One Tough Cookie

I have four children.  Four very active, curious, energetic, beautiful children.  But I only have one Wade.  And Wade is one tough cookie.

He is cuter than most two year olds, if I do say so myself.  He is funny and already going for the laugh.  He has a mature sense of humor, more like a four year old, and loves to joke about poop.

This summer has been a lot of fun with Wade.  He's sort of, what would you say? Um, bad ass.  Can you say that about a toddler?  Well I just did.  

Wade hangs with the big kids.  He is unafraid.  He is smart.  He potty trained himself.  No lie.  And maybe most importantly, he sat through and loved The Princess Bride.

But, with all this fearless, bad ass-ness comes a few drawbacks.  Turn your back for a second and it's just all kinds of not good.  Take for example the other night at dinner.  I excused myself to use the restroom for a mere five minutes, maybe it was even less time.  While I was gone, Wade had managed to throw his entire plate of rice everywhere.  Everywhere.

Last night, in the time it took me to order a movie On-Demand, Wade ran away and decided it was bath time.

Look at him, he's like "yeah, what? I'm in the sink."

First let me say this, I know he needs a hair cut.  I am not trying to be the Celine Dion of my neighborhood and have the kid that everyone else wishes would get a hair cut.  It just hasn't been a priority in the schedule.  I am not making a statement with Wade's too-long hair.

Even throwing rice or bathing in the sink, the boy is cute.   But the boy is trouble.  

"I need to make sure my older kids are good," I explained to my pal Steph the other day.  "I need Peyton and Lucy to be good kids.  They need to go to youth group at church, go to college and get good jobs.  You know I need people that will bail Wade out of jail when he gets older."

I kid, I kid.  Sort of.  Wade is cute and challenging.  It's going to be an interesting ride being his parent.  The only thing I can tell you that I've learned so far, is that rice is much easier to clean if you wait hours after it's been thrown around the room.  Although, just like glitter, the dried rice has been showing up all over the place and I can't seem to get it all gone for good.

Here's Wade having his kind of "fun" with the big kids the other day.

Get in on the Back To School Giveaway

This is your last chance to enter to win not one, but two cute bags from Thirty-one.(The winner will be announced on Friday.) 

Read the details below:

Thirty-one products are pretty and pretty cool.  You can't go to your kids' baseball game or the pool these days without seeing at least a handful of moms with a thirty-one bag. You know why?  Because they are practical and fashionable. 
And it happens to be my first giveaway.


You could win not just one gift from Thirty One, but two.  I am giving away a thermal tote and a cinch sac in the adorable Flutter pattern.

All you have to do is, leave a comment here, like the Facebook page, or leave a comment on the Facebook page and you will be entered to win.  This is the perfect back to school prize.  And if you are interested in hosting a party (so you can get more free items, discounted items and hang with your friends)click here. 
 (Click here for more information on Thirty-One.)

Fun Police

It's happened.  I predicted it would happen and it did.  All those happy, lovey-dovey feelings about the family being back together are gone.

My two older kids are overindulged, bloated, eye-rolling messes.  I am grateful that they are getting along, but it's at the expense of the rest of us.  They walk around nodding and smirking to each other as if they are on the inside of this great joke.  And the joke is all the rest of us idiots.  They are 10 and 8, this is ridiculous.  Their grasp of sarcasm is incredibly disturbing.

My two younger kids are whiny and in desperate need of a schedule.  And they feel the sting of the older kids' arrogant dismissal of them.

I'll be damned if I have to spend the last two and a half weeks of summer break with a bunch of brats.  So either I am leaving or I am going to have to take charge.

The fun stops now.  Schedules will be making a return.  Cleaning rooms will once again become a priority.  No more ice cream for dinner.  No more skateboarding in your underwear.
















Whomp. Whomp.  I hate being the fun police and I am so not good at it.

On second thought, maybe I'll just head back to the Best Western in Kalamazoo.  I mean it was a BW Plus for goodness sake.

P.S. If I had made a video for this post it would also have doubled as a submission reel for SuperNanny, if that show were still on the air.  Nanny Jo, where did you go?

He Had Me At The F Word

I have moments while I'm folding laundry and Young and the Restless is on in the background where I feel, well, um, wait for it...completely satisfied.  In fact, I love it.  That's right, this isn't a post about how I feel inferior because of all my motherly, homely duties.  

Maybe it's because those motherly responsibilities sometimes make me a hot commodity.  A target market that needs to be wooed.  And I love to be wooed.  Even if it is by seven-foot tall puppets from the the man who made the Teletubbies a massive success.  

This week I was wooed by The Oogieloves.  

Actually, I was wooed by the creative, marketing genius behind a new movie with seven-foot tall puppets called Oogies.  
 As a mom blogger, I was invited to a round table discussion for the puppet movie.  The discussion happened to take place at one of the nicest hotels in the metro Detroit area, in the penthouse suite to be exact with fancy coffee, fruit and baked goods.  

