what I need- the chance to stop, to breathe, and to be fully present. Somewhere along the line, between juggling work and the inability to say “no,” I had suppressed my most basic need to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">be</span> and to honor all that I am. </div><div><br /></div><div>Liza had her own agenda from the moment of conception. What I didn’t know was that it would come in the form of a gift, one that transcended my expectations.<br /><br /></div><div>The serendipity of it all is that one week later, I slipped on a pair of brand new jazz shoes and headed off to dance, this time with a group of women who love to sweat. Every week I do this for myself- for my body, my spirit, and a guilt-free break. Who do I have to thank for this? My little Liza who, literally, doesn’t miss a beat. Thanks to her, I’ve been reacquainted with the happy-go-lucky girl who could pirouette, slide into a split, and steal the show. (Although, I must admit that after delivering a baby, the thought of a split makes me cringe and contract my pelvic muscles.) Because of dance, we have a few more funky songs on our playlist and a few new moves for our kitchen repertoire. Because of dance, I have reconnected with a freer side of myself that I’d lost in the trenches of life. Liza gave me the push I needed to step out onto the dance floor again and to linger in moments of sheer fun.<br /><br /></div><div>I have since plunged into this new role, at times wacky and wild, and while it differs from the challenges of classroom instruction, it demands a similar creativity and freshness. Every day Liza cracks me up, and some days I wonder where she came from. Although, in truth, I’ve come to believe that while our children are of us, they are not us. </div><div><br /></div><div>My husband and I joke that someday our daughter will be the last child to conk out at her first slumber party. But for now, I have come to appreciate the fact that I can “sway” my daughter to sleep, even if it means cranking up a little classic Metallica. And maybe- just maybe- the Sandman will pay us a visit.<br /></div></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-36368441258190808692009-06-03T16:38:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:50:00.114-07:00Chill Out: A New Parenting Trend<div>Have you heard of the latest parenting style that involves reclining on the couch, martini-in-hand, while your child occupies herself with legos? Me neither. But Tom Hodgkinson's new book, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Idle-Parent-Less-Means-Raising/dp/024114373X"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The Idle Parent: Why Less Means More When Raising Kids</span></a></span>, describes a new parenting phenomena that may be the best kept secret to raising well-adjusted, independent children. Less helicoptering and micromanaging, more martinis (just look at his cover). </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCFthvj6LtGNRPLXS7gAjpdOxStBVJ5f88zEbsEQZXwRjRC1I3Kn1TfJwBisWSwqtbvwFo0gm0o3rT42g8dKNa6GlK68r_ZKKY7R6iuRjTgKD1iIxzV-MU0km0ttiLWl6X8fakC76Tqw/s1600-h/Idle+Parent.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCFthvj6LtGNRPLXS7gAjpdOxStBVJ5f88zEbsEQZXwRjRC1I3Kn1TfJwBisWSwqtbvwFo0gm0o3rT42g8dKNa6GlK68r_ZKKY7R6iuRjTgKD1iIxzV-MU0km0ttiLWl6X8fakC76Tqw/s320/Idle+Parent.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343547162188725042" /></a><br /></div>In a recent New York Times magazine article "Let the Kid Be," Lisa Belkin suggests that this new wave of parenting is on the rise. It makes sense. In my opinion, today's parenting styles are a response to the over-parenting of our predecessors, those moms and dads who were determined to ruin our lives, dragging us to orchestra rehearsal because "it looked good" for college. <div><br /></div><div>Today, however, Belkin claims that parents are saying NO to strict schedules, flash cards, tutors, and violin lessons. In truth, while I wouldn't call it a laissez-faire approach, it's a relaxed style that involves less in-your-face, over-scheduling and more enjoying life and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">be</span>ing. <div><br /></div><div>I'd like the think that Belkin's right, that perhaps we've been enlightened. But truthfully, as a mom enmeshed in the wilds of suburbia, I've yet to see this theory in action. Instead, I see kids miss out on dirty knees, because they have too much homework in first grade. As a teacher, I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to get up in someone's grill and shout: "Just <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">chill out</span> and leave your kid alone." </div><div><div><br /></div><div>Bottom line: Chill out, Mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>For me, this boils down to trusting more and fearing less. Trusting that our kids won't be paralyzed by Lyme's Disease if they play in the woods. Trusting that they won't be a failure if they get a C or choose not to go to . . .(oh my God) college. Trusting that they will find their way and grow to be decent human beings- probably the same decent human beings who will respond to our under-parenting with a tightening of the reigns, and a few martinis. <br /></div></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-25519682801791448732009-06-01T16:44:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:32:38.685-07:00Less Is MoreThere is something cathartic about getting rid of stuff. It's freeing. In fact, I actually get a bit jealous when I drive past a heap of trash piled at the end of someone's driveway, because potentially, that someone's basement or bedroom is less cluttered. And if <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">she's</span> like me (let's be honest, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">he</span> doesn't care), so is her mind. <div><br /></div><div>Recently, I've felt guilty (just a little) about my eagerness to purge. You know, I love singing Jack Johnson's "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle" song, and I'll admit, throwing things away isn't exactly living up to my end of the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">reuse</span> bargain. Somebody, somewhere wants my trash, bless her soul. </div><div><br /></div><div>Feeling the need to bid farewell to Precious Moments and the chotchkies of my youth, we teamed up with our neighbors last weekend to have a giant garage sale. I don't need 15 Yankee Candles (the infamous teacher gift) or 5 silicone spatulas. I'm not keeping them "just in case. . ." That's hogwash. </div><div><br /></div><div>Over the years, I have developed a "Less is More" philosophy. I don't need things to live a full, rich life. I need a clean, open space for my thoughts of gratitude and abundance. </div><div><br /></div><div>I felt liberated watching people genuinely happy to walk off with my trash. I'd much rather it sit on someone else's bookshelf than in a landfill. Here's the best part: Our very last customer was a woman who has an orphanage in Haiti. She filled her car with my remaining five boxes of stuff, for free of course. Honestly, I would have <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">paid </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">her</span> to take my junk. </div><div><br /></div><div>Before she left, the woman scribbled down her phone number. So the next time I feel the need to grab a garbage bag and toss, I'm going to pick up the phone instead. And bless her soul, she'll cart it all away.