Best Mommy Blogger ryhmes with Best Mommy Frogger!

I just want you guys to know that I'm not quite 30 years old yet. There are approximately 89 days until that day comes. (I say 'approximately' to make it seem like I didn't really pick up my phone, open up the calendar and count out the days to my 30th birthday, cause who would do something like that?)

Regardless of my actual age, I am a member of the highly esteemed Studio Thirty Plus, a website for bloggers who are over thirty and wordy. I think there is a general consensus among some of the snarkier and jerkhead (I'm looking at you Vic, what the hell!?) members that I preformed sexual acts on both Jules and Jerrod (creators of the site) in order to be a member before the age of 30, but this is not true. I did, however, cry and whine a lot and send them hundreds of thousands of threatening text messages in order to claim a spot on their member list.

Depending on how you look a this I'm either adding insult to injury or a excited and proud blogger today because I am nominated for an Boomerang Award on Studio Thirty Plus!!!

In order to capitalize on what I'm sure was a huge mistake, please go and vote for me there....Here is a handy link to the page where you can vote for me as:

BEST MOMMY BLOGGER!!!

In order to further convince you to go there, sign up (if you're not already a member) and vote for me, allow me to show you some examples of my obvious maturity AND my excellent parenting...

Here I am in one of the hats that are on sale at Pageboy shop in the Lawrenceville neighborhood of Pittsburgh PA. I was supposed to get some photos of myself in my hats looking cute and cool in order to promote the shop and my adorable products (available for custom order right now at Ultra Cute Crochet)...instead I decided to mine for some gold, in order to supplement my business output, of course.

My kids were born in a barn. He was happy standing there, and the heat only kicked on 30 times in the 15 minutes I let him stand there with the door open while we were getting ready to go. At least he has a hat on.


I not only knew about, but also participated in the Great Twister Incident of 2010, with jacked up hair. There were several serious injuries...but I gave the injured children pop and cookies at 10 am. They felt much better.

I let these three questionable characters (3 of my 4 younger siblings) around my children on a regular basis.

So since I have shown you my supremacy in all things Best Mommy Bloggerish, please go to Studio Thirty Plus and vote for me!!!

Jeremiah is a Hot Hello Kitty!

Tara at Bite The Bedbugs (which is disturbing imagery) wants a teacup piggy. Not one of those random toy piggies but a real live one, which is also disturbing. She animated her discussion about getting a piggy with her husband Arun and I was delighted by it!

So I decided to ask Jeremiah to have an argument with me so I can animate it and put it on my blog. Cause I've never had an original thought in my life.

This is what happened when I asked Jeremiah to have an argument with me:




I'm now seriously considering wearing little yellow bows in my hair all the time. And Jeremiah?! Those overalls are tres chic AND incredibly hot. Boom Chicka Wow Wow!

Quoth Erin, The Cutest Raven

One of my favorite people on the face of the planet (I am unfortunately usually chocked full with countless exaggerations, but in this case I'm being as understated as possible) is Liz from Mean Mama.

A few posts ago she quoted Nathaniel Hawthorne from a letter to his sister referring to his relationship with his wife. I went to the site she found the letter on, read the letter and began to think of all my favorite quotes/letters from famous men. Men hold a dear and near place in my heart, not just because I'm a heterosexual female, but because of the great impact that certain men have made in my life. Despite their faults as human beings, they've moved me in vast ways.

I thought I'd share some of my favorite quotes from men I consider to be great.

Cliche? Yes, it might be! Wise and true? Yes, it certainly is! - "All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost," J.R.R Tolkien

He might not be as well known, and I've faltered when reading some of his work (i.e. Howards End), but he was wise and wise and wise -“If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country." E.M. Forster

Strange, trans-morphic, sickly. A man who made a whole new literary style to befuddle hundreds of thousands of 11th grade literature students- "I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us." Franz Kafka

I could write about Thoreau for days and days. A smart, well-read man, who loved the world around him so much that he became a hermit on Walden Pond in order to embrace it thoroughly. Immersed, finely executed, hard working and humble. - "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."

