Check out this post at Misplaced Mama. Then spread it around the internet a little. We Mama’s gotta start a little backlash of our own!

Peace soup
A few days ago I made chicken soup. I make damn good chicken soup, one of those feed the body, heal the soul kinda meals. Lotsa garlic, lotsa veggies, lotsa herbs. Yum.

We were eating the first bowls in the mid-afternoon (far too delicious to wait for dinner time) and Bella sighed a sigh of deep contentment and said,

“This soup is making me feel peaceful inside. Peaceful and good. Did you put Peace in this soup when you made it Mommy? Did you put in extra Peace just for me? I feel so happy. I feel like all my badness is leaving me. (Pause for contemplation and insert incredulous gasp). I even feel like playing with Julianna in my room, and sharing, and not being mean. Mommy, we should make this Peace Soup every day.”

And after she finished her third helping of soup, she did indeed lead Julianna down the hall to her room, get out her beloved Fisher Price Little People and play just as sweetly as any mother could dream.

Peace soup indeed.

Fluffy
Yesterday Bella caught sight of my US magazine lying on the table.

[Yes – I read smut, and I enjoy it. I am a celebrity gossip hag, and I love it when my friends donate their old bordering-on-tabloid-but-masquerading-as-legitimate-magazines rags for me to read. I need to hear about Suri and Shiloh, I need to see pictures of how thin Nicole Ritchie is. I like it when celebs are caught looking horrid, or saying something stupid. They don’t even have to be recent – this particular issue was months old. Yes – I am incredibly shallow. It is my own particular preferred form of escapism.]

Anyway, the mag was open to a picture of Pam Anderson in a ridiculously tiny bikini, two tiny triangles straining with all their might to contain that which nature could never / would never have created on its own. At this sight of the bombshell with her boobies bursting forth, Bella’s eyes nearing bugged out of her head,

“Wow Mama – do you think she’s got milk in those nummies? They are PRETTTT-TY fluffy”.

Indeed they are, Bella. Indeed they are.

What did you eat for dinner last night?
In one of my quasi-annual attempts to get organized, and embrace (uncover?) my domestic side, I’ve once again decided that I need to start making a meal plan and cook food for my dear ones on a regular basis. It’s high time I going to strap on an apron, organize my recipe box (do I HAVE a recipe box?) and become better at performing my wifely duties (not THOSE wifely duties, I see where your mind is at right now. I know your type.).

Yada, yada, yada – yeah, right.

So anyway, who cares if my longest (unsuccessful) attempt lasted a mere three nights, I’m an optimist (Sam actually says I’m more delusional than optimistic, but what does he know?). This time, I could actually make it work (and I’ll keep my house spotless and do my makeup every day and never, ever yell at my children either. Oh yes, and I’m giving up the internet).

Okay – so in the spirit of delusional optimism – tell me what you ate for dinner last night. Be honest, if you cracked open a can of Chef-Boy-Ardee for yourself, or gave your kids a bowl of Frosted Flakes topped with mini-marshmallows while you polished off the bottle of Shiraz, you gotta come clean. But if you did have a lovely meal – please do share it, post a recipe, instructions, whatever.

My family will thank you for it.

Do you wanna be my Stacy and Clinton?
I need a stylist, or a personal shopper. My baby brother is getting married on September 30th, and I’m flying home with the girls to attend the wedding (and to play with Jen H and Allisun too – yippee). I need an outfit to wear, which sounds deceptively easy until you hear my list of requirements:

1. Must be able to nurse in it, hopefully at least somewhat discretely
2. Must not be too clingy in tummy/muffin top area, as that section of my body remains stubbornly softer/fluffier (I’d like to pass it off as bloat, but no – it’s baby fat).
3. Must look at least moderately good.
4. Must not cost a fortune.
5. Must involve cool new shoes that look incredible but that allow me to chase two children all day long without developing blisters or collapsing in pain.
6. Must NOT be something that will languish in the depths of my closet forever more, but that will be worn again more than twice before it gets thrown in the box that I always intend to list on Ebay but inevitably end up donating to Goodwill.
7. Must be able to work if the day happens to be sunny, warm and lovely, or wet, cold and yucky (this is end of September in Canada – you just never know).

Can anyone help? Outfits? Stores? Any and all inspiration welcome.

Bella is wearing this skirt and I bought a matching headband, but I still need a shirt (pink? white? what style?) and shoes. Julianna is wearing a dress that matches Bella’s skirt (kinda like this one – the actual dress is not on the Gap site that I can find. It is the same navy/polka dot fabric with a bright pink belt and these pink shoes - so incredib bly cute I can hardly stand to look at her. I figure they can wear little white socks if it is nice, and white tights if it is cold. I guess I need sweaters/jackets for both of them as well.

Why am I getting the idea that this is going to be expensive?

Oh – and I need a cool haircut and a die job to cover up my six month old roots.

Any ideas? Send pictures, websites, inspiration of any kind. I await your sage style council.

Confessions:
I have absolutely adored the responses to my confessions post. I laughed and I was humbled that you were willing to be honest and raw about the things in your own life that often remain unsaid. I feel MUCH better about my own flaws and inadequacies, knowing that you all are just as flawed and inadequate as I am! I’ve got to write an addendum to my post, as reading your confessions have reminded me of about thirty other points I should get out in the open. Thanks for being willing to play along.