</div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-89838745148457796412009-05-31T17:47:00.000-07:002009-06-08T17:55:40.118-07:00KC Los Angeles GIVEAWAY: Tees with a Latin FlairI recently stumbled upon <a href="http://www.kclosangeles.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">KC Los Angeles</span></a>, a stylish t-shirt company that inspires women to embrace their femininity, their roots, and their dreams. Owner Karen Crawford created the line to celebrate her heritage in NYC's Spanish Harlem. <div><br /></div><div>These inspirational, graphic tees and tanks are 100% super-soft cotton, with a Latin flair. I am thrilled to be giving away 2 of them! Check these out: </div><div><br /></div><div>The Paz tee (size M) was inspired by the graffiti on the unforgiving streets of Harlem. We all have a responsibility to advocate for peace- in our communities, our nation, and our world. There are no excuses. I like the idea of having "paz" emblazoned across my heart; it's my little reminder to sow seeds of peace wherever I go. </div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_ipg5ZbHXGXHdOLXPc5UMDnyR6Cygof1bCyhx6gdZlSgDaAgC67vJoWPdr5qC2gBgLY623lraHex5bVLI1nKueOfX_EJOWxnGV2v2qQDLdM27qieV96oYZLla547aaiASzbAEuPBYug/s1600-h/paz.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_ipg5ZbHXGXHdOLXPc5UMDnyR6Cygof1bCyhx6gdZlSgDaAgC67vJoWPdr5qC2gBgLY623lraHex5bVLI1nKueOfX_EJOWxnGV2v2qQDLdM27qieV96oYZLla547aaiASzbAEuPBYug/s320/paz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342160859387499362" /></a><br /><div>The Unity tee (size L) displays the message: "Fuerza en la Unidad" (Strength in Unity). According to KC, the essence of unity is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">WE</span>: "Not me. We." When I wear tees like these, I feel like I am announcing to the world: "Hey, this is what I'm all about. This is what I stand for." </div><div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlI8CxbM1-qbXXt7t3d4a3ARZVt4JBiU0MVb0dupzbw3CXw3GE5DNA2EjWGDC-xv8xBiBmiEyi6_mUTp1NkfQJG819h6B7UQ1x0S5CTu4mDSQst6s5Gs2c5SdmI-VClxfwPbnA_chXso/s1600-h/Unity.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlI8CxbM1-qbXXt7t3d4a3ARZVt4JBiU0MVb0dupzbw3CXw3GE5DNA2EjWGDC-xv8xBiBmiEyi6_mUTp1NkfQJG819h6B7UQ1x0S5CTu4mDSQst6s5Gs2c5SdmI-VClxfwPbnA_chXso/s320/Unity.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342306514466254722" /></a><br /><div>As a woman and a mom, I am proud to wear clothing that inspires our children to embrace peace, hope love, faith, beauty, and unity. These tees and tanks are fun, flattering (run a bit small- order up!) and have messages with a mission. Plus, 10% of all purchases go to a non-profit, family service organization, <a href="http://www.paralosninos.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Para Los Ninos.</span></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>To enter this GIVEAWAY, please visit <a href="http://www.kclosangeles.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">KC Los Angeles</span></a>. Come back and comment about which tee or tank (other than the ones pictured above) is your favorite. Be sure to include an email address where you may be reached. On Friday, June 12, two lucky winners will be randomly selected by Random.org. You must be a U.S. resident (18+) to enter. Good luck!</div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-58725819825269147282009-05-28T18:47:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:33:35.145-07:00"Me Time" for Mom<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have never met a mom who didn't feel the need for "me time." While I am so grateful for the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">privilege</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to be a mom, I recognize the need to regularly recharge my batteries. I asked six wonderful women to share a snapshot of how they sneak in a little time for themselves. I think you'll find their thoughts to be funny, authentic, and down-right true! </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I steal free time. Rather than wait for my husband to offer it, I just grab the car keys and announce to whoever might be in the room, "I'm going to a movie!" I then show up at the theater and watch whatever happens to be starting next. In other words, my "me time" is spent with my brain unplugged. Whether it's watching "Deadliest Catch" marathons on Discovery while my husband takes the boys to Best Buy to play Guitar Hero or it's my wandering aimlessly around a movie theater until the nachos run out, I approach my time alone with absolutely no goals other than to zone out and recharge. And maybe gain five pounds while I'm at it.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-Megan, </span><a href="http://www.velveteenmind.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Velveteen Mind</span></span></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I have learned that no one will give me my "me time" - I have to find it, own it, and protect it. I carve out at least 15 minutes every morning to write or read while drinking a cup of ginger tea or decaf coffee. It is a nice quiet way to start my day before my kids wake up. I also have a weekly mom's night out. My husband picks up my boys from preschool and I have the entire night off. On a monthly basis, I schedule a girl's night out with one or more of my friends. And on an annual basis, I leave my family and go on vacation all by myself. All of these activities honor my needs, passions, and authentic self. "Me time" keeps me balanced and it gives me the mental bandwidth to live my life (on most days) with intention. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-Stacey, </span><a href="http://createabalance.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Create a Balance</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">After I put my girls to bed, I immediately change into my yoga clothes and recharge by doing an hour and a half of Ashtanga yoga. Oh wait. That's not it. I mean, I change into my Juicy sweatpants, sit on the couch, drink a glass of wine and watch "Gossip Girl" or "Rescue Me." Yup, that's how I recharge.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-Kelcey, </span><a href="http://www.mamabirddiaries.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The Mama Bird Diaries</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I danced all throughout my childhood, but as I became older, I gave it up.