Tag Archives: holidays

Our DIY Halloween Costume and Humor Roundup

We’re a couple of sensible moms who love Halloween. When you think about it, it’s one of the more relaxing holidays. No big family meals to cook, no presents to wrap, no legends to impersonate (stop trying to make the Great Pumpkin happen, Linus).

Ellen: Pinterest is trying its hardest to up the ante, but you just have to resist. (And in some cases, just resist the awkward.)

Erin: Oh, resist? Like the year you created the zombie wedding to win the Trunk-or-Treat trophy?

It's a nice day for a zombie wedding. Trunk or Treat Ideas. | Halloween costumes | Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

This is what winning look like. Well, at least on Halloween.

Ellen: Hey, that was our elementary school swan song. It was really more about competition in general than getting crazy about Halloween. We have scaled back since then.

Erin: Really? Like the time you brought Pumpkin Spice Lattes you made from SCRATCH to my party?

More pumpkin recipes here.: More pumpkin recipes here.

Ellen: Well, you’re the one who has the annual Halloween Bash.

Erin: Okay, so we both can get a little swept away with the celebrations, but I think we balance it out with the way we drag our feet getting our costumes together.

Ellen: Despite the fact Walmart has been oozing with Halloween since August, I don’t think about my costume until I’m-About-To-Run-Out-Of-Time-End-Of-October.

Erin: Me too, but hey, we always look cute. We’re masters at pulling that mess together at the 11th hour.

Ellen: It doesn’t hurt to have a dress-up closet that looks like this:

DIY Halloween Costume Roundup - Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

It just looks bad because there is a mirror doubling the mess. Yeah. That’s the story I’m going with. By the way, I want to go as a bank robber this year and not one stinkin’ black mask in that disaster.

Erin: Gah. It looks like one of those photos where the dog has torn up the door and the rug and the caption reads “I thought you were gone forever, so I panicked.”

Ellen: Well, it was Spirit Week for my high schooler and she did panic every day with the chore of dressing for the theme. In fact, one day her class had to dress up like Toy Story characters. She put her own spin on Hamm: dime adorned bow tie, tutu, duct tape piggy bank slot, and Converse.

Ellen: Only problem was, we did not have pig ears and could not even find them in the store. There were zebra, giraffe, cat, puppy, bunny, cow, tiger, lion, cheetah, and elephant ears. But NO pig. However, we had pink bunny ears so I performed a bit of Halloween origami magic.

Erin: I do love me some ingenuity sprinkled over my procrastination. Behold what Steve and I came up with last year. Indiana Jones and Soccer Girl.

Ellen: I must have missed that movie. Are you sure ingenious is the word you’re looking for? You picked some soccer stuff up off of your floor and Steve threw on a leather coat. Maybe lazy fits this better?

Erin: I’ll take ingenious off the table, but I reject lazy. I’ll settle for brilliantly easy. And maybe you should dress up like a Stone Thrower because it’s not like you and Frank coordinate.

Ellen: Not true! There was that one year where I was a werewolf and he was the full moon. I might have just finished the Twilight Trilogy.

Erin: Okay, I’m mildly flummoxed with the adorableness, BUT yours is store-bought and his is just a t-shirt. I expected him to be a papier-mâché sphere or at least have a tinfoil satellite orbiting his head. Or give me some hipster cleverness. He should be wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Ellen: I’ll have you know, I designed the t-shirt on Zazzle. And Look at the milkmaid brimming with ideas. You didn’t make this costume either.

Erin: No, my sister-in-law gave me this as part of my Christmas present one year and it has been the gift that keeps on giving. Some might say I’ve been milking it.

Ellen: Ba-da-bum. So sexy. But if you want creative, I’ve got your creative. Frank was a blind referee. Get it? A little duct tape for the stripes, the wooden dowel from the zombie wedding for the cane, and the bear whistle from camping plus my sunglasses from my Lasik surgery, and he had a clever costume.

Ellen: And just to double dose you with the Williams’ creative “BOOM!”, here is the ultimate Pinterest costume: PINTEREST!

Erin: Well, I got my own “BOOM!” I’m bringing the sexy so hard this Halloween that Toulouse and Tonic included me in her Sexy Costume Round-Up for Moms.

Toulouse and Tonic DIY Sexy Halloween Costumes for Moms with Erin from Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

There’s more where this came from here.

Ellen: Well, well. Good for you! Those costumes are hilarious. But we need a judgement call here on who is the winner between us. You may be bringing sexy back, but I have minions AND duck lips.

Erin: I have an observation. You may say you find Halloween relaxing, but I think it just might be the most competitive of holidays for you.

Ellen: I’m glad you brought that up. Do you think you could have trophies for best costume at your party this year?

Happy Halloween!

DIY Costumes, #Recipes, and #Humor Roundup. This will make your #Halloween!

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The Little Things That Are Really Big Things

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When I was a new teacher, I had a professor who slashed grades with the enthusiasm of a Wal-Mart employee on markdown day. Her pet peeve: referring to our students by their diagnosis. If we forgot and referred to an “autistic student” or “an LD kid,” she would punish us with her weapon of choice: the red pen. I may have grumbled at her vehemence, but it did the trick. My students were forever forth children with dyslexia, children with emotional disturbances, children with autism. They were individuals first and foremost, never the sum of their disabilities.

