Category Archives: Good for a Laugh

Betty Crocker?

I don’t know whether to be flattered or run for the hills. Chloe was watching her daily dose of TV when a commercial for a Betty Crocker baking kit appeared. You can guess what followed: “Mom, can we get this? It’s really creative! It’s only $10. You have the money for it.” The commercial showed a homemaker-type woman expertly decorating various cakes using all sorts of plastic tips and icing.

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Fashionista in Training: Afterword

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I have nothing to say, except, 270 minutes at the mall last evening (we decided to go on Friday rather than Saturday in order to avoid the weekend crowds)! For the math whizzes among you, that’s 4.5 hours! Spent at three stores. If you’re inclined to look at the cup half-full, you’d say that Chloe, like her dearly departed grandfather (whom she never had the chance to meet), is tenacious when it comes to shopping. If you’re inclined, like me, to look at the cup half-empty, you’d say that mother and daughter (mostly mother) are both out of their minds. But I was determined to allow her to choose.

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Fashionista in Training

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My husband and I had a rare day together today. The girls were with our babysitter, and we decided to go shopping and to a movie. One of our missions was to find a holiday outfit for Chloe. Her father was particularly attentive to the task, and we spent quite a bit of time looking for the perfect celebratory attire for our big girl.

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Are They Sending Me Money?

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It’s been almost 24 hours since I announced the existence of this blog to friends and family. Before I sent the fateful email, I had a brief discussion with Chloe about what I was planning to do. You see, I delayed publicizing my initiative for a couple of weeks because I felt somewhat guilty about exposing my children’s antics to the wider world. Will they end up in therapy for life and addicted to painkillers because I’ve exploited them? These are some of the thoughts that have lingered in the back of my mind since I started this endeavor.

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Battle of the Pseudo-Crocs and Bulging Jackets

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I guess I knew it was inevitable. But I didn’t think it would be so difficult. All the hints were there, however. This summer, the only shoes Sophie would wear were her lime green, jibbitz-infested croc imitations. Every time (and I mean every), we would try to put her cute little chunky feet in equally-as-adorable sneakers or sandals (see photo), she would scream. Not a weak, “I don’t agree with you” kind of scream, but a bloodcurdling, “you are ruining my life” kind of scream.

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