</span></span></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">About seven years ago I saw belly dance classes popping up all over Denver and I took a few with different teachers, but I always had a hard time with the schedule. When my son started preschool this past September, I asked the Universe for a teacher because I wanted to dance again. She appeared, and since then I have been dancing 3-4 days a week. I have re-discovered my sensuality, and it certainly doesn't hurt that I am getting in shape. But most importantly belly dance is a woman's dance, and it allows me to reconnect to my true self and to the Goddess. The beauty of this dance is that it is welcoming to women of all shapes, sizes and ages. In fact, dare I say as you get older, you get better.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-Dina, </span><a href="http://www.walkingwithinthespiral.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Walking Within the Spiral </span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">One of the ways I find some me time is to lock myself in the bathroom and take a hot bath. My husband will also take my girls out occasionally on a "daddy date," and it's nice to just have some down time to myself to exercise, shop, whatever! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-</span><a href="http://www.blondemomblog.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Blonde Mom Blog</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And from the expectant mom:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">With only 13 or so weeks left until my first child arrives, my "me time" lately has been spent doing a lot of baby preparations. When I actually have free "me time," my favorite thing to do is to go to a great bookstore on a Saturday morning and peruse the shelves looking for a new read. Once I've chosen a new book (or magazine, depending on my mood), I enjoy heading over to my local coffee shop to have an omelette and read. It always feels like such an indulgence. Taking a couple of quiet hours just for me helps me to recharge. My husband is very "kid friendly," so I'm hoping that after the baby arrives I'll still be able to indulge in my Saturday morning "me time" every once in awhile.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-</span><a href="http://www.chitchatmom.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">ChitChatMom</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-21015408502988869022009-05-27T01:32:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:34:06.645-07:00Waiting: Do You Think I Have All Day?<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I used to hate waiting. Waiting rooms.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Waiting on line.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Waiting for the freight train to pass.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It’s my impatient, Jersey, I-have-somewhere-to-be mentality.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yesterday, I had an appointment at a doctor’s office that is notorious for making me wait.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I mean, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">really</span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> wait.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Long, torturous h</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ours.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It makes my blood boil. The audacity! This appointment had the power to ruin my entire afternoon.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But yesterday was different.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I entered the waiting room childless (c</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">hildless</span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> may be the operative word here), with my reading materials, ready to wait.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bring it.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I’ve got all day.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Well, as long as I’m outta here by 3:30.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I relaxed into one of the cushiony, leather chairs and perused the latest </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Real Simple</span></i></span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> magazine, which usually accumulates dust on my nightstand for months before I have the opportunity to open it.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> By then, I'm reading </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">about summer skin care in January. What good is that? </span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'll have you know that yesterday, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I actually read </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">entire</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> articles without transforming into a human jungle gym, without a little person crawling on me or tugging at my pants. </span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was liberating just to sit and wait, to read something that made me laugh out loud (embarrassing at times) or wonder </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Is this blogging material?</span></i></span><span style=""><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I never once glanced at the clock, annoyed.</span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Heck, if waiting is the closest I can get to time alone, I’ll take it.</span><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <!--EndFragment-->turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-475888428605672432009-05-25T17:46:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:50:45.461-07:00Getting Our Kids to Eat Healthy: Alternatives to Negotiating<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I've always been interested in the language that parents use with small children when discussing food and nutrition. We've all heard the old threat: "If you don't eat your veggies, no dessert." By saying this, we're setting our kids up to view eating vegetables as undesirable, just a means to get to the good stuff. I'll be the first to say, I love dessert. In moderation.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">So how can I talk to my toddler about food and avoid the negotiating and bribery game that drains so many parents and ends in a power struggle? </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I recently consulted Dr. William Sears's book, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Healthiest-Kid-in-the-Neighborhood/William-Sears/e/9780316060127/?itm=1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The Healthiest Kid in the Neighborhood</span></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Dr. Sears uses a simple and kid-friendly language when discussing food. He talks of "green light" (best) foods versus "red light" (worst) foods, and uses this terminology to steer kids towards making healthy choices. Dr. Sears also refers to nutritious foods as "grow foods." His article, </span><a href="http://www.askdrsears.com/html/4/t040200.asp"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The ABC's of Teaching Nutrition to Your Kids</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, is an excellent resource for parents; it offers practical tips for raising a health-conscious child with an adventurous palette (without crowning you Meanest Mother in the World). </span></span></p><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5lWDPO_L6pQJArzlBOVnEEaF6j4-xs1Zmn4plHMxT9Impd7-pkXvlVV0gSHkz9aRUjXfLnyv4IVOW1PpqdDmcLttjtrUvDwA0MYHRc8Ni-Zd8cjvUcsEkdax2R_x65PSf2YiuWBbSCk/s200/mail.