Tag - humor

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Hooray for Summer (Exclamation Point): Steps to a Successful Break (Question Mark)
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One Tough Mother
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Grocery Store “Gangstas”
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From the Desk of…an Eight-Year-Old
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Please Pass the Funny Stuff
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A PhD in Mommyhood?
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Runway Model?
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Overscheduled, Underworked
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Several Thousand “Octibels” Above the Ground
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Moms Don’t Make Martinis

Hooray for Summer (Exclamation Point): Steps to a Successful Break (Question Mark)

A year ago, as the school year drew to an end, I wrote a post that received some flak.  In Hooray for Summer? (In retrospect, Horrors, It’s Summer! would have been a fun title…) I described the difficult transition for parents, myself wholeheartedly included, to having the kiddos home for three months.  I outlined my plan to keep us all from going crazy, which, it ends up, was a near-total flop.  Disappointing, to say the least…I needed a solid strategy because I was really not looking forward to the loss of (forgive me) my freedom. But this year?  I am…

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One Tough Mother

I didn’t plan it this way.  But two weeks ago I realized this post, which I drafted specifically for Mothers’ Day, would be PulseonParenting.com’s 100th.  Hitting the century mark with an entry honoring moms feels like good karma.  And I want you, all who have been reading PulseonParenting, to be a part of the good vibe.  Moms can handle most anything parenting throws their way…in fact, I’d put money on it that you all are Tough Mothers.  I’ll bet you have posted your most heroic, vulnerable, gross and/or hilarious maternal moments on Facebook or Twitter or your own blog.  But…

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Grocery Store “Gangstas”

He was so proud.  He loved bell peppers and tiny things in general (still does) and showed me the diminutive green pepper while we shopped the produce section of the grocery store.  I turned away for just a few seconds (it’s always “just a few seconds,” right?) to select some lettuce and when I turned back to my son, his tongue was hanging out of his mouth and jalapeño seeds falling to the floor.

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From the Desk of…an Eight-Year-Old

Children are astute observers and acutely grounded in reality.  And when they take their perspectives to paper, the results can be hilarious, especially when combined with a glaring absence of auto correct. Or a filter.  They are kids after all…honest and real and curious. So, for example, asking a veteran, “Did you like fighting in the war?” doesn’t seem out-of-line.  (Yes, a second grader wrote this in a letter to my father-in-law this past Veterans’ Day…). That said, my daughter loves to write.  Recently I found some notes on her desk that would push the envelope if written by an…

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Please Pass the Funny Stuff

As with turkey and cranberries and Christmas cookies, I wanted seconds after finishing Jim Gaffigan’s hilarious take on parenting in his book Dad is Fat.  So for another humor fix I turned to Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?.  In her autobiographical turn, I learned Mindy Kaling and I have several things in common.  Both of us were awkward, bookish kids who never got invited to keggers.  And we also agree that Will Ferrell is the funniest guy ever. But somehow, despite our similarities, she was the one who became a successful comedy writer.  Huh.  Probably because back in college…

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A PhD in Mommyhood?

Mommy Brain.  We all know someone with it.  We all joke about it.  Any mom who has ever locked her keys in the car, left the milk under the grocery cart in the cart corral or who has said, “What?  (Some event) has happened in (insert name of country here)?!” know exactly what Mommy Brain is. Or do we? If I had the foresight years ago to scrapbook all the clever ditties I read about motherhood, I could tell you who derived my favorite factoid and how but since I can’t…Well, I’m going to tell you about it anyway.  Because…

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Runway Model?

I am barely five-foot four.  There is nothing in my closet with a designer label (unless Osprey and Merrill count).  I firmly believe my own flesh-and-blood heels belong no higher than a couple centimeters off the ground.  So I doubt anyone would mistake me for one of the genetic enigmas we call “runway models.” But the other day, something happened that could change that.

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Overscheduled, Underworked

I’m just going to come out and say it: Kids need to work more. They need to scatter legos and build, build, build.  They need to challenge each other with board games and don old clothes, pretending to be a Spy Kid, Dorothy from Kansas or Captain America. If play is a child’s work, why don’t they get to do it more often?

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Several Thousand “Octibels” Above the Ground

Not unlike many infants, my younger son at six months old had a penchant for squealing.  His whole body shook with unbridled glee as he opened his little mouth wide and let loose, eyes shining with the head-ringing volume he attained.   As proud as he was, and even though he was making the happiest of infant sounds, few others were as pleased as he was at his ability.  Case in point:  the crabby fellow air traveler who had the nerve to tell me he didn’t like being seated next to a mother and her baby on an airplane.  So…

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Moms Don’t Make Martinis

Allow me to clarify:  moms don’t make martinis (at least none that I know of) but they sure do need one every once in awhile.  Dads do, too, but nowadays they make their own.  Moms don’t wear pearls and smart little aprons to greet their partners at the door after a long day’s work (and I refer to the work done by both partners, not just the primary breadwinner), as June Cleaver did on the iconic Leave it to Beaver tv show in the late 1950’s. But admittedly, I have found myself wishing I could channel some of that which Barbara Billingsley…

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