It was a simple, subtle shift that made the difference for me as a teacher and I took that with me as I worked with families, advocated for students, and partnered with schools. I often had to lobby for big changes, profound commitments, and systemic, institutional shifts, especially in times of crisis. But I always honored that it’s the subtle nuances that turn the ship around, the moments of grace that beget small miracles. The story I am going to tell is one of those.

My neighbor Dylon is a teen with autism. He is also obsessed with telephone poles. He knows every type of utility pole, their crossarms, their type of resistors, what utility companies work where. If he were on a car trip, he could point out which company services which area from Patapsco to Constellation all the way from Maryland to Florida. It’s safe to say that power poles are kind of his thing.

His dad Ron knows this: “When we are driving down any street, he will notice a new pole and he will whip his head around like he just saw Santa in a sleigh.” Yeah, we’ve got Minecraft, LEGO, and One Direction going on here, we get the obsessions. But while every kid can have a bit of a one track mind, it is a whole different ballgame in autism.

Autism brings other challenges as well. When Ron asks Dylon what he wants for Christmas or his birthday, Dylon will just repeat what he has gotten in the past. No original thoughts. No lengthy lists. No last minute addendums or post-scripts.

So the family has to get creative. Last year, Ron noticed some new utility poles going up in South Jersey, the biggest he had ever seen, so he drove the whole family up there as a surprise for Dylon. The picture of their three kids sitting on that utility pole was their Christmas card that year.

This year, Ron wanted to score some Delmarva Power gear for a Christmas present for Dylon. He had tried unsuccessfully a year ago to visit the plant itself. The PR person there said there was no program for a tour like that even though they really just wanted ten minutes to look around. Ron thought his idea this year was so much simpler–a pen, a mug, a coaster, anything–and he just knew how much Dylon would love it, so he started emailing people. He received no response. Like not a single one.

So he decided to hit the pavement and make a visit or three. Every stop had the same pattern. Ron would usually meet a perfectly nice customer service rep who would refer him to a supervisor who would promptly dismiss him and show him on his way. Empty-handed. No premium items. Nada. Nothing. Each stop. Same story.

At the third location, things looked like they were shaping up to go the same way as before. But this time was different. There was a subtle change. This ship was turning around. This time the customer service rep didn’t bother looking for a supervisor. This woman listened to Ron tell his story of what he wanted for his son for Christmas and then promptly walked away.

But she came back quickly with a canvas bag with the company logo on it and started filling it up . . . with items from her workspace. Pens, desk items, notepads—any number of fully emblazoned ephemera made its way into the bag. This was a small miracle in and of itself, but then her neighboring coworker saw what was happening and started emptying out her desk area too. The bag was getting mighty big.

But it’s the little things. In the midst of all this generosity, the co-worker added a die-cast lift power truck replica that had been sitting on her desk for years. Who knows why she added it in with all the other items, but she did. Maybe she was moved by Ron’s determination, maybe she was touched by the Christmas spirit, or maybe she had her own obsessed kid at home and she really was able to see Dylon as just any other kid. Maybe, but it doesn’t really matter. Dylon carries that truck up to bed every night and back downstairs every morning.

This month is Autism Awareness Month. 1 in 68 children has an autism diagnosis. We are all shooting for the big goal of course: no more autism, but this year maybe we shoot for something else as well. Maybe we keep our eyes open to the dads trying to do something special for their kid, maybe we support the families living with autism every day, maybe we see the kids first and their diagnoses second. I believe in the power of red pens, die-cast trucks, and open hearts to change the world. I hope you do too.

–Erin

Be the Change You Want to See in the World.

-Gandhi

*I wrote two other posts about Dylon and his family here and here.

It’s the little things. We believe in the power of red pens and die-cast trucks to change the…

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7 Ways March Punks Us

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March is the queen of the two-faced mean girls. “In like a lion, out like a lamb” is just an obtuse way of saying March will toy with you for thirty-one days.

Erin: Every day in March can feel like an episode of Punk’d. But this year, I heaped an extra helping of hot mess onto the already stinking pile March has been handing us.

Ellen: I just want to point out that we had a snow day St. Patrick’s Day combo. The snow must end. I cry uncle, March.

Erin: Well, I’m crying in my green beer too after my tale of March madness.

Every year Steve’s family has a St. Patrick’s Day party in Baltimore. Traditionally, the party was at Steve’s grandmom’s house in Canton, a stone’s throw from The Inner Harbor. However, for the past few years, it moved about a half hour north to the ‘burbs to accommodate the ever-expanding family.

When it came time to load up the crew and our loaves of Irish soda bread, I kept replaying a conversation with Steve’s mom in my head in which she said that Steve’s grandmom was ready to host again. To me, this meant one thing: we were heading to Canton.

Grandmom’s house is smack dab in the middle of a robust bar scene so we had to circle the block a gazillion or two times to find a parking space. It was St. Patrick’s Day weekend after all. We did text the family to let them know we were going to be a few minutes late so they would have no worries as they partied it up. We may be chronically tardy, but we’re considerate. Finally, we found one honey of a spot . . . only three blocks from her house.