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339944178224547282" /><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Stacie Elliott, founder of </span><a href="http://newmommyhelp.net/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">New Mommy Help</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, regularly blogs about supporting and encouraging new moms. She is the mother of 4 beautiful children, twin boys- 6, girl-3, boy-1. I am so grateful for Stacie's expertise in this area (I consider the mom of 4 good eaters an expert!)</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I believe proper nutrition begins at birth--preferably breastfeeding. This requires a mom to think about what she is eating right from the start. By the way, this is a fine example of the beginning of motherhood, isn't it? We have to make sacrifices and wise decisions regarding our children that we might never have made otherwise.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As moms, we all know that it doesn't matter what is on our plate; our children want it. Obviously, we can say what we want about food, but in the end </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">our actions speak louder</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Modeling healthy eating is a vital form of communication. For example, when our children started on solid foods, I chose to make homemade baby food. As often as possible, I would simply use the food we were having for dinner. If we had baked sweet potatoes, I made a puree for the baby. Of course, this only works when choosing nutritionally sound meals.</span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We regularly talk about the ingredients and nutritional value in different foods. </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Like, meat has protein for strong muscles. Fruits and Veggies have various vitamins, etc.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Our kids respond well to that and seem to make good choices when given the chance.</span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> However, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">our 6-year-olds are already dealing with peer pressure in this area. They see what other kids eat and drink and want to know why they can't have soda (for example). Since we have already talked about how foods provide various types of nutrition, they can understand our decision better.</span></i></span></span></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In response to the question, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"Have I eaten enough to have dessert?" </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">we have designated dessert days. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are dessert days</span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">. Everyone knows dessert is only on weekends. We view it as something special, and it's not expected any other day. We do, however, make exceptions on special occasions (i.e. birthdays). We tell our kids that desserts have lots of sugar and very little healthy ingredients, if any. That's why we do not have dessert every day. We want to take care of our bodies and limit foods that are empty.</span></span></span></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Thank you, Stacie, for sharing your wise words of wisdom with us! Please visit Stacie's </span></span><a href="http://newmommyhelp.net/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">blog</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> for more information and insight.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-83712135616901746742009-05-24T03:07:00.000-07:002009-05-24T08:42:17.185-07:00Chocolate Cake . . .for Breakfast?Yesterday, we were invited to a BBQ, so I decided to make homemade brownies from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The Bride and Groom's First Cookbook</span>. (Eight years later, and I'm just getting around to using it.) The recipe sounded heavenly. Chocolate, LOTS of chocolate. Walnuts. Sugar. More chocolate. <div><br /></div><div>But Martha is not my middle name. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I tried to remove them from the pan, they started to crumble. Not gooey enough? Who knows. I was so annoyed. I should have stuck with Betty Crocker. But Noooo . . .I needed to be all fancy. </div><div><br /></div><div>About an hour later, while slumped in the car with my brownie debacle, I started cracking up. Until I was virtually incoherent. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Do you remember that Cosby Show episode (gasp) where Cliff (gasp) makes the kids chocolate cake (gasp) for breakfast?"<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>"No. I don't remember that one."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You know, the one where the dad gives the kids chocolate cake and tries to justify it by saying that it has eggs, milk, and wheat."</div><div><br /></div><div>You can't force someone to remember something they haven't experienced. So here's Cosby's stand-up routine that gave rise to the hysterical Season 3 episode: </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: center;"><embed src="http://widgets.vodpod.com/w/video_embed/Groupvideo.2586240" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="never" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" wmode="transparent" flashvars="m=1540390449&type=video&a=0" width="425" height="350"></embed></p><div><br /></div>I love that he says "we had a ball until SHE came." Notice how we moms are always the bad guy, the SHE, the one having the "conniption." Remember all of the hairy conniptions your mom had in the 80's? <div><br /></div><div>This memory came at the perfect time. I needed something to lighten up my pity party. I came to the conclusion that if my brownies didn't go over well, we could eat them for breakfast. My husband and me. Don't tell my daughter; I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">am</span> one of those SHE moms. I don't want to meddle with this honorable title.<br /><br /><span style="display: block;font-size:10;" ><br /></span><br /></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-4957315599573408932009-05-22T03:09:00.000-07:002009-06-08T17:56:11.885-07:00Bambini Bliss Giveaway!I am thrilled to tell you about <a href="http://www.bambinibliss.