They couldn’t be more wrong.

Maybe we Southerners don’t know how to plow snow or drive on ice, but we do know how to turn even the tiniest snowfall into a lifetime memory. An epic experience. An endless photo stream that leaves all of our blizzard-weary Northern friends scratching their heads and saying, “What’s the big deal? It’s just a measly inch of slush! We get that much snow every single minute.”

No, our Yankee friends don’t always see snow the same way we do. It’s not their fault. When your house is buried up to the eaves in dirty snow all winter long (bless your hearts), snow eventually becomes a messy inconvenience—but for Southerners who see snow only a few magical days a year, it’s different. We have made a pact here in theSouth, almost as sacred as ice tea and Sunday suppers: Together we will uphold the Southern Snow Ethic, and teach our children to do the same. What’s the Southern Snow Ethic, you ask?

Not a single snowflake shall be wasted. Not on our watch.

Every flake that falls on Southern soil shall be played in, sledded on, and pounded into service as a slushy snowman. Every flurry-fall, however small, provides an opportunity for skipping school and work. Every sleet pellet shall be used to celebrate with childlike abandon alongside family, friends, and random neighbors we meet while pulling makeshift sleds down the street behind trucks, ATVs, and the occasional family pet.

Because of the Southern Snow Ethic, we can take two inches of ice and turn them into a glorious four-day extravaganza of sled-crafting, hill-hunting, and casserole-sharing.

With the Southern Snow Ethic, there are no excuses:

Not enough snow to make a full-sized snowman? Sure there is. You either borrow your neighbors’ snow, or you decorate the hood of your pickup with a snow-baby.

No snow boots? No problem. We can transform plastic grocery bags into waterproof snow boots. (And gloves and hats, if necessary.) We look ridiculous, but we don’t care. Our usual impeccable Southern fashion sense does not apply to Southern Snow Days.

No sleds? Think again. We can make sleds out of anything. And we do mean anything: cardboard, greased cookie sheets, garbage can lids, Styrofoam packaging, laundry baskets, garbage bags, even our beloved tailgate coolers.

No snow tires? Who cares? We don’t need chains on our tires to get us home from work in a snowstorm; we have our own frostbitten feet to walk us home for miles along the gridlocked highway, thank you very much.

Because it comes so rarely, we Southerners have the luxury of celebrating snow as the most beautiful of winter’s gifts. For us, it’s not a mess. Not a delay. Not an inconvenience.

We see snow as the essence of childhood, and innocence, and freedom. Something white, and pure, and beautiful. Something fun. Something surprising. Something no one—not the weatherman, not the government, not the superintendent—can control. It shows up, it takes over, and we just let it fall where it wills, for as long as it wants.

When it melts, we’ll get back to school, to work, to real life. But today—and maybe tomorrow, if the freeze holds—God himself has declared a Southern snow day, and that means a day off for everyone, no matter how rich or poor, blue collar or white collar or redneck under the collar. So grab your plastic bags and your laundry baskets, and have yourself a Southern Snow Day.

READ MORE FROM ELIZABETH:

• Everything You Need for Lice and Godliness
• 10 Ways to Encourage Kids to Open Up
• When Being a Grown-up Means You’re Still Growing Up

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The post How Southerners Do Snow Days first appeared on BonBon Break.

I met some super sweet women, ate delicious food, slept and worked out. It was amazing. Not only did I have a wonderful time, I learned a LOT, about my body (including my butt), my mind, food, sleep, people and my limits.

Here are some of the top takeaways from my trip. Hopefully, they’ll help you, whether in your daily life or on a solo vacation.

4 Things I Learned on my Solo Vacation

Mindful eating is easy

Mindful eating is all about no longer mindlessly shoveling food in your mouth, searching your plate for the next bite while you’re still chewing, but thinking about the food in your mouth, while you eat. It’s about slowing down and appreciating your food, exploring the tastes and textures and “being in the now” while you eat. Stop thinking about your to-do list or the fact that you need to shave your legs (I added that because, while I can mindfully eat, I can’t mindfully write and I need to shave my legs). One morning, I mindfully ate my weight in bacon. I thought about the bacon, I loved the bacon and I enjoyed every moment. I can learn!

Understand the company you keep

Because so many of us were traveling solo, they had a community dining table each night, to encourage meeting others. I spent my first night at the community table, raving about the bread, being the only one who ordered a glass of wine and requesting two desserts, (they’re really small desserts people). As I was eating my (first) dessert, people started talking about why they were at the resort and I found out, everyone at the table was there on a weight loss retreat. So, I’m sure they really appreciated my gushing about the carb-loaded bread, enjoying my wine and ordering a second dessert. Know your company.

When you eat really healthy, things happen. A lot

I won’t spend a lot of time on this but let’s just say, when you eat a ton of veggies, fruit, fish and lean meat, coupled with lots of water, fresh air, sunshine and working out, stuff begins to move in you. And eventually out of you. Like a sh&t ton of stuff. Enough said. Just be prepared and enjoy the lightness of being.

People can lose control on vacation

It happened a lot in the workout classes I was taking, as well as the meditation, yoga and relaxation classes. People just lost control. One woman was bending to jump up from the Bosu ball and she lost control…of her butt. I did a pretty good job of not losing control of my laughter, as I tried to continue the workout. I was now VERY aware of my own butt. It also happened in the relaxation classes, but this time it was me. I fell asleep. I “think” I kept my butt in check but who knows? I was asleep and yes, I snored.