"What I really want to know, is why Hollywood doesn't make more fucking G-rated movies," Kenn Viselman, that aforementioned marketing guru, said.  A couple of the mom bloggers blushed, a few pursed their lips and I marveled. 

Sure, the baked goods were nice, but this guy had me at the F word.

His mother was in the group and kept count of how many times he said the F word.  And I loved that too.

Here's the thing, Viselman and his people made a movie for kids. A movie that might seem a little nutty, possibly annoying, to adults.  But it's not for adults, except for the fact that the adults might just enjoy seeing their kids happy.

I like that.  I can get on board with that.

Instead of getting a big studio behind the movie, he's taking it directly to the moms.  He compared his strategy to how The Passion of the Christ was marketed using church leaders and pastors.  
"The only group more powerful than Jesus is moms," Viselman said.

I'm not necessarily power hungry, but I have to admit it felt good.  It felt good to be needed, to be wooed, to be compared to Jesus.  This guy is no dummy.

The next day, I took the little boys to the movie premiere. 

While I worried they would tear up the place, break something or get hurt, they had a blast.

It was a circus-type atmosphere, which fit my family well.

This is a job that my pal Steph and I could totally do---clowns.  We used to sit and watch the young people working at Chuck E. Cheese and know that we could sing the songs better and put more feeling into the performance.  But after seeing these clowns work the room, I think we could totally do that too.   

Those power hungry, target-market moms in attendance were a tad pushy when the Oogies made their red carpet appearance. Sadly, I wasn't able to get too close to the red carpet.

But my little boys did get up on the step and repeat.  (The only reason I know that term is is from the Real Housewives of New York.)  

So last night, after attending the big movie premiere, I went back to the never ending laundry pile.  I didn't mind.  I didn't mind because I matter in the big world of marketing, movies and all that.  I = we moms.  We have power.  We can make a difference.  We can cast a huge wand of influence.

This movie is very G-rated.  This movie is full of love and happy interactive fun.  This movie is for kids.  How many movies like that are in the theaters?

We have the power to make that happen.
Visit the Oogieloves web site (click here) and spread the word.  The more moms that think it's a good idea means the more theaters where this movie gets played.

Check back here very soon to read my actual review of the movie. (Someone described it as 'Teletubbies meets the Wizard of Oz meets Rocky Horror Picture Show.' So you know it's going to be interesting.)

For now, I'm back to folding my laundry and I feel good. I feel like anything is f@&*ing possible.  Thank you Oogieloves.  Thank you Kenn Viselman.

Here's a WSJ.com clip about the movie and the unique marketing strategy. 

Olympic Parenting

Since the beginning of the opening ceremonies my family has been very into the Olympics.


Watching the Olympics is way different than it used to be. I am watching as a mom now.  A mom of little athletes.

I relate more to those sacrificing, nervous looking, tired, mostly old parents in the stands.  I don't think any of my kids will be Olympians (however I won't limit them and you never know), but I am at the beginning of all the practices, games and all that sports mom stuff.  I've just gotten a taste of what it's all about and I have a whole new respect for not only the athlete, but the parents and the whole family.  


Raising little athletes to be good sports, whether they make it to the Olympics or not, is quite a challenge.  There are a lot of freaky parents, pushy programs/coaches and a whole bunch of too-much-too-soon pressure.  


A lot of the Olympic parents seem to have a handle on all this.  So, I am watching the games and all those amazing athletes, but I am also watching the parents and families.  And taking notes when they are interviewed. 


Check out my latest Mompulse video where I discuss my new Olympic experience.

Check out what Ryan Lochte's mom says about raising an Olympian.

And here's Jordyn Wieber's mom.





Check out more stories on YouTube in the Procter & Gamble series Raising an Olympian- click here.


Click here to subscribe to my MomPulse channel.  Check out other MomPulse videos here.

Happy Mothers Day and What I Know For Sure

It's almost Mother's Day.


Being a mother is complicated, wonderful, heart-tugging, heart-wrenching, heart-warming and heart-breaking; it is exhausting, mind blowing, mundane and miraculous.


Being a mother opens you up to more love and compassion than you ever thought possible.

Mothering is not for wimps, it is a god damn hard job.  That is why, if you're a mother, I hope that you are taking time this Sunday to pat yourself on the back, take a deep breath of gratitude or just sit quietly and give yourself a little peace.  Peace and quiet and love.


Quick, watch this video while your husband is in the room, maybe he'll see it and get the hint.  Breakfast in bed is a great idea for mom when dad helps.

Another good idea to honor mothers you know, or yourself, is to buy the e-book (also available for Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble Nook) Mother Letters: Sharing the Mess & Glory.  

Click here for more information.

What I know for sure is this, I want some time alone on Mother's Day.  What do you want?  How are you celebrating?

Here's what else I know for sure (this week):

I haven't read "50 Shades of Grey," but I might.  I have some friends that are reading it and their marriages well, um, have never been better.  If you know what I mean....