To pass the time dodging revelers, Steve narrated a brief family history on our walk over. Upon arrival, our 15-year-old daughter ran up the front stoop and turned to Steve, “Do I ring the bell or knock?”

Steve said, “Just walk in. It’s a party.”

After a rattle of the knob, she turned back and said, “It’s locked.”

"In like a lion, out like a lamb" is just an obtuse way of saying March will toy with you for thirty-one days. Here are 7 ways March punks us every time. | Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

My people post-punking

Ellen: Waa, waaaaa.

Erin: At this point, I wished I had actually read the party email in full.

Ellen: I wish I could act surprised that some details slipped past you.

Erin: Well things got ever more slapstick when Steve’s family decided to embrace their inner evil Leprachauns. When we sent them that text, nobody sent up a flare to indicate we were hell and gone from Party Central. In fact, it wasn’t until Steve called from the front stoop that anybody clued us in, but they did revel in our stupidity.

"In like a lion, out like a lamb" is just an obtuse way of saying March will toy with you for thirty-one days. Here are 7 ways March punks us every time. | Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms

Erin: The immediate aftermath with my crew went something like this:

16yo son: “At least you still have your looks.”

15yo daughter: Epic eye roll they might have been able to feel from the ACTUAL party location.

13yo son: “When we FINALLY get to the party, will there be any food food left?”

11yo son: <nervous laughter>

6yo son: I’m HUNGRY!

My husband was gratefully good-natured about the mix-up.

Ellen: I love Steve. That man deserves all of the gold in Ireland.

Erin: I know. We loaded up the crew again with minimal family drama, but with a thick overlay of mom-mocking. What’s an hour detour amongst family? In moments, we hightailed it on the highway to the ACTUAL party in the suburbs where everyone was getting their green on and making general merriment of the raucous family holiday type. And making fun of us.

The pretty pictures you take after you make it to the party!

Ellen: Ah, they loved you even more for providing such great entertainment. As an aside and to make this more about me, it feels kind of good that an Erin punking took place where I wasn’t the recipient. But it seems kind of wrong you’re blaming this on March.

Erin: Well, March isn’t blameless. Maybe if it wasn’t tripping me up at every turn, I could have focused on the invitation. Perhaps it was my fault my family played a rousing game of “Find the Party,” but March is still totally to blame for these shenanigans.

1) Chores Multiply Exponentially

March piles on the work. Now in addition to the massive amount of spring cleaning inside, it’s time to cut back the bushes and clear the detritus from the flowerbeds outside too. We could probably hear March maniacally laughing, but in this thirty degree weather we’re wearing earmuffs to pull weeds. Probably best to just leave it for the kids to do during summer break anyway.

2) Schizoid Wardrobe

Oh March, you are one wild and crazy girl! One day we have to pile on the sweaters and the next we’re looking for a tank top. And footwear? Fuggedaboutit! Can you please just let us pack away the snow pants and mittens? We call mercy!

3) Hokey Holidays

St. Paddy’s Day? Who is this holiday really for? Preschoolers and college kids, that’s who. If you’re not making glittered shamrocks or toasting with whiskey and green beer, what’s really the point? Pinterest has shizzed all over this holiday too. Rainbow waffles, anyone? Back away from the computer. Besides, true Irish girls drink whiskey every day of the year. Or so we’ve heard.

4) Calendar Clustermuck

Winter sports are not over and spring sports have already begun. Have you seen our complicated calendars?? You’re hitting us where it hurts, March. We are not happy and we’re taking names.

5) Daylight Savings Time Blues

Our more seasoned internal clocks don’t spring forward like they used to. We can’t fall asleep an hour early that first night, and it’s all downhill from there. By the end of the week, we’re the crazy ladies in the supermarket talking to our tomatoes. And our kids? Shudder.

6) Confused Cart

When you have de-icer and grass seed snuggled together in your cart, even the clerk at Home Depot knows you’ve got problems.

7) The Dreadmill

Running on a treadmill in a gym is about as fun as . . . well, as fun as being jerked around by March and her fickle, fickle ways.

Did we also mention we’re cold? Summer is our time to shine. Bring on the flip-flops, please. Or, at the very least, lose the freezing temps.

But it’s not all moaning and groaning, there is one thing we both LOVE about March:

The real March Madness

The drama, the brackets, the Cinderella stories, we love it all!

Spring has to be just around the corner, right?

Please don’t fool us, April.

-Erin and Ellen

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10 Love Songs For Valentine’s Day

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The Countdown is on, people! One week until Valentine’s Day! Time for the collective push back at the commercial juggernaut Hallmark has built. Boo to over-priced cards, short-lived flowers, tushy-padding candies and dust-collecting, bedbug-colonizing bears.

We’ll celebrate our love the old-fashioned way . . . with a mixed tape. Of course, we know that mixed tapes have gone the way of the dodo and New Coke. It’s just that when Ellen and I got together with our guys, we still called playlists “mixed tapes”.

