The Five Things I've Learned In Preschool

Over at B-Metro today:

Those professional placemat decorators, craft lords and glitter warriors will always have a place for their "art".

I. Don't. Do. Hand Turkeys.

Or glitter.

Really, I've never been skilled in the art of table decorations, bulletin board design, or bubble letters. But those people have a special role in preschool (and most of school) and they will showcase their "talents" every chance they get. You bring a roll of red streamers to tape in sections above the door. They bring white tin buckets hand-painted with pink, purple and red spots brimming with pink "easter grass" with a small field of 8-inch suckers stuck inside for the "centerpieces".

To read the whole thing, click here. 

I'M GOING TO NEW YORK CITY AND CAPS LOCK IS THE ONLY WAY I KNOW HOW TO EXPRESS MY EXCITEMENT

Soooo... (I could probably start all posts with "sooooo", but I don't. You're welcome.) I AM GOING TO BLOGHER '10 IN NEW YORK CITY IN AUGUST.

...and....

I GOT A "BLOGHERSHIP" (volunteer position) AS A "MIC WRANGLER", SO MY TICKET IS NOW TAKEN.CARE.OF.

I know, right?

Basically, under the "qualifications" section of the application to run a microphone around a room full of freaking awesome women, I put "I'm tiny and I'm fast, do I need more qualifications?". AND THE BEST PART IS THAT THE WONDERFUL WOMEN AT BLOGHER LOL'D INSTEAD OF "..."ing AND ACCEPTED THAT. Good call, BlogHer, good call.

(BTW - does anyone else type faster in CAPS? It's almost like I know you are reading it as me being excited, therefore, I type in "excited mode". I'm going to stop now and get back to how awesome going to BlogHer is for me.)

DUDES!

Here's the part where I tell you that I'm both ultra excited YET totally overwhelmed. It's an honor, really, to help represent the BlogHer community (in such a small way, I know, but still). Not to mention how much I have to do to get ready for this! I'm a conference newbie, and this is kinda the Mother Of All Conferences. Meaning I have even MORE to do, and MORE to plan, and MORE to research.

Let's start there, mk?

First off, I need business cards. On these cards, I'll put my pertinent information, and hopefully, A SPONSOR. I've read that between 150-300 cards is a safe bet (more if you attend lots of parties or are a social butterfly) (I'm not quite a butterfly, but not a catepillar either, so.... I'm going to call myself a social moth and just order about 250)

For the entire back of the card (front of the card if I hand them out upside down) (lol), will be the logo of The Most Awesome Company Or Organization To Ever Exist And I Will Stop At Nothing To Make Sure The Person That Receives Said Card Truly Understands How Awesome You Are Except That I Won't Do This In A Manner That Might Make Me Seem Annoying Because That Would Be Counterproductive.

Yup.

Contact me at (my NEW email address!) Amanda@TheMomJob.net

In the spirit of you wanting to sponsor me, I'm also offering my boobs. Well, and my back. But come on, the boobs are clearly prime real estate.

I'm talking t-shirts. Or *a* t-shirt, for me (and not a frumpy t-shirt, but a nicely (read: tastefully) fitted tee with a logo (in full color) on one side. This will be worn in front of thousands of participants. I have more info for those interested. (Again - Amanda@TheMomJob.net)

For both sponsor opportunities, I'll also offer ad space on this site. During the conference, I intend to live blog and/or live tweet (many of you know "how I roll" with live tweeting - a mix between "IT'S LIKE I'M THERE!" and "I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING") (I manage to gain followers each time I live tweet an event) (one of my FAVORITE things to do) (yay parathesis!). This way, the thousands on people following the #BlogHer hashtag on twitter will find this blog and your brand will gain lots of exposure.

You can't lose here!

Anyone else going?

Picking Battles With A Picky Eater

Over at B-Metro today:

t's Saturday and I'm making chicken noodle soup (via my crock pot - it's so simple, hearty and soul-meltingly delicious). Everyone has a full bowl of noodles, chicken, carrots and celery, well... everyone except Conner. He is eating processed cheese with his fingers. Again.