These are only a few of the funnier things I learned while on my vacation, but I did have some more poignant “a-ha” moments. Like when I realized I enjoy being alone. Until I don’t. Then I need someone to talk to, even if it was the young table busser, who didn’t really know what to make of my non-stop questions about his life goals. When I saw he was chewing gum, I tried to make a little joke about how he should take the time to think about the gum. Where did it come from and how was it making him feel? I think I scared the poor boy. My water glass stayed empty the rest of my meal. I also learned that two massages in one week is totally do-able BUT, when in a place like this, be very aware of falling asleep. And your butt.

Getting away from reality for a week, alone, was a great motivator to come back to life refreshed, energized and ready to put into action all the plans I laid out while there. I’ve been back two weeks and have managed to buy the book I wanted to read about Mindfulness, (I have yet to start it but it IS purchased) and I stocked the wine fridge. I’m choosing to ease back into this whole real life thing.

It’s hard.

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The post 4 Things I Learned on My Solo Vacation first appeared on BonBon Break.

The Rookie Moms thought a mom-version of this would be a fun idea, and I couldn’t agree more. Here’s my version of Instagram vs. Real Life.

1. THE CHRISTMAS TREE SHOT

What it looks like he’s doing: 

Ah, Christmas morning! The Christmas glow and spirit is upon my son. Our Christmas tree is so beautiful that he looks up in wonder as he admires an ornament. Look how well-behaved he is by the tree.

What he is actually doing:
Probably about to rip off the one valuable ornament I forgot to put above his little reach. It’s a shot of the back of his head because he was wicked sick the day I took this picture and had snot all over his nose. Nonetheless, I thought I had a nanosecond to try and recreate this picture from Pinterest (as long as I added the right filter). Also, he was in his pyjamas because he wasn’t feeling well, and it wasn’t taken on Christmas morning.

2. THE CREATIVE FOOD SHOT

What it looks like I’m doing:
I’m clearly one of those awesome Pinterest moms because I made the toast look like a bear. My son giggled when he saw the cute bear and ate this up with glee while drinking organic milk.

What is actually happening:
Despite loving toast, peanut butter, bananas, and blueberries, my son wanted nothing to do with this snack and couldn’t have cared less that it looked like a bear. I don’t remember what he ate instead. Probably goldfish crackers.

3. THE INDEPENDENT PLAY SHOT

What it looks like he’s doing:
My son loves to sit and read his books by himself. He is clearly gifted. I don’t want to get in his way, so I’ll just sit in the chair and read my book while he continues to teach himself new language skills. We spent the whole morning like this, just reading our books in the quiet.

What we’re actually doing:
Seb does love to sit and read and stack his books, but once that pile tips over, it’s game over. I think I had read about two paragraphs of my book before that happened. Also, I’m trying to take this picture in secret because the second he sees the phone, he’ll just want to look at pictures and videos of himself.

4. THE FARMERS’ MARKET SHOT

What it looks like I’m doing:
Fresh fruit! I’m picking up some yummy local raspberries like I do every single week because I always have time to go to the farmers’ market. We have kale smoothies for breakfast daily and only eat local foods and healthy snacks in our house.

What we’re actually doing:
Seb had been sick (again), so I put him in the stroller and headed to the farmers’ market to get out of the house for a bit. I also needed to snap a few farmers’ market pics for a post I was writing over at the Ruralist that we didn’t even end up needing. I bought the raspberries only because I felt guilty about taking a picture of them and not buying anything.

5. THE POST-PREGNANCY SHOT

What it looks like I’m doing:
Having a night out with friends at Skyzone. Jumping on a trampoline like it’s no one’s business.

What I’m actually doing:
Realizing that since giving birth, I can’t jump on a trampoline without peeing a little bit.

6. THE BABY’S FIRST CHRISTMAS SHOT

What it looks like he’s doing:
We’re setting up the Christmas tree, and it’s Seb’s first Christmas, so he’s helping. He picks up the lights as if he’s picking up a handful of magic and love, so I sneak in a quick photo of him to capture this special moment.

What we’re actually doing:
This was totally staged because, again, I wanted to try and recreate a photo I saw on Pinterest. We had to keep reminding Seb not to chew on the lights. My husband spent the whole time I was taking these pictures looking at me like I was crazy.

7. THE HEALTHY EATING SHOT

What it looks like I’m doing:
I can totally eat these eight little jube jubes because check out that massive healthy smoothie I’ll be drinking as well. Cucumber, spinach, apple…all yummy things! I drink smoothies like this all the time and only have jube jubes as a special treat which is why I took a picture of them.

What I’m actually doing:
I ate waaaaay more than the eight jube jubes in this picture. This smoothie was the beginning of a 7-day “real food only” challenge I was starting the following morning. I lasted about two days of the challenge before I caved and ate chocolate that was in the office at work.

8. THE STARBUCKS SHOT

What it looks like we’re doing:
It’s so easy to take my toddler to Starbucks for breakfast. He drinks his milk and eats his muffin while sitting calmly on the chair and watching the people and dogs go by. I slowly sip my non-fat latte with no sense of urgency whatsoever.