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Bambini Bliss</span></a>, an online boutique specializing in everything from stylish designer diaper bags to gifts for the new parents, big brother, or sister. <div><br /></div><div>If you're looking for a shower gift, the <a href="http://bambinibliss.com/baby-bonkie/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Baby Bonkie Swaddler</span></a> is currently on sale for a limited time. It has a simple, innovative design with velcro closures for babies up to 5 months. They're hip and swanky . . .great for the new mom! <div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmrq3dfKy0HhkN_TNat_IRaeJeVDh5x4Xvd196Q1_ddaZsuwY8datFxisIRKvumRJXLUC28ZdZxLSiYE5CY2MqDxNQqrhyKWVZAHO0oH0CziANqLquLr_mgvmwmZ0Fc0ArN1QFCtpeYE/s1600-h/mail-2.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRmrq3dfKy0HhkN_TNat_IRaeJeVDh5x4Xvd196Q1_ddaZsuwY8datFxisIRKvumRJXLUC28ZdZxLSiYE5CY2MqDxNQqrhyKWVZAHO0oH0CziANqLquLr_mgvmwmZ0Fc0ArN1QFCtpeYE/s320/mail-2.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338601600055650514" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>If you need the perfect outfit for photographs, the <a href="http://www.bambinibliss.com/Jamie-Rae-Hats"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Pipette and Hat sets by Jamie Rae</span></a> have an easy on-off design for those precious moments in the spotlight! </div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL6pt_c-SK7FYDGiT8Wvj7D6mZdrhJJeRYV7dcy2DIbwV2EVFJdcu0z8r_slLfr-yrnAiC6ZVH4IeUo6UbZ3dCTruQgN_zNIFd3USxRjJHP6I4UH9IGdxsMm4_dAUHPDnqlGF1BLTd7g/s1600-h/mail-3.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL6pt_c-SK7FYDGiT8Wvj7D6mZdrhJJeRYV7dcy2DIbwV2EVFJdcu0z8r_slLfr-yrnAiC6ZVH4IeUo6UbZ3dCTruQgN_zNIFd3USxRjJHP6I4UH9IGdxsMm4_dAUHPDnqlGF1BLTd7g/s320/mail-3.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338602064168341378" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Bambini Bliss has it all, now offering a baby gift registry! They have generously offered my readers the chance to win a <a href="http://www.bambinibliss.com/made-by-angie/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Wipes Case in Sage Toile ($30 value)</span>.</a> I have one of these fabric-covered cases, and it does add a little "Pretty" to the diaper-changing drudgery. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-cHnGQaEUtP6MnABsjIsdPjiAjuCxPJClryPsBzjR1h1KyUaSWIpqt6VP1ajj9UmnolQjqJcdVXdv8yAy8pUdWJtXNPJXLWhj0W3eoAcjUHb3dlx7XvBREHPzNHdkF7Fl_8cRHd1G8k/s320/mail-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338602709448749986" /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For the opportunity to win, please visit <a href="http://www.bambinibliss.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Bambini Bliss</span></a>. Then, come back and comment. Tell me one of your favorite items (other than the ones pictured here). It will be hard to pick! This giveaway is open until 6/5. One lucky winner will be randomly chosen by Random.org. You must be a U.S. resident to enter. Have a Blissful day!</div></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-67578973293467323912009-05-21T10:24:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:35:32.042-07:00Women's Empowerment Series: Blogging Forum<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFdsQBhu7MBlTs3KgkzRbCgKPsQ-hWJSMMAbLVlWTt9cv0BhkKP7JLgMrT1rzZkzBT6EvIDwv5jt9GGWqgLiNh3zpkVo_RkXybU8nE8gAwcBdpw7edvV3FCTdXTG-LTT7DlN21VkbsZw/s1600-h/WE+Series-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFdsQBhu7MBlTs3KgkzRbCgKPsQ-hWJSMMAbLVlWTt9cv0BhkKP7JLgMrT1rzZkzBT6EvIDwv5jt9GGWqgLiNh3zpkVo_RkXybU8nE8gAwcBdpw7edvV3FCTdXTG-LTT7DlN21VkbsZw/s400/WE+Series-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338383555004839634" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yesterday, I was honored to be a guest speaker at the Women's Empowerment (WE) Series in Ridgewood, NJ. This powerful program sets out to nurture the creative, contemplative nature of women through on-going conversation. It's for women "who yearn for a slice of urban intellect in the wilds of suburbia." And yes, it is wild. </span><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I was joined by two highly successful, accomplished bloggers. Deborah Smith is the owner and editor of </span><a href="http://www.jerseybites.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">JerseyBites.com</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, a blog dedicated to recipes and restaurants in the Garden State. Deborah is "on a quest for food with </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">attitude</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">," the mark of a true Jersey girl! She is also the creator of "Blogging Out Hunger," a campaign which raised money and awareness on behalf of the Community Foodbank of New Jersey this past December. Deborah is a long-time online business owner of NannyClassifieds.com, servicing families who are searching for full time in-home childcare.<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Jen Singer, creator of </span><a href="http://www.mommasaid.net/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">MommaSaid.net</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, has been successfully blogging since 2003, and has since appeared in numerous magazines and newspapers, including The New York Times, Parents, and Real Simple. Jen has also appeared on dozens of television and radio programs, such as ABC's World News Now and CBS The Early Show. Jen's new book, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Stop Second Guessing Yourself-- The Toddler Years</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, just hit bookshelves in April, and is the first in a series of MommaSaid parenting advice books. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Are you looking for my list of accolades? Stop looking. You won't find them here. I was the voice of the new blogger on the block. As some of you know from my post </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://turnitupmom.blogspot.com/2009/05/if-you-build-it-they-will-come.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If You Build It, They Will Come</span></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, I have always wanted to be a "real" writer. Yesterday, I met so many women like me, itching to come out of their writer's notebooks, but fearful of taking the plunge. I hear you! The blogosphere is another world with its own language and set of rules, and when you make the leap, you have to know who YOU are. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Each morning, I wake up knowing that I have the power to write something that will resonate with other moms. So here I am, happily suburban, with my Mac and my thoughts. My blog is a lot like me, a work in progress. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(64, 64, 64);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"><br /><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-16818130721555504792009-05-20T10:20:00.000-07:002009-06-08T17:56:50.001-07:00I've Got Rhythm Stix, I've Got Music<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtsGJGzej57vUHgodKUXIFLwvFtXqMrDvephJgZR3fiIV3jDi93mfag7LhxmL6Wd2KaOv_MMAPs0inZReyUBnoClUze37kDZubCmOGWRgW7FFgdJifa5sJg2MvsYxSQ6zdVPT_fYG7q0/s1600-h/IMG_2114.