10 Things Never to Say to a Mama

I found these hilarious lists on Redbook.com and I just had to share... Happy Friday!

10 Things Never to Say to a Stay-at-Home Mom

1. When the kids are older, do you think you'll get a real job?

2. How June Cleaver of you!

3. Oh, so you don't work?

4. Since you have extra time on your hands, could you whip up a few dozen brownies for the bake sale tomorrow?

5. All day with your kids? I can't even imagine.

6. I'm jealous. I wish my husband were rich so I wouldn't have to work either.

7. What do you do all day, anyway?

8. I'm sure you're not the only one who's ever wasted money on a college degree.

9. That explains why your son is so clingy!

10. Weird. I assumed your house would be superclean.

—Candy Kirby of thelaughingstork.com, with help from her Twitter followers and friends


10 Things Never to Say to a Working Mom
1. It must be hard missing all those special moments every day.

2. I suppose it's smart that you're working. You know, in case your husband leaves you some day.

3. I'm surprised you went back to work. Your husband seems so successful.

4. It's cute when they call your nanny "Mama."

5. I just love my kids too much to leave them during the day.

6. Did you see Dateline? The one with the hidden camera in the day care?

7. I could never let someone else raise my children. But that's just me!

8. I hated my mom because she was never home after school like everyone else's mom.

9. You must feel so guilty.

10. I wish I were as laid-back as you and could just let the housework go.

—Liz Gumbinner of Mom-101.com, with help from her blog readers

Keep It Movin'

About 50 times every day, I say to Miss Paige, "Keep it movin'. Just keep it movin'." She knows this means that it's time for her to move onto the next thing because she's about to get in trouble for what she is doing at the moment. Eventually she figures out she needs to "keep it movin'" past certain obstacles - like Lenni's dog bowls, potted plants, the TV. Unless she wants to get in trouble, she needs to keep on her way towards more appropriate toys and activities that will result in positive outcomes.

I've realized that over the past few years since becoming mama (with baby in belly, and then in arms), this has become my personal mantra - "Keep it movin'. Just keep it movin'." I don't have the time or patience for negativity, stupidity, drama, etc. Gone are the days of worrying if someone is mad at me, judging me, let down by the things I have or haven't done. I'm no longer concerned with people who want to stand still in their confines of anger, resentment, judgment, fear... I just keep it movin' right past them. I used to be overly concerned about pleasing people and meeting up to their expectations of me. Now? I still strive to do my personal best and live up to my potential as a Child of God. But I don't do it to please other people. I do it to please myself, God and for the benefit of my family and friends. I live the best life I can, making sure not to take a single minute for granted. Negativity and the like can only slow me down... and I've got too many good things going on to get tied down in that nonsense. Interested is being a part of the positivity? Join in! Not interested in change and letting go of the nonsense of life? Sorry, but I'm just gonna "keep it movin'" right by ya.

One Hot Mama

That's right. I'm hot. Very hot. And no, I'm not referencing my hot body which includes multiplying stretch marks, cankles and enough gray hairs - that, if plucked - could be loomed and woven into a sizeable silver blanket. I'm referring to my internal temperature, which at the moment, feels like a teakettle about to boil over. If this is a preview of what hot flashes during menopause might be like, God help us all. I usually walk around the house in a tank top and shorts, because honestly, any more clothing and I might erupt. So when I boarded the plane yesterday morning to fly to NY with a squirmy Miss Paige in tow, I knew it was going to be a sweat fest. First of all, it was one of those smaller "commuter" planes... because for some reason Delta must think commuters don't have legs, arms or butts that would call for regular sized seats with leg room and arm rests. And, to top it off, the air vents didn't seem to be pumping enough air. On a plane, I want to feel the cool breeze blowing through my hair... not what feels like hot dog breath huffing down my neck. So there I was, prego body smushed into an anorexic seat, bear hugging Paige to keep her from grabbing the french fries my seat mate was eating. Along with Paige, I was swathed in her heavy, furry blankie in hopes she would forget she was on a plane and fall asleep... no such luck my friends. Up, down, up, down. At one point Paige thought it would be funny to try and poke my eyes out. And the next "game" was putting Mommy's head under the blankie and playing peek-a-boo. I guess she didn't notice the beads of sweat running down my forehead. By the time we landed, I looked as though I had spent the 2 hours in a sauna... hair frizzed out, make-up running down my red-cheeked face, sweaty pits - basically, I could have been a spokes-model for abstinence : ) The best part of the trip was stepping out onto the tarmac and being greeted by 19 degree temperatures. Hallelujah! On my return trip next week, I'm thinking of packing my undergarmets with ice packs. Think I could make it through security? : )