Confessions of the not at all rich or famous:

1.
My kitchen floor is often the crunchiest thing about me. I am a filthy pig. Really.

2.
I vacillate between a paralyzing level of insecurity and delusional levels of narcissism.

3.
I often find motherhood to be excruciatingly, mind numbingly, dizzyingly boring.

4.
Some Most days lately I spend more time on my computer than I do in focused and joyful interaction with my children.

5.
I feel that bubble skirts, leggings with skirts and skinny jeans (most especially skinny jeans) are examples of cyclical fashion gone wrong. I don’t much care if this means I have to hand in my fashionista card for good, because I’m fairly certain that if the fashion gods saw me now, they’d revoke it anyway.

6.
I am pathetically easily led; to the extent that I’ll probably end up eventually wearing some watered down, filtered for the benefit of Middle America version of the above and even believe they look good on me. Yuck.

7,
I almost never write thank you notes.

8.
I’ve never met anyone as selfish as me. Seriously.

9.
I’ve been worried lately that people are going to use Bella’s behaviour as an example of why children need to be spanked and I’m about 99% 100% sure that this is all my fault*.

10.
Since giving birth to my second child, I seem to definitely drink far more often than I used to. I feel that alcohol consumption is an excellent response to stress. And I’m not ashamed that I like girly drinks like wine coolers with names like “Mango Passion”. They taste better than your super cool micro-brew. I’d bet my skinny jeans on it.

Now it’s your turn – either in the comments section or at your own blog – I challenge you to come clean with your own Good, Bad and Ugly Confessions. Can’t wait to read them.

*Edited to add:
Just wanted to clarify that I’m not thinking her behaviour is my fault becuase I didn’t spank, nor am I considering spanking….just that I know I have not been the type of parent I want to/need to be for her.

And - I’m loving all your confessions…doesn’t this feel good. Unburdening is good for the soul - I think.:) Keep the truth telling going….You know you’ve got some deep dark secrets you’re dying to share with the universe…

9.02.06
13 months

Well little girl, that month sure zoomed by, didn’t it?

I tell you, Julianna Banana, you just might kill me with cuteness one of these days. I’m serious, I could eat you right up, you are that scrumptious right now. I feel like I’m drowning in irresistible, irrepressible cuteness. You’re so sweet you make my teeth hurt. You are so adorable you make my head spin. You. Are. Cute.

You’ve gone from almost exclusively crawling and cruising to taking your first tentative steps, to venturing across a room Frankenstein style (with your arms straight in front of you) falling every few feet, to now toddling everywhere around the house with your arms dangling by your side, little body wobbling back and forth. You look rather like a cross between a penguin and a gorilla. Have I mentioned that you’re cute?

You’re also quite taken with climbing, and are getting adept at getting down from high places. You’ve gotten so good at this bipedalism thing that at times you forget that crawling is still an option. We were at a mall play place the other day (that necessary evil of Arizona summers) and you got so angry when you were too tall to walk through a tunnel. I had to come and remind you how to get down and crawl through – you had seriously forgotten that that was your only mode of independent motion just a few short weeks ago.

You’ve been so focused on physical endeavors this month that you’ve all but dropped the impressive vocabulary that I listed in your birthday letter. I think you’ve added a few new words, but you’ve been much less talkative overall (that is not so say that you’ve been quiet – as that is certainly not the case). Your Daddy thinks that is because you’ve left the constant stimulation of being with our family in Canada and you’re stuck with just the three of us. This whole nuclear family thing is for the birds I tell you, you thrived being surrounded by that much love and attention.

You’ve learned to say “NNNNNNOOOO!!” with so much sass that we can’t help but cracking up and encouraging it. You’ve got a serious diva attitude going on with that word – and it is so freaking funny. I hear an echo of your spunky sister in that saucy tone, which worries me a little bit. Speaking of Bella - as is quite appropriate for an older sister, she is teaching you things like how not to share, how to yell when someone comes near your favorite toy, and how to scream with anger when you don’t get your own way. You’ve got to love that kind of influence.

There are times, when we are alone together, that I don’t think I could ever get close enough to you. I want to encircle you and absorb you and cocoon you in my heart. You are divine.

I am convinced that there is nothing I could do, no words that exist that could ever truly make you understand just how much I love you. It’s just too huge, too all-encompassing, too much to comprehend. My love for you is this awesome, spiraling, ever-increasing magical force.

You are my heart.

Oh, and have I mentioned that you’re cute?

PS:
It never fails that I think of more I wanted to include after I’ve already posted the letter…

1. Your hair has morphed into this interesting Mohawk-mullet combo. I’m not sure you’ll be setting any toddler trends with this coif – but I do think it has a certain piazaaz.

2. You like to tickle us. You say “ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka” in a sneaky little voice as you wave your hands around and grin with delight.

3. You crave outside time. Now you stand at the door multiple times during the day and say “Ot-doh, Ot-doh” over and over again with increasing frustration. You love to play outside with your sister, climbing on and off your trike and pushing it around, and going in and out of the playhouse over and over and over again. You are going to be so happy when winter comes and you can be outside for hours at end.

4. Your fascination with all things Dora grows right along with your sister’s obsession. You already recognize the theme song and like to stand right next to the TV when Bella puts on her DVD. To think that your sister didn’t even see 5 seconds of TV until she was 2 ½. Ugh.

5. Um. You’re Cute. Yeah Baby.