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtsGJGzej57vUHgodKUXIFLwvFtXqMrDvephJgZR3fiIV3jDi93mfag7LhxmL6Wd2KaOv_MMAPs0inZReyUBnoClUze37kDZubCmOGWRgW7FFgdJifa5sJg2MvsYxSQ6zdVPT_fYG7q0/s200/IMG_2114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337975016546351986" border="0" /></a>My daughter LOVES music. I mean, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">really</span> loves it. During her infancy, we spent hours bouncing and twirling across the kitchen floor, dancing to everything and anything. Except classical. Take that, Baby Einstein!<div><br /></div><div>Now, whenever Liza hears music, the world stops. A smile stretches across her face as she bops her head and bends up and down at the knees. It's her own little jig, and it's seriously adorable (and future blackmail material). <div><br /></div><div>Sometimes she adds shakers or tambourine to the combo, but more often it's <a href="http://www.lprhythmix.com/">Rhythm Stix</a>. Two red sticks. That's it. Oh wait, they have ridges. Fancy, huh? But I've gotta be honest; they were the best $8 I spent on gifts last Christmas. Who needs all of that plastic Fisher Price c-r-a-p anyway? </div><div><br /></div><div>Liza's learned to "Shake your sticks up HIGH, and down LOW" (imagine my voice rising and falling here). We've used them to keep the beat, follow directions, develop coordination, and identify body parts; it's much more fun to point to your nose with a big red stick. </div><div><br /></div><div>We moms need to keep things fresh and exciting, in part to keep ourselves sane. <a href="http://www.lprhythmix.com/activities/menu.html">LP RythMix</a> has some cool instruments and music activities for little ones at various stages. There are even Mommy & Me activities. </div><div><br /></div><div>When, as a mom, I'm grasping for straws, I turn to sticks instead: "I've got rhythm stix, I've got music . . .who could ask for anything more?" </div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-18645519628344197112009-05-18T18:18:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:38:16.892-07:00Family Rituals: Saturday Morning Pancakes (and Bacon)I love the smell of bacon. In part, because it's so darn tasty (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="">though I'm not sure how I feel about</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> <a href="http://store.baconsalt.com/JampDs-Bacon-Flavored-Lip-Balm_p_40.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Bacon Lip Balm</span></span></a></span>). But also, because it takes me back to the Saturday mornings of my childhood. Pancake breakfasts, with a pound of bacon. (In his <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Odes to Common Things</span>, Pablo Neruda really should have written an "Ode to Bacon.")<div><br /></div><div>Man, I'm hungry. </div><div><br /></div><div>I recently read a thought-provoking article entitled, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://simplemom.net/the-importance-of-family-rituals/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">The Importance of Family Rituals</span></a></span>. I have a strong desire to establish some family rituals, to create a time and space in our family that says, "Family comes first," before all else. Years ago, my parents did this; I just didn't realize the value of it at the time. </div><div><br /></div><div>Pancake breakfasts gathered us together around a shared meal. We joked, teased, shared the comics, and filled our bellies until all we could do was roll ourselves in front of the TV to watch the Saturday morning cartoon marathon. This ritual was nourishment for our bodies and souls, and it all happened in our pajamas. Does it get any better than that? </div><div><br /></div><div>What I've learned: It isn't about the ritual, per se (although you can't go wrong with one that is bacon-centered). It's about standing firm as a family and of nurturing the bonds with those you love the most. </div><div><br /></div><div>Please comment below with your favorite family rituals. I might have to steal a few!</div><div><br /></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-81199025285202921292009-05-18T10:00:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:51:33.114-07:00Play<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I recently heard a mom remark, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with my kids this summer.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">They don’t know how to just play.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sound familiar?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I’m making a sweeping generalization here: Today’s suburban kids live by set schedules and organized, adult-regulated activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We moms shuttle them off to piano lessons, tutoring, baseball practice, art class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We think we’re doing what’s best for our kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We want them to have opportunities, so we start building our kids’ “resumes” in elementary school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yes, I would agree that kids learn discipline, the value of teamwork, and socially appropriate behavior from playing soccer or saxophone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But there’s a seriousness and rigidity to all of this structure, and we’re missing something big. . .</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">PLAY. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"> </span> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="">In his outstanding book, <i><a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Play/Stuart-Brown-Stuart/e/9781583333334/?itm=6"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagintion, and Invigorates the Soul</span></a></i></span><span style="">, Stuart Brown, M.D., discusses play as a <i>state of mind</i></span><span style="">.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He defines it as “an absorbing, apparently purposeless activity that provides enjoyment and a suspension of self-consciousness and sense of time.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="">Notice how Brown says that play is “apparently purposeless.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In his eyes, it is perhaps <i>the</i></span><span style=""> most important aspect of brain growth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Brown believes that “play lies at the core of creativity and innovation.”</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But we think that kids who fit the mold, who play “the game” with an exceptional GPA and impressive resume (that includes a service trip to Africa, of course), will be rewarded in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">How many unhappy college graduates do you know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In recent years, Brown has presented a seminar on play to Stanford sophomores, who he believes are “suffering from low-grade play deprivation, and are so used to their hectic, pressured, high-performance lives (despite still being kids) that they don’t realize what they have missed in the pursuit of academic excellence and success.