So I may be cheating a bit in that this post isn’t about my kid. But you guys, I really need to vent. Story’s dog – term used loosely – is going to give me an aneurysm. The Little Shit, as she is not at all affectionately called when Story is gone, or Kahlea, as she is called when Story is home, is so vexing her cuteness cannot make up for it. Let me give you a few examples.
Parents, children, and lies are an age-old threesome. Parents might find untruthful ways to sneak candy or tell convenient white lies to get a moment of silence. Children, on the other hand, push the boundaries of lying, learning the lines between truths and lies and what it really means to lie to someone. (more…)
I love paella. I’ve had several different versions, and each was as tasty as the last. However, I’ve always been too intimidated to try making it. It’s a controversial dish, for sure, with everyone seeming to have his or her own “authentic” recipe. But more than that, I’m not the greatest cook, and there is a lot that goes into any paella recipe. For me, that reads as “there are a lot of opportunities to screw up.” I don’t know if I suddenly had a burst of self-confidence or just too much coffee, but I decided to make paella for our NHN family dinner this month. I’m happy — nay, ecstatic — to say that it was not only edible but pretty darn good. We had rice pudding for dessert — yum. And a dance party topped off the fabulous evening.
This winter when visiting my mom over winter break, my nephew invented a game. Rather, he re-invented a classic birthday party game – pin the tail on the donkey. Likely inspired by his visit to my mom’s house and her love of M&M candies, he changed the concept to put the peanut in the M&M. My mom drew a large circle on a piece of paper, and they spent some time cutting out different shaped peanuts. Then blindfolded, they would spin around and try to get the peanut in the middle of the M&M. It was a great way to spend a wintery afternoon. My girls got just as much enjoyment out of it the next day. (more…)
I consider myself a pretty hip mom. Ali tells me that this belief in itself proves that I’m not. I may have to, begrudgingly, believe her considering what I learned this past week. I was schooled, yo.
I have a seven-year-old daughter who knows how to use my smartphone better than I do. I’m quite certain she was born with a skill set specific to her generation. While I have only one game for her on my phone and she’s allowed to play it only when I am with her, I still worry about her access. See, I’m hip to the dangers. But the dangers upped their game and I fell a bit behind. Have you heard of vault apps? If not, read on. If so, you totally get the Hip Mom Award and I want to be your friend.