This list is a deeply personal one. Think of it as a love story, my love story, told in song. Of course, each and every song is a much better choice than a lot of what’s offered up on lists like this one.

1. “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra

The song that quite literally started our whole romance. Back in the day, a newfangled contraption arrived on campus called voicemail. Steve and I had started hanging out the fall of my senior year, but we weren’t really dating yet. We were both going to our school’s annual Screw Your Roommate dance though, and we planned on trying to sneak in a dance. Unfortunately, this SYR dance had about as much drama on the floor as you might expect. Long story short: our dance never happened. Sweet Steve sent me this song to my brand-spanking new voicemail with a fun message about dancing to it later. I was a goner, ladies. A total goner.

2. “Romeo and Juliet” by Indigo Girls

So the Indigo Girls were kind of a thing when we were in college, and this particular song played on a loop during my senior year AKA the Heady-Crazy-About-Each-Other phase. The soaring vocals, the raw emotion, the energy. It was and still is the epitome of young, earnest love.

3. “Home” by Bonnie Raitt

While not a huge country music fan in general, Bonnie Raitt and the Dixie Chicks bridge the Great Divide for me. This one captures so clearly that moment when I realized that I was right where I was supposed to be. This Guy. This Moment. The Future I was starting to imagine for us.

4. “Slow Dancing” by Bono

Is it enough to just say Bono? It should be. This is a special song for us. Hell, it should be for everyone. Try NOT to dance with your sweetheart to this one.

5. “At Last” by Etta James

This song was worn out for all the playtime I gave it in the months leading up to my wedding. Old songs sung by beautiful, strong voices hit every right note for me. Whenever I hear this one, I’m 23 again. I can’t promise time travel when you hear it, but anybody who has found THAT somebody will get why this song can still move me to tears.

6. “You and I” Ingrid Michaelson

Even though I just found this song recently, it captures young love’s optimism and wild imagining so well I had to include it. It hints at that friendship and camaraderie that lies at the heart of many relationships, but especially mine.

7. The Beatles “In My Life”

This one isn’t just for Steve but for our whole little kingdom. It was playing on our CD player when I came home from the hospital with my first baby. In my life, I’ve loved them all, these people, my little clan. More than they will ever know.

8. “Hey, Stephen” by Taylor Swift

When my daughter was a tween, we both fell in love with Taylor Swift. One day in the car we heard this song. From the front, I shouted over my shoulder, “This is my song for Daddy!” I don’t know what it says about the brain trust I’m raising that not a single child questioned how it could be our song when Taylor had just written it and clearly we had been around the block a couple times before that. Nevertheless, it is a love song for a boy named Stephen, and I’ve got me one of those.

9. “Come Away With Me” by Nora Jones

As of next week, we will tip the scales and teens will outnumber us. While not a terrifying realization, it is a sobering one. We already play this song often, plot our getaways, and exchange meaningful glances over school projects and dirty dishes. This is the rolled-up sleeves, deep-in-the-trenches stage of parenting for us, but Nora takes us to that beautiful place we want to get back to together.

10. “Grow Old Along With Me” by Mary Chapin Carpenter

This song always gives me a catch in the throat when I remember that John Lennon not only never really got to record this song properly before he was killed, he never grew old with his sweetheart. God bless our love and all those like it that we all get our second acts, our quiet folding into old age together.

Feel free to add your own love song to the list!

-Erin

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9 Reasons to Embrace That Five(ish) Extra Pounds of Fluffiness

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You know what’s easier than making resolutions? Well, technically resolutions are fairly simple to make, it’s the keeping of them that gets thorny. But anyway, looking on the “plus side” of what you’ve got is MUCH easier than that whole goal making/self-improvement hoohaa. By the way, “plus side.” Get it? Because we’re ~~spin doctoring~~ talking about extra weight? Laughter is the best medicine, People, get on board.

So while we’re squeezing into our 2013 jeans because of holiday confectionery-bacon-whiskey-sour-slushy-roast-beast gluttony, we give you nine reasons we think it’s great to be a little fluffier.

1. You have no fear of ice! When you fall on your butt, you’ll bounce like a Bumble instead of cracking that tailbone. Even if you aren’t a klutz, a little extra cushion always comes in handy when you’re logging those hours on Candy Crush.

2. Subzero temps don’t put a chill in your heart! You’ll be content as a polar bear with your extra insulation as you fire up the minivan for morning carpool. While others are saying, “Brrrrr,” you’ll be proclaiming, “Brrrring it!”

3. Extra poundage adds extra rad to your rack! Know what we mean, Ladies? Bonus: you have a little more capacity in your Cleavage Crumb Catcher. Comes in handy when devouring those stale Christmas cookies in the pantry because it hides the evidence from prying little eyes.

4. Your problem with missing clothes is over! Your teenage daughter certainly didn’t “borrow” the pants you’re going to wear today. Nobody wants the fat jeans. Waa waaaa.

5. No more fighting with Grandma! One look at the junk in your trunk and she’ll stop pushing that last piece of pie on you.

6. Your fear of heights is a moot point! You’ll always get to be the bottom of that team-building pyramid.

7. You’ll get more bang for your buck! No longer will your spouse feel like the “All-You-Can-Eat” buffet is wasted money on you.