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="">I was that</span><span style=""> kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Growing up, I was so tightly wound that</span><span style=""> I lost sight of play.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>For me, good grades got old, and there was a huge price to pay for <i>not </i></span><span style="">cutting loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At the end of the day, who cares about academic accolades and big fat promotions if there is no play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So, how can we encourage our children to play?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Brown suggests exposing our children to various opportunities at a young age and taking note of their early desires and inclinations, “the natural choices that your child’s early play demonstrates.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then, encourage those early patterns that result from natural desires to build, sing, create, dance, etc.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="">So, the next time your child plays with <i>the box</i></span><span style=""> instead of the $100 award-winning toy inside of it, swallow your pride</span><span style=""> and give yourself permission to smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She is building a world for herself and mastering the most important subject, Life 101.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-23278268531932441382009-05-15T02:42:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:45:06.327-07:00What's the Hurry?<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">In college, I had a roommate from Wyoming. I loved her to pieces, but when it came to walking, she was Slow with a capital S. I was a "city" girl, destination-bound, with a quickness in my step. I walked with purpose, to get there fast. She, on the other hand, bounced her way down the sidewalk, in part I think, to irritate me. It worked.</p><p class="MsoNormal">My daughter is just at the age where she loves stepping out for a walk down our quiet little street. Together, we shuffle across the uneven pavement and explore nature's toy box. Yesterday we watched the birds darting from tree to tree. We listened to water gurgling through the sewer. We pointed to big, fluffy clouds and cars passing by. We picked a few flowers (Don't tell the neighbors.) and fingered the veins on leaves. We stomped across a patch of rocks and giggled as they crunched under our toes. </p><p class="MsoNormal">It was a grand buffet for the senses. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Maybe the tortoise is onto something. For years, I'd thought that slow was synonymous with purposeless. These days, I'd argue that the opposite is true. Because when you hurry about, you miss stuff. Stuff that stirs your blood and awakens your soul. You know, if we walked at the pace of a child, we’d see so much more of the world.<span style=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Okay, Miss Wyoming, you were right. Want to go for a walk? You lead. </span><span style=""> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-83393169610987968182009-05-14T01:00:00.000-07:002009-05-14T01:04:22.202-07:00Best Buddies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMTsuvbqnkIdn3p4gkMM-usl2lTNHRPVP7N95N_EPIiBvopam6XGzmlViQWGMUxWBS5-qVOlpkpD2nFF9kRUQK6yjnYZNZiavE9TKxzdFHVmAp-OY9RLUfoXmmjccTpmkPFCMzZdcilM/s1600-h/IMG_2080.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMTsuvbqnkIdn3p4gkMM-usl2lTNHRPVP7N95N_EPIiBvopam6XGzmlViQWGMUxWBS5-qVOlpkpD2nFF9kRUQK6yjnYZNZiavE9TKxzdFHVmAp-OY9RLUfoXmmjccTpmkPFCMzZdcilM/s400/IMG_2080.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335586849430872674" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"A dog naps so much because it loves so hard." </div><div style="text-align: center;">-anonymous</div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-30099917254997885642009-05-13T02:42:00.000-07:002009-06-05T03:42:26.565-07:00Make Your Bed.<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm not a domestic goddess. There are usually piles of laundry on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink. But one thing is certain: The bed is always made. Well, almost always.<br /><br /></span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A few months before my daughter was born, I sat down with my husband for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the</span></i></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> talk.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sorry to disappoint, but it had nothing to do with money, sex, or in-laws.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">“We need to start making the bed,” I insisted.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If I was going to demand that my child make her bed one day, then I needed to do it too.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So we tested the widely held belief that it takes 21 days to make a habit.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Now (Drumroll, please), almost two years later, I’m still climbing into a nice, neat bed every night.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And every morning I take one minute to pull the sheets taut and straighten the comforter.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">One minute. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That’s all it takes.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">You’re probably wondering: Why the big stink over the bed? Because it’s never just about making the bed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Even Michelle Obama, who has a 95-person residence staff, demands that her two daughters make their beds.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In an interview with Oprah, the First Lady spoke of her daughters’ chores: “It can’t be foreign to them to be part of a working household.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I couldn’t agree more.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I spent a couple of years teaching first and second grade.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">During conference time, parents inevitably asked what they could do at home to help their children succeed.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Without fail, I always answered, “Read.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Read.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Read.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">If I had to do it all over again, I’d add, “And have little Suzie make her bed.