"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost: that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler." Henry David Thoreau

Oddly enough, some of my most remembered quotes were quotes about my favorite author, Henry James. He was elitist, brilliant and well known for his ridiculous long winded nature. He had an unlikely friendship with a much younger Edith Wharton and also Virginia Woolf. Most of his novels/novellas are about Americans traveling or living abroad in Europe and he inspired a whole slew of writers (including Wharton) that began to write on the same subject. I love this quote from Wharton about a moment with Henry James - "Tranquil white clouds hung above it in a windless sky, and the silence and solitude were complete as we sat looking across at the crumbling towers, and at their reflection in a moat starred with water-lilies, and danced over by great blue dragonflies. For a long time no one spoke; then James turned to me and said solemnly: 'Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language."

Ironically, James was never involved with a woman. I say ironically because of his complex understanding (which a lot of critics see as misogynist) and involvement in the creation of female characters. Regardless, he liked to conjecture about himself, and like me was definitely prone to exaggeration -"I'm that queer monster the artist, an obstinate finality, an inexhaustible sensibility." Henry James

Finally, I'll end with a quote from the arrogant bastard, James Joyce. I loved him as a child, but the older I get the more fed up I become with him...what is genius and how does one accomplish creating works that contain genius? He's so confusing! -"A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery."

"I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality." James Joyce


I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! I have new items available at my other site, please go and check it out and share the link!! Ultra Cute Crochet

Switzerland and The Sad Girl

Most normal, well-made American girls would be pleased as a pickle to be spending their 16th birthday on a whirlwind trip around Europe and she was pickly pleased until just 20 minutes prior to this point in time. Right now at this remotely viewed moment she's sitting on the side of a giant bed with a ridiculously fluffy white comforter. She's got a notepad filled with numbers in one hand and the hotel phone in the other.

Her head is down and she's sobbing gently, working up to a more substantial weeping. She's still wearing her traveling clothes from earlier that day, a boys' navy and baby blue striped polo shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. She has a thermal shirt wrapped around her waist carelessly and is wiping her snotty face on one sleeve. Our girl finally raises her head and flicks her thick chestnut hair off of her shoulders in a mindless head cocking motion. She hangs up the phone, distracted by some commotion outside.

Not impressed by the huge glass french doors, the striking wrought iron balcony or the amazing mountain rising before her in white majestic grandeur, she gazes out at the group of her fellow students frolicking in the village many floors below her. They're all participating in a delightful, laughter-filled snow ball battle, American voices raising up to her on the balcony, echoing off the walls of the gothic cathedral flanking the mountain-side.

The phone rings and she scuttles across the room in a clumsy sprint.

"Hello!?!?" She's so breathless with excitement, it's comical.
"Hello Erin! Happy Birthday!" It's her Mom. Not who she was hoping to hear from, but pretty damn good.
"Oh Momma. Thanks. I was feeling weird there for awhile. I miss you guys."
"But not too much, right Erin? Having a good time? "
"Yep! Having a wonderful time, Momma. Just feeling homesick for a minute. I feel so much better now that I talked to you."
"It's strange not having you here for your birthday, we'll have cake when you get home. Michelle and Mindi should be calling you shortly, I gave them all the numbers."
"Oh! Thanks Momma."
"Love you, Erin, be good. Please."
"Bye Mom, thanks again."

She waded through two more perfunctory conversations, two that made her feel so much better, but not the one she really was hoping to get. She hung up from the last phone call, thinking she could definitely go and join her group, finally. A smile was creeping over her generous mouth thinking about the journey she was on and how silly she had been acting earlier.

Before she left the room she checked her international calling card minutes one more time. 6 minutes left. Tensing up immediately she decided to try calling him one more time. She went through the annoying process of dialing out the calling cards numbers, the international dialing codes and finally, checking and double checking his number, she slowly pushed the buttons that would very hopefully connect her with him. On the first ring, her very self-absorbed mind she imagined him waiting by the phone, expectantly, hand poised above the receiver. On the second ring she tried to imagine what he might be doing instead of waiting by the phone for her call...skating with friends? Flirting with some girl? Not thinking about her, for sure. On the third ring she realized it was almost 11 pm in Pennsylvania. Was she calling too late?

"Hello?" A gruff, tired voice answers.
"Hi, Is Jeremiah home?"
"No, no he's not. Can I take a message?" Gruff, but polite.
"No!...No, that's okay. I'll just see him when I get back, I think." Click.

She grabbed some necessities and ran, clumsily again, out of the room. She tried to clear her head so she wasn't consumed by embarrassment or some other basic emotion. Leaving the hotel, she forced a smile onto her face like shoving an ill-fitting piece into a near finished puzzle and ran to meet her group.