What we’re actually doing:
My husband was away with the car, so I needed a stroller-friendly activity and wanted to kill a few extra minutes before we inevitably ended up at the park. Seb is eating my muffin because it’s the only way he’ll sit still on the chair. Moments after this picture was taken, the muffin was finished, and we were off to the park. I think that’s where I finally got to drink my latte.

9. THE BIRTHDAY SHOT

What it looks like we’re doing:
We’re so crafty around here we can make our birthday invitations on the chalkboard wall. We do this kind of thing every day. Right after we get back from toddler and me yoga. It’s no big deal. Seb couldn’t be happier to have a Spiderman party so, of course, it only took one shot to get him standing by the wall and smiling in his Spiderman shirt. Speaking of the t-shirt, can you see how happy he is wearing it? His new favourite shirt for sure.

What we’re actually doing:
It took about 75 pictures to get one of Seb kind of looking at the camera while standing by the chalkboard wall. He hated being forced to put on a new Spiderman t-shirt and cried. It looks like he’s smiling, but that’s only because my husband is showing him one of his favourite Youtube videos on the iPad behind my head.

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The post Instagram Versus Real Life first appeared on BonBon Break.

Obviously, the most effective way to discuss political campaigns is via the latest fashion campaigns. So let’s get motivated and take a few tips from the glossy ad pages of our favorite magazines:

Jokes are a hoot, sure. But the future of our country is no joke. So if you’re thinking even for a second of voting for that orange-haired-lunatic-you-know-who because it makes some sarcastic statement about your dissatisfaction with politics, as usual, STOP. Take it from Our Lady of the Crazy Eyes herself, Juliette Lewis: one minute, you’re like, “Hey, check it out! Red pleather pants — funny, right?” and the next, you’re all mixed up in a sequined-argyle moon boots nightmare while the ghost of Dolly Madison stands by and does nothing to help. Then you’ll be making this face for the next four years.

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As we know, Lands’ End doesn’t believe in women’s equality, but it does believe in throwing the quirkiest treehouse bash ever. So give up your dreams of making a fair wage, gals, but go ahead and get soaped up in a tub with your dog — that’s just good sense. No, I’m kidding. Don’t do any of this. This whole picture is the worst advice ever. That guy in the hammock over on the left is inches from getting a glass windowpane through the abdomen. This is a picture of instability, and while the world may seem like an unstable place right now, it’s only going to get more screwed up if we don’t vote. So speak up before you end up hiding under a shower door clothespinned to a tree like that kid there.

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This patriotic pasta party is a cautionary tale if I’ve ever seen one. Sure, we may not actually be eating spaghetti with our hands at a technicolor sidewalk cafe, but think about it: The Americans in this picture are the very image of selfie-snapping, out-of-control consumption. Look how the Italians are giggling at them. Is this what we look like to the rest of the world? One thing’s for sure: Italy won’t be the only country chuckling at our silliness if we don’t get off our asses and do something about who gets the White House next year.

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Put it this way: Not voting is as unwise as meeting up outside a diner to do a shady deal with a disco leprechaun who may or may not be Keri Russell in one of her wigged disguises from The Americans.

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You know what happens if you don’t vote? An extra from The Royal Tenenbaums comes up and steals your bird. Then where will you be? Stranded on the subway steps with a surly attitude and no peacock, that’s where.

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Look, maybe it’s hard to get excited about any of the candidates. That’s understandable. But don’t let your ennui become inertia. If all you do is lean on the hand-dryer and sigh, you’re allowing everyone else to make all the choices. And look at those two. Do you really want to leave them in charge? She’s so drunk she fell asleep wearing her driving gloves, and he’s so stoned he’s about to say the Pledge of Allegiance to your hair because he thinks it’s a flag.

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If you don’t have your say about who runs our country, a lot of our best resources — like sanity and decency — could dry up just like water in the desert. Then it won’t matter if you put on your best earth-toned ball gown or not; there’ll be no more fun for anyone.

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If we don’t want to sit around on rocks waiting for someone to save us, we’ve got to act.

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So put on your patriotic best and cast your vote. Just remember: Being pro-stars doesn’t have to mean you’re anti-stripes. Even when we disagree on some issues, we often have more in common than we think.

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If you prefer a flowery frock to a power pantsuit, that’s cool. But make sure to show you’re the kind of broad who knows her vote matters as much as any dude’s by carrying a subversive prop when you head to the polls. A nice, juicy wiener ought to do it.

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That’s right, America. Your nuts are in our hands.

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Fetch your sapphires, gals. It’s time to rustle some amber waves of grain.

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This post was syndicated with permission to BonBon Break Media LLC.

The post How to Be a Lady Person in an Election Year first appeared on BonBon Break.

The info is out there, but it can be daunting to read through everything, to look up the science behind the claims, and then to try and find recipes you want to eat. Since I’ve spent so much time reading, I figured I would make your life a little easier and summarize everything for you; all in one place!

Breakfast:

Smoothies! Oh the variety, like this one:

1 c. chopped red cabbage

1/2 red bell pepper

1 Roma tomato

5 medium strawberries

1/2 c. raspberries

8 oz. cold water

1 ice cube [optional] – (just one, because too much ice is…cold)

If you want to know what despair tastes like, make that.

Oh, and protein powders with sweeteners are bad (natural or artificial, unless it’s from Stevia, which is OK because it’s plant based. Oh wait, nope that’s not OK because it still confuses your pancreas), and the powders without sweeteners taste like ass, so I cut that out.