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-40888246386995522112009-05-11T03:54:00.000-07:002009-06-08T17:57:26.902-07:00The Thinnest Wallets from ALL-ETT: BIG Father's Day Giveaway!Ladies, does your husband have wallet butt? Is he ruining those jeans you bought that make his butt look cute? If so, then look no further. I have the perfect Father's Day gift idea from <a href="http://www.thinnestwallet.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">ALL-ETT: The World's Thinnest Wallet.</span></a><div><br /></div><div>Your man may not be complaining, but sitting on a thick wallet is very uncomfortable! In fact, it can become downright painful and lead to chronic back pain. Many men remove their wallets when sitting for very long, or while driving. The trouble is this leads to forgetting it somewhere or having it stolen. </div><div><br /></div><div>The <a href="http://www.thinnestwallet.com/products.asp#allett"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Original ALL-ETT Billfold</span></a> can solve this problem. The Original Wallet holds up to 30 cards and has 2 pockets for cash. It will hold all of your hubby's stuff while still staying incredibly thin. This wallet makes a great gift and costs only $19.95 for nylon and $ 29.95 for leather. </div><div><br /></div><div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6Hsz59s9LyEowZaqiNIxM2QrPVxUKw6J7ZMvdNtaa2Ely-m2Y7WA22pvbTCjrW-oPFCWfxXQf3dZUAe5ZsTT3Gl6s30zwMlIGpfF7AnDvBqIBt6AUoGpza9SXswe62_i71msRznm3_c/s1600-h/Original+Nylon+Black.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6Hsz59s9LyEowZaqiNIxM2QrPVxUKw6J7ZMvdNtaa2Ely-m2Y7WA22pvbTCjrW-oPFCWfxXQf3dZUAe5ZsTT3Gl6s30zwMlIGpfF7AnDvBqIBt6AUoGpza9SXswe62_i71msRznm3_c/s320/Original+Nylon+Black.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334622349692031938" /></a><br /><br />The unique <a href="http://www.thinnestwallet.com/products.asp#allett"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">I.D. Walle</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">t</span></a> features an ID pocket on the inside of the wallet. This design allows you to show your ID easily and quickly while still keeping it securely stored inside of your wallet. The ID wallet will hold 12 credit cards and ID and has 2 pockets for your bills and receipts. Great for those who have to show their ID for work! Only $ 19.95 for nylon and $ 29.95 for leather.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjYd6bUifRBiO24IwCZltpfetEnQSZV4MHzB8TdNOOij7FDmS2h5ulWC-9hwvZ6l7iVyE4qDJNKg4ky4jQJ2UpJYP4idSIIB45NsiTNJZ_C2Nu6W4QlTT2J1nSJ713i2VexjXqWV04yg/s1600-h/Inside+ID+Leather+Black.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjYd6bUifRBiO24IwCZltpfetEnQSZV4MHzB8TdNOOij7FDmS2h5ulWC-9hwvZ6l7iVyE4qDJNKg4ky4jQJ2UpJYP4idSIIB45NsiTNJZ_C2Nu6W4QlTT2J1nSJ713i2VexjXqWV04yg/s320/Inside+ID+Leather+Black.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334621728039410946" /></a><br /><br />Is your husband a sailor? The <a href="http://www.thinnestwallet.com/products.asp#allett"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Boater's Wallet</span></a> is waterproof and floats on top of the water for up to two days; it is truly amazing! The bright color helps make it easy to see for retrieval. This is a must have for boaters, kayakers, or anybody who might drop his wallet in the water. It will hold up to 10 credit cards, cash and a couple of keys while still floating. The dimensions of this wallet (empty & closed) are 3 ½" x 5 ¼" x ¼". It can be yours for only $ 29.95.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiox3g-wdHBwJ2F0ywMR1Nrm1YKfgO3ydR-1vmQvwMpYD-CVk7aCovGggzXdMmE-MASRaEv_lfnO8n_ybv9sMY5Kfrp-snEmqzC9wpuS_4Fy5tuBMAE7HALaptZmM2HXT-LwUkfwfHhiVc/s1600-h/Boaters+wallet+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiox3g-wdHBwJ2F0ywMR1Nrm1YKfgO3ydR-1vmQvwMpYD-CVk7aCovGggzXdMmE-MASRaEv_lfnO8n_ybv9sMY5Kfrp-snEmqzC9wpuS_4Fy5tuBMAE7HALaptZmM2HXT-LwUkfwfHhiVc/s320/Boaters+wallet+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334628200833015522" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Here's the great news! I am giving away FIVE WALLETS for Father's Day: The Original, 2 I.D. Wallets (nylon & leather), the Boater's Wallet, and the Leather Executive.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the opportunity to win, please visit <a href="http://www.thinnestwallet.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">ALL-ETT</span></a> first. Then, come back and leave me a comment about which item you would most like to win (If you are a winner, I will do my best to accommodate you.). This giveaway is open until 5/29. Winners will be chosen by <a href="http://www.random.org/">Random.org.</a> You must be a U.S. resident to enter. Good luck!</div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com103tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-688787820270178705.post-47640121163098125572009-05-06T03:52:00.000-07:002009-05-06T10:19:47.951-07:00If You Build It, They Will ComeI think we all have the desire to be known, to share our truth with the world. I've always wanted to be a writer, a real one. In hard print, on a newsstand. Someone who writes for Parenting Magazine or Real Simple, or (dare I say it) Oprah. I want someone to see my name in print and say, "Damn, she's good." <div><br /></div><div>A few months ago, my fabulous sister (an amazing cook who <a href="http://www.dinnerwithlove.blogspot.com/">blogs</a> about it) challenged me to enter the blogosphere. I was hesitant. That meant putting it all out there. That meant opening up the door to criticism. I was scared of the big R- rejection. As a self-proclaimed academic and perfectionist, I've always been haunted by the "good enough" syndrome: When is it ever enough? When am <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I</span> ever good enough? After some kicking and screaming, I surrendered.</div><div><br /></div><div>Alas, here I am! <div><br /></div><div>Now that I've entered the blogosphere, I can't flip the switch. I want more. I'm impatient. I want to be found. Lately, I'm immersed in a whole new language: Technorati, RSS feeds, gadgets, Feedburner. Who knew that Kirtsy wasn't just a lovely little bow from ballet? It's all so much; I had no idea what I was getting myself into! </div><div><br /></div><div>This blogging community is chock-full of promotions, giveaways, and back-scratching, which has its place. But I just want people to stop by for a visit, and leave a comment, not because it gives them another chance to win my giveaway, but because they want to. Because here, on my blog is something that resonates, some feeling or question or belief that unites us as moms and remarkable women. </div><div><br /></div><div>As one of my favorite poems states: "The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. Only a person who risks is free." On the other side of fear is trust. So I've taken the plunge with the belief that . . .</div><div><br /></div><div>If you build it, they will come. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>turnitupmomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01252370009661225180noreply@blogger.com6