8. Your sense of accomplishment in the everyday is renewed! Successfully bending over to tug on those Uggs is celebration worthy. And actually tying shoes? Get outta here! Treat yourself to that leftover fruitcake cluttering your counter.

9. People won’t bug you about your New Year’s Resolutions! They already know. Oh, yes, they already know.

Ellen and Erin

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10 Great Things to Remember About 2013

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With the dawning of 2014, we realize once again just how quickly time flies when you are riding the jet plane of fun known as parenthood. Looking in the rear view mirror, we are gratified that much of it was more than good, it was great. But lest we forget, we are recording for Auld Lang Syne:

1. We Partied Like Rock Stars

Well, that might be overstating it a bit, but we did have a darn good time every time we got together. Whether we were climbing mountains, kayaking down rivers, or squiring our girls to the theater, we really did know how to get our fun on. And we can throw a party like nobody’s business. But, we just miiiiiight be over baby showers at this point. Don’t hold it against us.

Taste Testers

But it wasn’t all fun and games. . .

2. We Gained Some Perspective

Blogging really does encourage us to slow down and appreciate our kids, ourselves, and our friends. Whether we were learning from the mouths of babes after a neighborhood fire, watching teens helping a friend with autism, or realizing that this whole Mom gig works much better when you rustle up a posse, we expanded our points of view. This helped us greatly come to grips with some of the thornier aspects of our lives.

3. We Called a Truce

We have a love/hate relationship with kids’ sports. We love the exercise and discipline, but we kinda hate the driving and the sideline politics. A fresh outlook gave us just the attitude adjustment needed to bury the hatchet with organized sports after some small travel team fiascoes. We were able to focus on all the positive things sports bring into our lives.

That's right, baby! A healthy diet of soccer's gonna make you a star!

Penalty! Illegal use of hands . . . and gums.

4. We Were Published!

We were so excited to be a part of the anthology, You Have Lipstick on Your Teeth. We got the thrill of seeing our names in print–in a for real book–and scored the cyber honor of our own Amazon authors’ pages. Here is Ellen’s and here is Erin’s. But what really made our hearts happy was meeting many of our co-authors and even going to our very first book signing! And then there was a second book signing! With cupcakes.

Want to know about the penguin? Come to a book signing.

Beware the penguin. Respect The Sisterhood.

5. We Were a BlogHer Humor Voice of the Year!

We were beyond stoked when were chosen as a BlogHer Humor Voice of the Year for The Sensible Sisterhood Summer Camp. We just felt acknowledged. We even made a video so everyone could recognize us. (Good thing we had name tags.)

Imagine our level of metaphorical apoplexy when we ended up within teacup toasting distance with the Queen . . . Queen Latifah, that is. Our takeaway from the conference? Bloggers need to stop giving the blog juice away for free.

6. We skirmished in the Mommy Wars–Sort of

Judging women’s adequate appreciation of motherhood is a plague upon the internet. But instead of choosing sides, we picked humor because, well, to quote our own piece: “Kids can be narcissistic Napoleonic assholes.” We might not have been as playful when Ellen took a writer and mother to task for “pinkwashing” Harry Potter. Let’s all just be sensible, m’kay?

7. We Read A Ton!

Almost nothing brings us as much joy as a good book. Our families, Cheez-its, and Sour Patch Kids are pretty great too, but books, well, we girls have no words. Who are we kidding? We’re nothing if not verbose and here are all of the book lists we made to prove it:

5 Books We are Thankful For

5 Books For the Carpool Line

Better Books for the Botttom of Your Beach Bag

Mo’ Better Books for the Bottom of Your Beach Bag

10 Books for Your Teens and Tweens Summer Reading List

More Summer Books for your Tweens

Books by Our Blogger Friends

10 Books for Your Summer Reading List

8. We Discovered Blogging is Better by the Pool

This was the year Ellen’s family put in a pool. They saved and they planned ahead and it should have been been completed by the beginning of May. Should have been. Mother Nature didn’t understand that we wanted our water fun with a side of sun, NOT in the form of endless rain. (Are you now singing Purple Rain in your head? No? You are now.)

Track the progress from us trying to pass off the excavation as a “fun summer camp activity” to the “Ghetto Chic Stage” it was forever stuck in, to the big reveal. It even served as our blogging office. Bring a cooler full of drinks and food and Ellen might even unlock the gate for you.

9. We Sent Up a Flare For the Teen Years

By February, we will have five teenagers between the two of us. Before you start passing around a collection plate to pay for our Sour Patch Kids and chocolate therapy, listen to this: it’s not so bad on this side of the border. Sure, teens can remind you an awful lot of their tyrant two year old selves (it’s amazing how much they are alike). But they can also be sweet and funny and generous when they let their true spirits seep out from under the cloud of Axe and angst they tote around. And yes, the teen years can be scary, but we believe firmly that duct tape, kisses, and prayers really do help.