A recent study showed almond milk is hardly “almond” at all and mostly fillers, so I just used water.

So water and kale smoothie. Or eggs, lots, and lots of eggs.

Lunch:

Wraps – these are so wonderfully versatile! I opted not to get the Paleo wraps which consisted of coconut meat, coconut water, and coconut oil – I just couldn’t. I opted for whole grain, high protein tortilla wraps and filled one with turkey lunch meat, spinach, hummus, and tomato.

Then I researched the alkaline diet, which my massage therapist recommended. It says grains are bad, and I read that lunch meat is bad overall – even the organic kind. I cut the wrap and turkey out, which was OK because the tortilla was dry, hard, and tasted like wood.

Then a friend told me hummus is hard for your body to digest – the beans – and causes excess gas and bloating, so that was out.

So spinach and tomato, on…a plate.

Dinner:

I really thought I had this one figured out. I would do some lean protein or fish, quinoa, and a salad.

Meat needs to be grass fed, have lived outdoors, suckled until it felt “ready” to ween, cuddled at least 30 mins daily, and sourced only from within a 50-mile radius of my house (something to do with local allergens or some voodoo). I couldn’t find that meat at my local grocer. Meat was out. The fish needs to be wild caught, sustainable, and even then, it probably has micro beads in it, so I stayed away from fish.

OK, I could do some yummy quinoa and salad.

But then I remembered grains are bad (by now, I’m so effing hungry I can’t recall why) and on some diets, you can’t eat grains and veggies at the same time. It messes up the digestive process and enzymes. F********ck.

I’m left with salad.

Dessert:

There is no dessert! And don’t try and sell me on the frozen banana-only ice cream or the gluten-free, sugar-free, grain-free, taste-free cakes either. I can tell the difference; I’m on to you!

You can have an apple. Doesn’t that sound yummy and all comfort-food like? Oh, simply bake it for a bit with a dash of cinnamon so it tastes like NO APPLE PIE EVER!

I did find this little drink, (I’m not getting paid for promoting it). It tastes like life and does give you a pep in your step.

Key takeaways:

You can eat spinach, kale, and tomato. And water.

OR…

You can do what I did and go to See’s Candy, get a box of chocolates to pair with your delicious wine or cocktail of choice, and smile again. But only the small box because, hello – DIET!

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The post The Secret to Dieting first appeared on BonBon Break.

Let’s discuss things like important life skills, baby. Things these children will benefit from knowing long after the carpooling, lollygagging childhood days are over. Let’s arm them with knowledge that will assist them in making friends, luring lovers and getting invited to multiple holiday parties. Because if we’re honest here, and I assume we are, I think we can all agree that the reason Bob and Karen have such a happy marriage isn’t because Karen learned how to ride a cranky senior horse named Caramel in the summer of 1989. They have managed to stay married because Bob knows how to fold towels and Karen knows what in the holy hell an HDMI cord is.

Instead of hockey camp, here are a few ideas I have for camps I’d enjoy spending money on:

CAMP “CLOSE THE EFFING DOOR”.

There’s a trite old saying that goes something like, “When one door closes, a window opens”. I wouldn’t know about that because NOBODY CLOSES DOORS in my house. And I’m not just talking about the front/back doors. Nope. You name a door, and my kids will leave it gaping open like Chris Christie’s mouth during a Trump press conference. Fridge door? Yeah. Guess what, darling? If you pull open that drawer labeled “Crisper” you have to shut it. Otherwise, the fridge stays open all night long. Kind of like Taco Bell but instead of a tortilla filled with monkey meat you get $20 worth of warm milk and e-Coli.

Cupboard doors, bedroom doors, attic doors (I know it’s kind of Discovery Channel that we have bats in our belfry but leaving that door open is an invite to an Amityville nightmare I am not equipped to handle). Garage doors, entertainment center doors and medicine cabinet drawers. At Camp CLOSE THE EFFING DOOR the sanctity of leaving things as you found them (IE: CLOSED) will be lesson numero uno.

IKEA CAMP.

At this camp, the kids would spend their days and nights inside their local Ikea store, learning things like how to assemble a desk using only an Allen wrench, their tears, and expletives. They’ll also learn the secret meaning of all those funny product names AND how to prepare a plate of kick-ass meatballs. Your children’s future roommates/ partners will love you for choosing this camp.

CAMP COCKTAIL.

Relax, people. No actual alcohol will be in the same proximity as your underage snowflakes. They will, however, receive a super-size serving of basic drinking knowledge that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. Here is where they will learn stuff like how to salt a rim without clumping, how to open a bottle of tonic without the whole thing exploding like Mt. Vesuvius and the right way to cut a freaking lime. Won’t it be nice when Junior knows you like it shaken, not stirred? Ahhh. Family movie night just became a little more relaxing, mama.

HOW TO NOT BE A TOTAL DICK ON SOCIAL MEDIA CAMP.

Yeah I know, Facebook is just for us old farts now but let’s be proactive in making the social media world a fun place for future citizens. At this camp, there will be several offshoot groups, with topics like “Absolutely Nobody Wants To See Your Feet”, “You Shouldn’t Hit ‘Like’ on Sad Posts” and “The Art Of Reading Before Sharing.” Counselors will train the kids to take viral videos in landscape vs. portrait and how to organize snarky memes, so they are instantly accessible during comment section fights.