The rest of her trip was wonderful.

She didn't talk to Jeremiah again for almost 8 years.

Summing Shit Up Yo.

Recently Miss Yvonne from Yo Mama's Blog asked me if she could interview me for the Questions for a Blogger section of Studio 30 Plus's website. (As a side note, I am not 30 until April. Jerrod and Jules run the site and happen to think I'm the best thing since sliced pumpkin seed bread, so I'm an honorary member....) Because I knew that this might bring at least a couple more people to my blog I decided to take a little look see around the site and spruce the ol' girl up a little bit.

You know, wax her hairy bits, brush her groady yellowing teeth (groady isn't a word?!) and put on something other type of clothing rather than her usual waffle-knit leggings, giant mohair sweater and knee high sneaker slippers.

I gave up trying to do anything new with her after about two minutes.

I was then distracted by an amazon email and spent a half hour filling my cart with books about Teddy Roosevelt and not actually buying any of them. I finally got up from my work area (an area in our front room on a couch where I pile up all of my work on the side table next to the couch) and started to make Max and Elijah some lunch.

While I was piling chipped chopped ham (disgusting), string cheese and grapes on their lunch plates my mind wandered back to posts I wrote in the past, when I was first filling my proverbial blank pages here on the interwebs. I have been writing fiction and other works since I was a very small child and had been previously only shared my work with a handful of people before I started writing my personal blog. I had submitted some of my work and have had positive results and have worked for a few websites as a freelancer, but mainly in a editing and informative capacity. My daddy has read some of my work and has praised it. A few professors and a couple friends have been subjected to my endless questioning after they read some of my work.

After I had children I was lucky enough to keep getting freelances jobs, and have appreciated the feedback I've received from readers here at Blogging is For Dorks so very much. This thought made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I might write a few more posts before the end of the year, but in this post I wanted to add links to my personal two favorite posts from Blogging is for Dorks (It felt weird writing that sentence, I sound like a douche!) and take the time to thank a few people (don't roll your eyes!!!) who have made this last year better for me.

I wrote this post during a particularly sad night for me and it felt so good to get feedback on it: This Night Rather Than All the Other Nights

The ups and downs I've experienced with my five year old daughter Maxine Jane over the course of her lifetime have been some of the most intense, sometimes horrible, sometimes incredible experiences I've ever had, this post embodies one of the better ones:
Max's First Thunderstorm

My Kids: Thanks for not being assholes. All of the time.

Jeremiah: Thank you for helping me be a better person. I look forward to growing with you and watching our children learn and love together.

Beckerino: I have no idea why I love you so much. You are a dirty slutty whore and you have all of those gross dogs but I appreciate you so much. I am glad we can have our therapy texting sessions and I hope someday I can sit on your face. I meant that in a totally non sexual way. Totally.

Aly-Bear: As much as I am like Becky I am opposite of you. That sentence brought back horrible flashbacks from a particularly awful SAT prep class. It seems like you live in a different world but yet we can talk for three hours straight. Thank you.

Mindi: We barely ever talk but it means so much to me that there's someone out there in the world that shares so many experiences with me. Someone who has seen me in the worst and the best of lights and still wanted to call me their friend through it all. I like to think you saw something in me from the beginning and that's why you've put up with all of my shit. Or maybe you moved far away to get away from me?

Once upon a time there was a me who wasn't a very good person. I am glad that I get the opportunity to make up for all the crap I've done. It make take me many more years of mucking shit, but someday I might have a clean stable.

If that last sentence made any sense to you, or if you thought it was a nice normal statement, you are a huge fucking dork!

A Christmas Tree Blogging Introspective

It seems this blog has morphed into a introspective about Christmas Trees.

Last post I talked about our familial patriarch and his lack of christmas tree building motivation.

This post I will show you a duo of trees, paired with a background of ugly wood paneling and a super humanly cute group of children that happen to be my own.

Our first Christmas with Elijah at our first house:



Three Christmas's later at our current residence:


What a difference a couple years and an escape out of rental/bad landlord hell will make!

Pre-Pre Christmas Napping

This is the space where the Christmas tree should go:


A sadly empty space.


This is the man who should be putting the tree in that spot:

See anything wrong with these photos? Mmmmhmmm. I thought so!