When I feel my blood pressure rising, my blood on a rolling boil and my head a-poundin’, I try (try!) to ask myself this question before I erupt:  Are my kids just getting to me or are they actually doing something hurtful/dangerous/rude…?  (aka my might-try-to-patent-if-I-weren’t-bureaucratically-challenged  “Mommy Barometer”) In other words, is it ME?  If so, I take my pulse.  And retreat to the other room (or, admittedly, to my smartphone to cruise Facebook) for a little break.  If it is misbehavior, I still take my pulse….on parenting.  And then attempt a calm, reasonable approach to the hurtful/dangerous/rude issue.  Am I…

“How you do anything is how you do everything.” I was wowed by this quote from Editor Kristin Van Ogtrop’s note in the January 2014 Real Simple.  I also felt: Introspective. Intimidated. And oh, let’s not forget:  Inadequate. How daunting those few words are!  My self-reflection on how well (or not) I behave, react and perform in the moment led me to the scary possibility that everything I do is crap and my kids see it.  If last night’s supper was a performance barometer, my kids will be able to pen quite the “tell-all” if they become famous. But in all…

“What would be your asking price to do all the “Mommy” work?” Come again?  It could have been an insulting inquiry, but it wasn’t, actually.   A frustrated family friend, who had had-it-up-to-there with the grind of paying bills, calling utility companies, and trouble-shooting random homeowner responsibilities while balancing his career and fatherhood, had simply had enough.  At least I worked from the home, and flexibly at that.  What WOULD I ask in yearly salary to do all the unavoidable junk that takes away from family, career and FUN? If I’d been prepared to answer his question (a job offer, possibly??), I…

Remember “Not Me” from the Family Circus cartoons?  We all know how alive and well this little ghost is in any home with kids: “Who spilled milk and didn’t clean it up?!” “Not me!” “Not me!” “Well, it wasn’t ME”! No matter the offense, this trio of responses in my house rarely changes.  (The only caveat is that they blame the dog, even though she is lactose-intolerant, doesn’t have opposable thumbs, etc.). And my rebuttal doesn’t change, either: I’m not going to be angry if you tell me the truth.  It’s dishonesty that upsets me. When no one owns up…

When my family moved to Colorado a year ago, we were frequently asked:  “Do you ski?”  Being new in town I could hardly state my feelings on the subject so instead gave the hard, cold facts:  “My kids and I are taking lessons.”  My husband learned as a teenager and has several of the premiere ski resorts in Colorado under his belt so he already fit into the fold of our ski-adoring community.  But the kids and I didn’t even know what “binders” were.  Needless to say, we had a long way to go.

In my October 23, 2013, post “Errant Body Fluids and Other (Viral) Situations” I made mention that one of my boys threw up in our refrigerator.  (Don’t worry. This is the only body fluid references in this post).  Well, a few weeks after I pressed the “publish” button on that post…a friend texts my husband that the home containing the ill-fated kitchen appliance went up for sale. Could it be, although it would be a snowball’s chance in Southwest Colorado, that the proud owners of our old home READ that post????  It would be a remarkable coincidence.  And no, I…

Over the holidays, we flew the friendly skies back to Iowa to visit family.  Packing for a family of five is a real trip (pun intended!) and in the middle of this project, my husband and I had a conversation that went something like this: Hubby:  How large a bottle of liquid can we take in our carry-on? Me:  Um, I think 3 ounces.  Why? Hubby:  Well, these mini bar liquors say 50 ml.  How many ounces is that? Me (doing some quick head-math):  Let’s see…about 1.6 ounces.  And you can have only one one-quart plastic bag for yourself.  (thoughtful…

I’m not a fan of New Year’s Resolutions, for two reasons.   In the past I have set unrealistic goals (I will never, ever say “@#%&*!” again!) or because I simply forget I made a resolution  to begin with (Mommy Brain).  This year, however, I came up with a goal, not a random idea as in years past but a pursuit born of something I have wished to accomplish for some time:  read more books.  My nightstand is perpetually piled with reading material and my reading list expands every time I peruse the book reviews in a magazine or walk…

Everyone agrees that cell phone use for chatting, texting or playlist-searching while operating a motor vehicle is a bad idea.  We don’t always take “the high road” in this respect but we all know it is dangerous to not give undivided attention to keeping our cars, vans and SUVs safely on the road.  But what about that other distraction?  I don’t mean lunch or the annoying rattle coming from the glove box (although tending to either is a bad idea as well).  I mean children.  Wow.  I am amazed I haven’t gone off the road with the distraction of my…