CAMP TARGET.

Here, kids will learn from experts the Art of Targeting. Young Hazel will be a Cartwheel ninja after six weeks at Camp Target. Our babies will know exactly how to navigate the clearance endcaps when the free popcorn is at its freshest and the right way to angle your cart so as not to block everyone’s path while you weigh the pros and cons of buying that chevron throw pillow.

There will also be a financial aspect to this camp: once your child masters the skill of “stacking” deals (sale price + Cartwheel deal + pharmacy rewards + 5% RedCard discount), you will never yearn for “alone time” at Target again.

TOWEL CAMP.

This is the camp where kids finally discover how to live with towels. They’ll learn the right way to fold them (the tri-fold way or the highway, dearies). Experts in the field of terrycloth textiles will teach the kids that it really won’t kill them to use the same towel twice and that we know towels dry out faster when hung up vs. languishing on the floor because science.

There will also be specialized classes where the kids will find out exactly what towels should be used for (drying off their bodies, wiping up the floor after a bath/shower and covering up post-cleansing) and what they shouldn’t be used for (wiping butts/noses, rolled up under doors to hide the smell of ganja, left under a teenage boy’s bed until it’s actually a petrified masturbation fossil). Functional washers/dryers will be on-site to show the kids how much fun it is to launder said towels.

FUTURE MOMMY BLOGGER BOOT CAMP.

 Because let’s face it, ladies…at some point we’re all going to write that “So long, suckahs!” final blog post and there has to be someone to document all of this incredibly important stuff when we’re gone. At this camp, I envision several breakout groups, kind of like the real live big time blogger conferences. Only at Future Mommy Blogger Boot Camp, instead of topics like “Monetizing Your Blog” and “Where To Find Awesome Free Stock Photos” the upcoming members of the Yoga Pants Mafia will learn stuff like this:

• 100 Euphemisms For “Vagina”
• How To Write A Listicle 
• MEME FEVER! How to make ALL THE THINGS into a viral meme
• The Open Letter: This Is How We Do It
• For Boys Only: The Nuts and Bolts of Being A Daddy Blogger
• Formula/Breast/Natural/C-Section/Vaxxer/SAHM/Working Mom Labels And How to Alienate People

Please note that these camps are purely fantasy and there is no way you can sign up for them. Not now, not last minute. There are no early bird specials and definitely no scholarships. You can add to the dreaminess if you like, while you’re perusing your calendar and your bank balance and trying, desperately, to find a place for your offspring to get all camped up this summer.

If you do happen to see a camp like any of these, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY AND SWEET AND PURE let me know.

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Hi! It’s that time of year again, and our family would like to invite you to share Thanksgiving with us. I’ve tried calling and left a few messages (you guys sure are busy), so I thought I’d send an old-fashioned invite. I understand if, after last year, you might be a little hesitant, but rest assured, we will not have a repeat of 2014 (my heart can’t take it!).

We’d love to have you join us early in the day as I’m going to – once again – have some crafts and fun stuff for the kids to do. I know it seems like after last year I wouldn’t think that this is a good idea, but I think my boys have done some maturing since then. I’ve talked to them about how we don’t make crafts out of our friends, and I hid the super glue. While I’m still baffled that they found it last year AND thought it was a good idea to make a “zombie turkey” out of Zack, we’ve talked about the dangers of super gluing your cousin’s face with fake feathers and putting the glue in his hair so the fake blood ketchup would stick. Boys! I was thrilled to see Zack’s school picture this year; it looks like his hair has grown in nicely! I also spoke to our neighbor’s daughter Lily and explained that, while I loved her creativity in adding sparkly glitter and flowers to the glue/ ketchup/ blood scenario to make the zombie a “fairy zombie turkey,” we needed to keep the creativity on the craft table, not on our friends.

Thanksgiving will be a smaller affair this year as Gramma and Grandpa are unable to join us. Grandpa has decided that, due to his high blood pressure, it might be best to lay low. I did explain to him that the boys will be on their best behavior, and we will NOT have a repeat of what I’ll call the “Turkey Fiasco.” I explained that the turkey was our dinner, and that people thought it was a bit gross to have their dinner paraded in on a baseball bat, dressed up in a pink tutu, ballet shoes and a pink boa, even if they did use Lily’s doll clothes to make it cute. I’m just glad I had enough chicken in the freezer for everyone to eat.

I’m thinking a pot-luck style affair might be fun this year, so I’m asking everyone to bring a side dish. The plus side to this is it means less time for the boys to hide their plastic bugs in the food again! I’m kidding! I’ve thrown out all of the plastic bugs this year. I don’t think any of us could handle the fright of seeing another plastic spider in our cranberry sauce.

Finally, I should address the pink elephant in the room (and the reason for the title of this invitation). I am confident that my boys have learned a valuable lesson about respect, being thankful, and potential E. coli contamination. I thought the chocolate dipping dessert bar would be super fun for the kids. My boys have never really liked pie, but they love it when I melt chocolate and let them dip marshmallows or fruit into it. I thought it would be a great alternative for all of the kids, and I’m still appalled that they played such a mean trick on Ben. Both my older boys now see that dipping their dog’s dried poo into the chocolate and telling their younger brother it was a big tootsie roll is a nasty, ugly thing to do. Plus, they felt horrible when Ben didn’t want it, set it down and Grandpa picked it up and ate it. It makes me sick just remembering the 911 call and Grandpa’s panic attack. I completely understand his desire to stay home this year.