10. We Got By With a Little Help From Our Friends

We had fantastic fun imagining how great our lives would be if we could just rent a Sister Wife. Actually that is not entirely true because we know the joys of Sisterly help. Don’t go signing us up for a reality show (unless of course, you have actual connections because we have some ideas for you). We’re talking about the all mom/all kid Big Love Camping Trip we take every year with our three other friends. No really, it’s fun.

Our Sisterhood is what it’s all about.

We also doled out some helpful advice. We don’t do this from a pedestal of judgment, but rather from the trenches in the spirit of “We Step in the Doo So You Don’t Have To.” We gave helicopter parents, hand-wringing parents of adolescents , and perfect toddler parents a nudge to the ribs because we believe we’re all in this parenting thing together and we all can learn and lean on one another.

But one of our greatest joys was meeting the friends inside of our computer. Lines were blurred and blogging friends became real life friends. True friends, no matter where they live, make life more rich and joyous.

Here’s to another great year full of friendship, love, and good enough parenting!

(Ellen promises not to toast you with this monstrosity.)

Terrifying Ghost of New Year’s Eve Past

-Ellen and Erin

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Christmas Pintershizz: The Final Countdown

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Sing it with us! “It’s the most wonderful time of the year . . .” Hmmm, let’s not. How about we up the reality on this bad boy season and all download The Final Countdown?

Ellen: Is it crazy that I’m stewing in jealousy because my Jewish friends checked off their holidays in one epic swoop this year: Thanksgivukah? Sure it was a swirling dervish of exhausting festiveness at the time, but now they are done: D-O-N-E done.

Erin: Your spirit must be crushed to be envious of two holidays smashed together. Pushed up against the Shutterfly deadline again?

Ellen: Is it that obvious? I thought squeaking in under their free shipping cutoff was going to be the end of me . . . AGAIN.

Erin: We always poo poo pissin’ contests, BUT I have you beat. I am fighting the machine of the ACTUAL Shutterfly deadline. Like no-money-in-the-world-can-get-you-your-book if you miss this deadline.

Ellen: And the last day to order on most other sites is drawing near. I always feel carefree about shopping when the internet is my safety net . . .

Erin: Until BAM! That safety net is ripped away like Santa scratching your name off of the Nice List.

Ellen: Amazon Prime has lessened my stress considerably, but really, I think it may have exacerbated my procrastinating tendencies. You can’t wrap what you don’t have. I’m predicting my traditional Christmas Eve date with Scotch Tape and Pinot Noir in the unfinished side of my basement will be a “go” again this year.

Erin: I hate to burst your miniscule bubble of holiday cheer, but in a couple of days even Amazon Prime won’t be able to save you because there is no “Bend the Time Space Continuum” shipping option. You’ll have to resort to going into actual stores if you don’t pull yourself together.

Ellen: I feel myself shutting down. So what better way to cope than to avoid my Christmas list altogether and just make fun of stuff on Pinterest?

Erin: I’ll jump on your Procrastination Train! Its Caboose of Denial looks comfy. The stewards to stroke my hair and make shushing noises is a nice touch. Besides, I’m counting on elves this year to save me.

Ten Things Pintershit That Better Not Be Under Our Trees

Erin’s List

1. Godfather Gone Wrong

I love the classic movie “The Godfather”, but this pillowcase is taking fandom a bit too far and a little over the top. Fake gore on your pillow just seems so wrong. Plus it would be hard to explain to the six year old.

2. Handbag From Hades

I like a great bag as much as the next girl, but this one is only appropriate for your next party down by the River Styx. I feel like I would need to pack some extra biscuits in it for Cerberus, but it hardly seems big enough for the reed pipe I’d need to lull him to sleep. Save this little beauty for another day or another girl who doesn’t know her mythology like I do. Or for someone you don’t like.

3. Sucker!

My 13 year old’s classmate brought these to school for a birthday treat. Look closely. That’s right—there are scorpions, real scorpions– imbedded in these bad boys. Supposedly, some of the kids LOVED them. I don’t care if they are prepackaged and gluten-free, I can’t get over that scorpions are venomous creatures. I just shuddered. I repeat, “DO NOT buy this for me.” Unless you want an Erin-sized hole in your front door as I run screaming for my life.

4. Just Because You Can Doesn’t Mean You Should

This gives new meaning to the phrase “My dogs are tired.” Why would you make shoes like this?

Ellen: I don’t know, but your octogenarian catchphrases delight me every. single. time. They’re the bee’s knees.

Erin: There is no shame in being well read . . . and I can crash a bridge game like a boss.

Ellen: I have to agree, that is a skill that could come in mighty handy, as handy as hip pockets on a hog.

Erin: Now you’re just mocking me.

5. Sweater With a Side of Surgical Mask

There’s almost nothing I love more than turtlenecks and sweaters during the cold winter months; so I would normally welcome a gift like this. There is just something clinical about the weird way you’re supposed to wear it over your face. It says, “I take my fashion with a side of Ebola virus.” This would make Christmas dinner at the family homestead awkward, especially since I would have to consume my entire meal through a straw. Ham and potato smoothie, yuuummmmm.

Ellen’s List

6. Wonky Wookie

I like Stars Wars as much as the next person, but this is a little much. Dressing like Chewbacca would just make me feel like I forgot to wax. Don’t tell me it’s for Halloween because I already have a bevy of Hallo-Awkward-Ween choices lined up for next year.

