Kids' Show Brings "The Beatles" Down?

The Rise of the Mom Blogger Mogul

Guest blogger Role Mommy weighs in on a Wall Street Journal profile of Mom blogger Dooce, who's making a mint from her family's foibles.

The Wall Street Journal just profiled the person I'd like to dub the Queen of the Mom Bloggers. Dooce, whose ongoing sarcastic travails about her life--which include bouts with alcoholism and post-partum depression--have created a revenue stream that has enabled her to turn her blog into big bucks.

 In the piece, Dooce, otherwise known as Heather Armstrong, admits that while most people in the blogging community have embraced her site, many others have sent hurtful responses her way. Even more damaging, some of her private musings have even caused a rift in her family. Keep Reading...

Homeschooling vs. Cults

Guest Blogger Pam Heilman is sick of being compared to religious fanatics just because she homeschools her three kids.

It appears that one type of person you can stridently criticize and insult these days with impunity is me, a Christian homeschooler. I suppose with the news from Eldorado, Texas, religious people are more suspect, but religion does not always play a part in a choice to homeschool, nor does isolation.

The Pajama Game

Motherhood is the New MBA wonders: Is fun the only motivator that works?

Getting my three kids into their pajamas is a pain in the arse. Every night. A Pain. We've got the sticker chart. I read the books. I watch the Nanny shows. I know these little stars beside "puts pajamas on" are supposed to motivate everyone to be good and get ready for bed. Sometimes it really works. And sometimes it doesn't.

Several nights ago, Dave stumbled upon something brilliant - the "eeny meany miney moe game".The girls love playing that game for eeeeeverything. So, one night, he lined up all three of them, started with one and tapped their heads in order, saying, "eeny meany miney moe, bekah, lexie, baby jo. My mother says to take off your shirt."

Keep Reading...

'I'm a Crappy Disciplinarian'

Guest blogger Rolemommy shares her struggle with mastering Discipline 101.

Funny that Mom•Logic ran an interesting post about discipline throughout the decades on the same day I failed miserably at keeping my kids in line. Picture the scene: A toy store. We're on a mission to buy three gifts for parties that are scheduled this weekend, the store is closing in less than 20 minutes, and my kids are like kids in a candy store. In a word: wild. After spending 10 minutes selecting gifts and cards, the kids meandered to the front of the store, and then the touching began. Keep Reading...

Too Much Information, Mom?

Guest blogger Andrea Barbalich on Eliot Spitzer's situation as a teachable moment.

My 8-year-old son now knows much more than he used to about what a man can hire a woman to do, thanks to Eliot Spitzer. I could be upset about this, but instead I'm looking on the bright side.

When your friend's mother writes a biography of Eliot Spitzer... and Eliot Spitzer makes news for having paid money to a high-priced prostitute...and the New York Times is delivered to your home each morning...and you can read...the question of what a prostitute is will arise. I had two choices: dodge it or answer it. I took a deep breath and told him. Keep Reading...

I'm His MOTHER, Not His Grandma!

Guest blogger Robin Gorman Newman, first-time Mom at 42, was stunned when she mistaken for her 5-year-old son's grandmother.

I never thought it would happen to me, but it did. I've heard others speak of it, but I figured I would never fit the bill, especially at this time in my life. I was wrong. Yesterday I was at our neighborhood diner with my husband, a friend and her two kids, and my son. I had taken him potty, and we were rushing to exit the bathroom. As we washed our hands, a woman entered the bathroom, saw us, and asked if I was the mom or grandmom? I was stunned. Livid. Totally caught off guard. And, suddenly quite self-conscious. I stole a fast glance in the bathroom mirror before we exited, examining the age of my face. Ok.....I don't look 22. I admit it. I have a couple of frown lines. I certainly feel more tired than I did when I was younger. But, could someone truly mistake me for a grandmother? I could be a grandmom at 47 Keep reading...

How About Mommy Rehab?

NYC Moms blogger Melissa, mother of two, is in desperate need of 'me' time.

It seems like every time I turn on the television or open a magazine, there's a newsy alert that yet another celebrity has entered rehab. Imagine having unlimited funds and hand-servants to do your bidding--and still not being able to handle all the pressure!

What about all us regular Moms, trying to stay on this treadmill of tending to our children's every need and desire while attempting to successfully balance a career, still remain a skinny minnie--okay that is one thing I am SO over!--and have a fantastic relationship with our spouse! You know what I'd really love...a Mommy rehab! Keep Reading...

Hey, Oscar...I Want My Four Hours Back!

Guest blogger Rolemommy, Mom of 2, weighs in on the Oscars.

I don't know about you, but I was all excited to tune into the Academy Awards last night. I couldn't wait to watch my favorite film stars adorn the stage in dazzling designer dresses and diamonds that were out of this world. What a letdown. I thought the awards themselves were a complete and utter bore!

Okay, I'll admit--I've only seen Ratatouille, Enchanted, and Juno at the movies this year. Maybe that's why I was so utterly uninterested when people I'd never even heard of won for movies I'll probably never see. And their speeches went on and on and on... Keep Reading...

Flu Perks For Moms

Rebecca of Main St. Diaries blogs about why the flu isn't so bad.

Good Things About Having the Flu With Small Children:

1. I'm catching up on sleep.
2. I may have lost a few pounds.
3. I don't have to cook supper.
4. Laundry? Who gives a .....?
5. I have gone four days with no coffee, alcohol, or sugar. Must be good for my skin. Keep Reading... for bad things about having the flu with little kids.