So, I hope I’ve made you feel at ease about joining us again this year. While kids will be kids, Tom and I have worked on helping our boys understand the importance of making good decisions and not being gross. I think it will be a wonderful holiday, one we’ll look back upon with joy and laughs.

We love you all and look forward to a joyous holiday.

p.s. Tom and I recently joined a few wineries, and he’s started brewing his own beer so . . . we have drinks!

Head to the Family Room

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 This post was written by Heather LeRoss exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Please Join Us for a Poop-Free Thanksgiving! first appeared on BonBon Break.

This question was a common one flung at me during our early marriage. I’m particular about certain things that my husband is more relaxed about, and I bring them up with him, every time. One of my many charms is that I allow few infractions to go unmentioned in our home.

Did you use my toothbrush? Please don’t put your feet on me. Why are there drops of pee on the floor? There are wipes in every bathroom. Clean up after yourself!

For my husband, anything other than praise is a problem; in the absence of admiration there must be hatred.  Creating a perpetrator-victim scenario is a logical solution.

“I don’t hate you,” I used to defend myself. Hate my husband? Crazy – hate is such a strong word. I love him, devote myself to his care and companionship. Hatred is not a feeling I associate when thinking of my spouse. But I’ve asked him not to put his feet on me dozens of times, and “I just don’t want you to use my toothbrush. I think it’s disgusting.”

Ten or twenty times defending my natural state to him, and I started to rethink things. I flew off the handle more often; I became grouchy. There were times when I entertained hate. Then I realized that his obliviousness to my desires and subsequent reactions to my complaints were the real problems. I couldn’t accept the overstep, but I stopped feeling defensive and refused to play into his game of guilt. He knew I didn’t hate him; he was just trying to deflect attention from his mistakes. To allay actual hatred, I tried simple explanation.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Because you used my toothbrush again. I’ve asked you not to, and you keep doing it.”

Soon after, I appealed to spark self-awareness:

“Because I feel like you don’t listen to me.”

“Because I feel ignored by you.”

Growing weary with explanation and psychology, I tried extremism:

“Because you have a penis.”

“Because your presence makes me want to run away forever.”

“Because your behavior makes me want to shave my head and rip off your arms.”

After a while, I got tired of being grouchy about minor infractions, but I didn’t stop mentioning them. Separate toothbrush baskets under the sink solved that riddle, but there was still urine on the floor. And his feet kept creeping over to rub against my legs…

Stop. Putting. Your. Feet. On. Me.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Because you’re dumb.”

“Because you can’t sing.”

“Because you’re not George Clooney.”

These days he doesn’t ask why I hate him. He’s accepted that there will be certain things that he does that make me grouchy. He has found the wipes, and he’s stopped most of the gross habits that disgust me, and sometimes, he just doesn’t care. After all, we are different types of people. He does something repugnant, I roll my eyes at him, and we move on. We’ve also come to an agreement on some things. For instance, if I put my feet on him, he won’t put his on me.

I don’t miss those “Why do you hate me” times. Although I’m often wistful for the past, I’m glad that those years are behind us. We’ve put to bed most of the reasons why we might hate each other so much.

And we’ve learned that if you can still find love throughout the grouchiness, it’s worth a lot.

Head to the Bedroom

This post was syndicated with permission to BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Why I Hate My Husband first appeared on BonBon Break.

Day 2: In the only free time you have available to exercise, spend it looking for the You Can Hip-Hop at 40! DVD that your kids took out of the DVD player to pop in their Star Wars movie.

Day 3: Take your kids to the beach. Carry one of them on your back all afternoon because he doesn’t like the feel of sand.

Day 4: Jump into the mix when your kids engage in a brawl. Get kicked in the stomach and dry heave the rest of the night.

Day 5: Negotiate with your 10-year-old for an hour about doing his homework. Look guiltily at the fruit bowl on the table as you rip into a bag of Doritos in frustration.

Day 6: Join your kids when they’re jumping rope in the driveway. Trip on the rope after 12 seconds and fall to the ground. Spend the rest of the night nursing your swollen ankle.

Day 7: Spend every spare moment running your kids to soccer practice, trumpet lessons, youth group, art class, chess club, and Boy Scout meetings. No time to go grocery shopping. Drink water to stay hydrated and nibble on stale crackers you found in your purse.

Day 8: Instead of making a full plate for yourself, just eat all the vegetables your kids didn’t touch at dinner.

Day 9: Look at yourself in a dimly lit mirror without your contacts in. You look pretty good, don’t you?

Day 10: Drive to Hobby Lobby to pick up supplies for your kid’s forgotten science fair project due tomorrow. Skip dinner. Spend the rest of the night helping him find and print images of the heart, lungs and other internal organs. Wonder why glue sticks really don’t work as you keep re-gluing pictures to the poster board.

Day 11: Take your kids to the park. Push them on the swings for a few minutes. Sit on the bench and revel in your upper body strength.

Day 12: Join a gym. Look over the group exercise schedule and excitedly plan out which classes you’ll go to. Show up, put your kids in the gym’s childcare and relax in the sauna for 30 minutes.