I didn't want to do it, but I actually spend some time watching Don't Be Tardy For the Wedding.  And I like it.  I like it so much I sort of want to buy a wig from Kim's wig line.  And I am rooting for Kim and Kroy.  

PhotoBooths are amazing.  I've always loved them, but I am really loving the new-ish trend of having the photobooths at events.  There was one at a charity event I went to last weekend.

Twitter is still incredibly fun.  You should follow me, even my dad is following me, click here.  C'mon join the fun on Twitter. @AngelaYBlood (And I'm trying to get to 500 followers by my birthday in June, I'm 10 follows away.)

Here's some solid advice for teenage girls from Jon Hamm. Yup, the guy from Mad Men.  It's video for Rookie Magazine's "Ask a Grown Man" series.  And it's good.



Have a great weekend.

A Decade as a Mom

Today I have been a mother for a decade.
My oldest son, Peyton, turns 10.  The first double digit birthday.

I didn't really know what I would be like as a mother.


Before I met my husband I was the ultimate tough single chick.  Likened to a Whoopi Goldberg best friend character from a nineties movie, I wouldn't conform or take anybody's b.s.  During college and a few years after I didn't have a boyfriend.  "I don't believe in relationships in college," I boldly stated.  Really? I didn't believe in them maybe because no one would get in one with me.  


But that just made me tougher and more cynical.  Between a lot of relationship rejection and my crazy mother, the walls around my heart were pretty high.  Nothing was going to hurt me.  I told people I was never going to get married and I might adopt, but not for a long, long time.  Then I met Tim.


I knew I was falling for him, but it took a paralyzing near panic attack on the top of the mountain to realize what was really going on.  You see I had never really been too afraid of things.  I was the girl in ski club kids would dare to go down the forbidden side of the mountain and I gladly just went down.  Again, truth be told, I'm not really sure if it was being fearless or just desperate for people to like me.  Either way I would do the dares almost always.  


But on a mountain top in Jackson Hole, Wyoming I felt fear.  It was there for the first time I understood what it was to be be vulnerable.  I was letting down the walls to my heart and loving Tim back.  And damn it all to hell it scared me.  I couldn't make it down the mountain without assistance.


That was the first pretty loud whisper of fear.  The whisper just kept getting louder and louder.  


Even though I was afraid of all this good loving and fearful that it would all come crashing down around me, I moved to a different state to be with Tim.  Weeks before our wedding I remember having nightmares and having feelings of anxiety.  


Not too long after we were married, I got pregnant.  In a matter of two years, I had fallen in love, moved to a new town, switched jobs (a couple of times), gotten married, bought a house, got a dog and gotten pregnant.  The whispers of fear had turned into a full blown anxiety attack and mild depression.  


I didn't know who I was.   Someone told me, "I just never pictured you like this.  I thought you would be in New York or doing something really interesting."  Well that just shook me up even more.  Were they right?


It didn't help that I gained 70 pounds with my pregnancy.  And at 5' 2", you simply can't gain 70 pounds and feel ok, even when you are pregnant.  During the later stages of my pregnancy, my dad came to visit.  He was telling me all about his heart smart diet and proudly told me what he weighed.  I gulped and drank in the knowledge that I weighed more than my 6-foot tall father.  That didn't really help with the depression.


I was worried about what kind of mother I was going to be with all of this crazy going on in my head.  It just felt like too much.  Too much life.  Too much goodness.  I was sure I would find a way to mess it up and lose it all.


Those feelings eased a bit as my physical discomfort grew.  My focus was more about what labor was actually going to be like.
I found a column I wrote the week before Peyton was born where I describe the anticipation of labor as "the biggest adventure of my life."

This picture of the column looks so old....more like 20 not 10 years.

I got it wrong.  Parenting, that is the biggest adventure.  And the minute Peyton was born, the whispers were gone.  When they put that little baby in my arms a lot of the crazy stopped.


The vulnerability was there, but it was more fierce.  Oh my god, I almost said like a mama bear, but Sarah Palin kind of ruined that reference for me.  But it was some sort of powerful, primal, protective love.


I thought back to what that friend had said to me about how my life turned out.  She was right and wrong.  Neither one of us pictured my life like this.  I didn't because I never dreamed up something this good.  This life of love, marriage and children is more than I could picture for myself.


And 10 years in, I am not afraid of it slipping away.  Each year our family gets stronger.
Of course truth be told, I am still a worrier about illness, injury and random craziness.   I never go on WebMD and had to stop watching Dr. Oz because of my neurosis.  I didn't say all the crazy went away.


 "Some days I feel confident and maternal.  Other days I feel uncertain and anxious," I got that part right in the column 10 years ago.  


Now that that little baby they put in my arms is too cool for fourth grade and is trying out deodorant and talking about wanting an iphone, I wonder what the next 10 years will be like.  One thing that I am absolutely certain about....they go fast.