But on second thought, if I wore this, could I get away with just wookie roaring at everyone? Hmmmm . . . or rather Arrrarroowwrrerr.

By the way, special thanks to infolinks for taking my query — “How to write Chewbacca sounds?” — as seriously as I take my writing. I got THE right information for THE right decision, yo. Integrity.

7. Christmas No

Don’t think that just because this sweater embraces more of a yuletide theme that it is appropriate. Just to be clear, this does not give me the warm and fuzzies. It gives me visions of Labradors peeing on my feet. You, know, because I would be a tree.

8. Heck No

Wellllllllllll, I think there is something obviously and freudian-ly amiss with a monstrous shark emerging from a crotch. But really, I don’t care to hate on Ariel or cause little wanna-be princesses angst; let alone inflict my daughters with that much mortification. Who, aside from a Victoria Secret model, can stand that much groin gawking during a simple day at the beach? Although . . . this would be hilarious on a Disney cruise, right? Mwahahahaha.

9. The Gift That Keeps On Drowning

Now that I have a complex about sharks eating mermaids, I would just consider this gift a blatant and aggressive threat on my well-being. Can you actually imagine swimming, I mean, not drowning in this??

But it does provide a nice set-up for the gift of laughter. What do you call a muffin top squeezed up by a mermaid tail? A tuna roll! I’m here all week, folks.

10. Just Take A Baseball Bat To My Knee

My knee is always just one twitch away from needing an MRI. Disability can even stalk me while walking in a straight line on level ground. These shoes would just seal the deal in a slow and tortuous way. Who am I kidding? It would be fast and epic. Regardless, the spikes would make it hard for you to remove my shoe from your arse when I shoved it there for giving me such an awful gift.

However if you insist on giving me that shoe, you know, for my own fashion good, then you’d better gift it with this AT-AT Walker walker. This is a Star Wars gift I can get behind. But now you’re confused, you say? I just dissed Chewbacca and now I’m embracing this? It’s really very simple. You just have to be discerning . . . and read my mind.

Here’s wishing that all your shipping deadlines are soft, your cards get sent out before President’s Day, and no one dumps Pintershizz under your tree!

xoxo

Ellen and Erin

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5 Gifts That Keep on Giving

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Just a little heads up: Christmas is a week away which means, boys and girls, that it’s go time! We know you might be rocking in a corner somewhere or railing against the gods of timesuck that you have more things on your to-do list than time to do it, but we’re here to help. While we can’t stuff your stockings, hang your baubles, or roast your beast, we can share some things that have helped us find the happy sweet underbelly of Christmas in the midst of the madness. Think of it as the cookie before the main course. What? Cookies don’t come first? We’ll never tell.

We’re gonna keep this short and simple, folks, because quite frankly, who’s got the time, but here are:

1) The Gift of Experience

We both believe that experiences trump things. To that end, over the years, we have given concert tickets, special trips, museum visits, and special lessons. We could say that the memories from those special moments were as much a gift to us as to our kids. But spending special time with their awesome moms is the ultimate gift for our kiddos AND they usually end up with a souvenir AND we end up with great pictures! Consider this idea a win-win-win!

The lads and Ellen had a brilliant Christmas.

The lads and Ellen AND her kids had a brilliant Christmas.

2) The Gift of Tradition and Time Together

Never underestimate the power of unplugging. Erin’s family kicks it old school with a new puzzle every year. After they work as a family to put it together, then they mount it, and use it for a Christmas decoration the following year. A foolproof plan for fun and festive flair!

We both also give games. Sure, one might argue that our deeply rooted competitive natures might be at the heart of this one, but we offer this counter-argument. The Great Scrabble Rout of 2007? The Epic Camel Slaughter in Parcheesi? The time the four year old won the UNO tournament? These memories all rival any trip we have ever taken in the annals of family fun. So bottom line, you can think what you want. And if you are coming over this Christmas, be prepared to pick a card.

3) The Gift of Memory

Each year we both work our Shutterfly accounts like a boss to create calendars with pictures from the past year to guide us through the new one. We also both make family yearbooks. Because we started blogging in 2011, Erin is a little behind so her family is getting the 2011 yearbook this Christmas. Resist the urge to point out that we are now in the fleeting days of 2013. She knows. She KNOWS!

4) The Gift of Acknowledgment

Every year Erin’s kids pick someone who has been an angel to their family. Then they give a plate of cookies and an angel ornament to that person. The conversation as they decide who to pick each year is a gift to them all as they realize how many wonderful people they have in their life.

5) The Gift of Each Other

As a general rule, the best gifts don’t actually fit in a box or bag. When Erin’s kids were young, they spontaneously created a play one Christmas Eve. Even as the kids have crossed over into Planet Teen, they have never given up creating a special performance for that night. It is, without question, the best gift Steve and Erin get all year and they are really hoping that one of the videos from these performances will hit it big on Youtube. Then it can keep on giving all the way to the Ivy League. How’s that for a Christmas wish?

But that’s not all.