Day 13: Lunge down to retrieve Legos strewn all over the floor, making sure your knees are aligned over your ankles on the way down.

Day 14: Listen to your kids argue about whose turn it is to feed the cat. Feel drained. Pour yourself a glass of wine.

Day 15: Tend to a sick child all night, racking up a whopping three hours of sleep. Stumble through the next day in a fog. Mistake exhaustion for hunger pains and eat a pint of ice cream.

Day 16: Sign up to do a Color Run with your family. Begin training. Give up in defeat when you try to run around the block but can’t make it past the third driveway.

Day 17: Shoot hoops with your kids. Forget how much you suck at sports. Hit the rim with the basketball and try to duck as it ricochets back at your head. Wake up on the couch three hours later with an ice bag on your head, wondering what the hell happened.

Day 18: Carry a load of laundry upstairs. Feel winded on the way up. Lie down on your bed and take a nap.

Day 19: Wake up early today. Sneak quietly downstairs to do some yoga before anyone wakes up. Get in downward facing dog pose. Try to hold your balance as both your cat and your toddler dart out from behind the couch and encircle your legs.

Day 20: Chase your cat as he escapes through the front door that one of your kids left open. Run around the neighborhood obstacle course as you hunt for kitty, jumping over garbage cans, soccer balls, sprinkler heads and bags of mulch. Scoop up the cat (now cowering behind the electrical box), then rush home breathless and vomit in the flower bed.

Day 21: Trip on the light saber sticking out from under the couch. While you’re face down on the floor, plank for 30 seconds. Weigh yourself. Rejoice at the stress-induced 5 lb. weight loss of being a parent.

Head to the Family Room

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 This post was written by Lisa Beach exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post 21 Day Weight Loss Plan: Parenting Edition first appeared on BonBon Break.

It was really exhausting.

Like, REALLY exhausting.

I speak from experience. I didn’t have a smart phone when I had my first baby. At the time, my friend with newborn twins told me about a baby sleep book she was reading. My biggest questions for her had nothing to do with sleep; they were
a) How in the world do you have time to read? and
b) How do you hold the book?!

Her answers for both? She had a smart phone.

You can bet that when I had my second baby, I made sure I had one of those suckers, too.

Here are some of the ways that the smart phone has made middle-of-the-night feedings almost tolerable (for a little while, anyway).

Alarm clocks

With my first baby, it got to the point that I barely got him latched on for a midnight feeding before I completely zonked out (not safe, I know, but I truly couldn’t help it). I’d wake up 90 minutes later, cursing, and not knowing if I had switched sides, or how much he ate. He usually woke up hungry again 20 minutes later. After a few nights of that, I gave up even trying to put him in the crib when I awoke and just started nursing him all over again. Three hours after the initial wake-up I climbed back into my bed. It was the worst. Now, I do my best to stay awake long enough to set three alarms on my phone when I start: one to wake me after each side, and one called “Go to bed!” for after I hold him upright to keep his reflux in check.

Baby Care Apps

I stressed so much in my first newborn’s early weeks, using a paper and pen – in the dark – to log all his feeding stuff. How many times did he nurse? How long? Which side? Did he pee? Poop? What color? Now, apps do the work for me. Thank you, Genius App Creator People.

Celebrity Gossip Sites

I’ve downloaded a couple of high-quality literary novels and I do read some parenting articles on my phone, but nothing keeps me awake better than my repertoire of People.com, USmagazine.com, and (when I’m really desperate) TMZ.com. At 1.00 a.m., my brain can’t process much more than those kinds of stories. The only thinking I need to do is to try to figure out which celebrities (if any) are ones that I’ve actually heard of.

Email

Wanna know when you had time to type emails when you had a newborn, before smart phones came along? Never.

Flashlight

No more tripping over swings and bouncy seats.

Google

Now you can use some of the time you’re just sitting there to find the answers to your most burning questions: Will my baby ever sleep? Will my baby ever go more than two hours without eating? How much do overnight nannies charge???

Nighttime Selfies

Is this a thing? I have no idea if this is a thing. As you can gather from the fact that I had a baby before I had a smart phone, I am old, and I don’t get the whole “selfie” thing. But according to People.com, USmagazine.com, and TMZ.com, a lot of people take selfies. So I’m throwing this in here as something else you younger moms might find fun.

Texting with Other Moms

The best part about having a smart phone is that it takes some of the isolation out of being up multiple times a night for weeks (months) on end to feed your baby. This is what I used to think to myself when I’d be sitting there, alone, without a smart phone:

I’m so tired. I can’t stand this. I love my baby, and this was kind of exciting the first few nights, but now, I can’t stand it. And I can’t stand my husband. Because he’s sleeping. And snoring.

Now, this is the kind of text exchange that I can have with my sister at 4.00 a.m. because she has a newborn, too:

Nevertheless, at the end of the day night, it doesn’t matter how smart your phone is. It could be the defending Jeopardy champion, but sleep deprivation would eventually prevail. When you find yourself waking up two hours after you started nursing with a crick in your neck, three alarms going off, and this unfinished text to your sister . . .

. . . . you know it’s time to start downloading some articles from OMGSleepThroughTheNightAlready.com. Until then, rest assured (ha ha… rest…) that middle of the night feedings are at least a little bit less torturous than they used to be.