I've had a lot of guilt about Conner's 10 Items or Less menu for the longest time. For years, I cooked full dinners at least 5 days a week (and always things remotely "kid friendly" to encourage him to partake) - chicken, mashed potatoes, an array of veggies, lasagna, etc. - all in hopes that at some point, Conner would accidentally smell the cheesy potatoes or saucy lasagna and oh, I don't know, TRY IT.

To continue reading, click here!

Onesies, Rompers & Jeggings - Say Wha?

Can we talk about something? Good.

Last week, I went to Target to... oh, heck. I don't remember my "reason", but it may or may not have been an excuse to browse the entire store for two hours. Mommy needs a break sometimes, kids.

Anyways, I started in the Junior's section, seeing that I'm tiny, but also because I'm 25 and in The No Woman's Land Of In Between Sections. As to not discriminate against any style, I quickly grabbed up about 15 items (mostly dresses) in varying colors and prints. The first thing that caught my eye was this:

Only - on the rack it looked like a dress and Momma's time is precious people. I don't have time to sift for an inseam, so I immediately filed it in my brain as "dress" and moved on. 

Eventually, I made my way to the fitting room and tried on that "outfit" first - only to quickly realize that something was between my legs (stop laughing).

"Holy sh*t, this is a onesie" - that was my first thought. 

It's just... honestly, I was torn. It was cute, cheapish, mostly attractive and EXTREMELY COMFORTABLE. As in, the top was a soft cotton jersey, breathable and the skort? bottom was lightweight and... well... freeing. In other words: all my lady junk was hanging out and I felt mostly naked.

The problem: IT'S A FREAKING ROMPER AND I'M NOT 3.

So, I made a few faces at it, and eventually decided on 2 other ACTUAL dresses and not wanna-be onesies.

It's just that even since, I've seen rompers in other places, and on Victoria's Secrets models, they don't look that bad. Dare I might say, they kinda look cute especially with a gladiator sandle or for casual beachwear. 

Actually, after typing "casual beachwear", I'd say that is a perfect scenario for Onesie Attire, but I don't LIVE at the beach... and I'm so on the fence about this.

The only thing about wearing the romper (*cough* onesie *cough*) is that it leaves some.... room? in the back... which I can only imagine is for next year's summer trend - Neon Diapers.

Keep in mind that I'm a small girl and am frequently mistaken for a 12-year-old, should I not disregard this fashion so quickly?

Two years ago, I had similar feelings towards skinny jeans. I kept thinking "ok, didn't we do this already? and we all decided it sucked? THEN WHY ARE WE TRYING IT AGAIN?", only to find myself in 2010 with more skinny jeans than "regular" and boy do they make my butt look great (and are awesome for tucking into my trillion pairs of boots).

Better yet - today I got a promotional e-mail from Express for.. get this... JEGGINGS! I've been wandering when this whole "omg can we get these jeans ANY SMALLER" trend would figure out a way to merge with either A) leggings or B) body paint, and finally I am left not-so-disappointed w/ jeans + leggings = jeggings.

This is a trend I will likely (ok, I'm on the order screen) participate in. THEY ARE JUST HOT WITH HEELS, ok? Stop the judging.

**Updated to Add***

So, Donya, a friend of mine who runs the Pitter Pat House just linked me to this "romper" from French Connection:

...
Only... It's not a "romper" or even a "onesie", but this site refers to them as PLAYSUITS.

SRSLY WTF? WE ARE NOT TODDLERS IN A PARK OR PRESCHOOLERS MASTERING THE TEETER-TOTTER, BUT RATHER, ADULTS  - MORE SO, ADULTS THAT DON'T WEAR THINGS CALLED "PLAYSUITS".

/end rant

Mommy Seeking Mommy

This week on B-Metro.com:

Never having problems finding friends before, I assumed that the not-so-often discussed world of Finding Friends After Having Birthed Small People was an inviting land of play dates and casseroles. A comfortable abode in which I traded appetizer recipes and gabbed over a glass of wine on the weekends. I thought we'd all have something in common, surviving motherhood, and with a little luck and a killer quiche, I could totally nab a good friend or two to fill the position.

But the exact opposite has happened.

Read the entire entry here.