Our trees are trimmed to the nines with handprints, school pictures, and handicrafts of all skill levels. Our schedules are crammed with band concerts and Christmas plays and choral recitals. Our houses are full of trays of cookies, homemade decorations, and gingerbread houses.

Apparently when boys outgrow gingerbread houses, they get creative and start crafting things on their own. Like the TARDIS from DOCTOR Who.

We know that this is the good stuff. So we clean up the glitter glue and the paper confetti on the floor, work our crockpots to the max to get dinner to the masses before each performance, and buy more cookie sheets to keep our little cookie sweat shops cranking. The big wide world will be taking these kids soon enough.

For now, we will just take a deep breath, enjoy the chaos, and be grateful for our gifts.

And if none of this helps, we have found that nothing will help you get your holiday spirit on like a reluctant angel.

A merry, merry last week of Christmas!

Erin and Ellen

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A Gazillion Easy Steps To Finding Holiday Exercise Time

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In addition to being sensible and funny, we really do try to be authentic around here. So after we wrote our post about keeping a time diary to find a magic hour to ~~indulge in~~ seek out stress relief, I did just that. I easily found my hour in the morning to get my exercise groove on, right after unloading the dishwasher and BEFORE being sucked into social media.

Let me share so that you too can make time to exercise, if that is your pathway to Holiday Zen like it is for me. Rest easy because finding the time is as easy as reciting the alphabet.

A. Wake up determined that THIS is the day you will jump back into the exercise rodeo ring due to a dream you had about your stomach paunch being bigger than Robert De Niro’s. (This is 100% true. How could I make this up? There may have been a couple or fifty cats in the dream too. Feel free to leave your dream analysis in the comments.)

B. Ignore the box of mantle decorations that is STILL sitting in the middle of the family room. Maybe if you wait one more hour, elves will put them up. Vacuum up the tree needles, though, in preparation for your post-workout stretch.

C. Turn the Facebook notifications off on your phone and lace up those shoes (after you spend 10 minutes looking for them.)

D. Go down to the basement to unfold the “Easy Fold” treadmill.

E. Attempt to unfold again.

F. Complain about the situation on Facebook, but feel proud because you only spent 20 extra minutes online. Besides, you found this hilarious pair of pedicure booties. Totally worth it.

G. Actually read the simple instructions on the label plastered at eye level on the treadmill.

H. Attempt to unfold again.

I. Kick the bejeezus out of the release bar because you’re pretty sure that is what the label implied for you to do.

J. Say forget it, you’ll just run outside because you like that better anyway.

K. Step into garage and remember it’s 30 degrees out with ice and snow.

L. Grab the rubber mallet instead.

M. Return downstairs and repeatedly whack release bar until realizing you have reached Handygal Level: Hypocrite. You would be all over your husband like cat hair on black pants for doing this.

N. Thought passes through your mind that maybe all of these trips up and down the steps count as your foray back into exercise.

O. Be strong and decide it would be quicker to use the ~~clothes rack~~ exercise bike in your bedroom instead since you have already used up your “magic hour.”

P. Start a load of laundry from what was found on and around the bike. Fold the clothes in the dryer. Stupid elves ignored this job too.

Q. Sit your fanny on the bike seat for 0.09 nanoseconds before the doorbell rings because the contractor is one hour early. WTH? Early?

R. Trudge around with him outside.

S. Feel re-energized by the sunshine and crisp air and resolve to beat the treadmill.

T. Snatch a wrench from the garage and storm down the stairs with renewed purpose to confront your nemesis.

U. Remove the @#$^*#& release bar and receive the full weight of the treadmill deck on your shoulders.

V. Acknowledge that you will indeed need a bladder support surgery by your 5th decade as you ever so gently lower the deck to the floor.

W. Realize you are starving because you had planned to exercise 2.5 hours ago.

X. Run upstairs to grab a vegetarian breakfast sandwich with a cookie chaser because, hey, you’re going to work out.

Y. Decide to write a blog post while you eat because the world deserves to join you in your journey.

Z. Return to the treadmill and attempt to turn on the TV, but there’s no signal. Spend minutes checking cables, but draw the line at calling DirectTV because dammit, you are going to run.

AA. Chest bump your reflection in the full length mirror you regret installing because the alphabet cannot contain you.

AB. Run! Rejoice that you avoid a face plant since you apparently forgot how to tie your shoelaces during your looooong break from running. Avoid celebrating with nachos.

AC. Be kind to yourself for your 15:32 minute mile because dang it, you have remembered that running does indeed create your happy space. Savor your stretch on your needle-free carpet.

AD. Realize that you don’t have time to shower before school pick-up, but try like hell to get those mantle decorations up. (Damn elves can’t be relied on for anything.) There is no way you and your glutes are managing a stepladder tomorrow.

AE. Promise yourself you will only repeat Step AB – AC tomorrow . . . in less than 6 hours.

Tada! Magic hour easily found and realized!

As easy as saying your ABCs if you were doing it standing on your head with coyotes gnawing at your toes while manic clowns pelt you with water balloons.

What will you do with your “magic hour?”

Finding exercise time is as easy as standing on your head while coyotes gnaw at your toes. #humor

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