Head to the Family Room

PIN IT FOR LATER:

This post was syndicated with permission to BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post How Smart Phones Revolutionized Midnight Feedings first appeared on BonBon Break.

START Rant <RANT>

So, I have noticed the newest thing all over Facebook is apparently worms in their wipes (first it was glass, but now people are moseying back to this one from awhile back) — so a few people got a bad box or package of wipes. It happens. In my opinion, you should always be careful and watch what you use on your child. It is an easy matter of check it, see something odd, chuck it and on to the next one. Certain people are blowing this waaaaaay out of proportion. This is to them…

Let me make myself clear on one point.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with alerting friends and community when you find something odd in a product. I am directing this conversation to the people who fear monger and say, “Never use this product again!” “Anyone using this product you’re putting your child’s life at risk!” “You’re horrible stop it now!” “Boycott them, the company should be ashamed, they’re harming our children!” “Blah blah blah!”

Those are the people who drive me crazy, and whom I am ranting about, not the gentle people who are just like, “Hey, just wanted y’all to know we found this in our package of noodles. Check yours just in case. Have great day!”

I’m also not saying you shouldn’t do the aforementioned crazy response if there is something actually very dangerous discovered, but there are times it is appropriate and times where it’s just not necessary. Check your alarm rate and proceed accordingly.

I need to go change a diaper…and yes, I will check before I wipe.

END rant </RANT>

EDITOR’S NOTE: There has been HUGE Facebook conversation around glass shards in wipes as well. Calm down folks. Here is Huggie’s response.

In the comments, it states that these “shiny particles” are normal and they are not glass or fiberglass. Huggie’s is working with the parents who had the original claim to determine what is going on with their wipes.

READ THESE NEXT:

• Dressing to the Code
• A+ Back to School Tips
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• Moms Behaving Badly

READ MORE FROM THE FRONT PORCH

This post was written by Gemma Dunn-Pratt exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC

The post Can You See the Worms in My Huggies Wipes? first appeared on BonBon Break.

It’s okay, honey. Let your feelings out!

Now, like most things parenting, who’s lost in this equation?

You guessed it.

Mom.

I mean, Hel-lo? What about our needs? Sure, we may be sitting home eating bonbons and watching HGTV all day, but we are just as involved in this school thing as those little people who will no longer be in our homes. Little people who spent the last months of their lives thinking we were their personal Julie the Social Director/Alice the Maid.

But seriously, all things school-related can turn motherhood – already an all-consuming job –into something that could have made Mother Theresa herself kick the lepers and shake her fists at the heavens. Don’t we moms deserve supplies that will keep us from hiding under the dining room table speaking gibberish and being hauled from our homes in a straitjacket? Don’t we moms need deserve new gear that could mean our very survival?

Don’t we deserve a back-to-school supply list of our very own?

Hell to the yes we do! And if the items below were available for public use, or existed at all for that matter, we’d be knocking each other down to get them.

1. Beds with an “EJECT” button.

2. “Accepting That Your Child is (Maybe) Slightly Above Average” on Audiobook

3. Organic bully repellent spray

4. An anti-lice halo (also organic, of course!)

5. An invisibility cloak.

6. A Hazmat Suit

7. Common-core-homework-sensitive Wine Drip

8. Self-preparing lunchboxes

9. Mitten clips for EVERYTHING

10. A badass mom-uniform.  Make that 5.

11. Wigs for impossible hair days

12. An STFU app for asshat parents, kids, teachers, and coaches.

13. A supervisor who keeps us on schedule while the kids are gone

14. Kids’ breakfasts that vaporize if not eaten within 20 minutes

15. A vaccine against projects remembered at the last minute and lost permission slips

16. More relaxing and enjoying before they’re on their own.

Happy Back to School!

What do you need to get you through the school year?

READ MORE FROM KEESHA:

• Moms Behaving Badly
• Pffft — Just You Wait, New Mom
• Have Some White Privilege with Your Coffee

ABOUT KEESHA: Before her two children re-choreographed her life, Keesha was a professional dancer who performed in the U.S. and in Europe. Today she teaches modern and jazz dance in the Chicago area. She is also the human cyclone behind the blog Mom’s New Stage. Keesha is one of the select contributing authors of In The Powder Room’s first anthology, You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth. Her writing has been featured on Mamapedia, The Huffington Post, in the New York Times bestselling anthology I Just Want to Pee Alone, and I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone. She was recently awarded a Voice of the Year Award for her Bonbon Break original piece, Dear White Mom.

Follow Keesha on Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Google +

ABOUT JESSICA: Jessica Ziegler is Science of Parenthood’s co-creator, illustrator and contributing writer. Her writing and illustration have been published on The Huffington Post, BonBonBreak.com and InThePowderRoom.com. In 2015 she was named a Blogher Humor Voice of the Year. Her books include the highly acclaimed The Big Book of Parenting Tweets and The Bigger Book of Parenting Tweets and the upcoming Science Of Parenthood: Thoroughly Unscientific Explanations for Utterly Baffling Parenting Situations (Nov 2015) from She Writes Press.

Follow Science of Parenthood on: their blog | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Google +

This post was written by Keesha Beckford and illustrated by Jessica Ziegler exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Mama’s Back To School Supply List first appeared on BonBon Break.