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"It's stuck on glue in my brain pocket mom!"

- Gretel

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Mamalode Why

Our Bedroom

Our bedroom is not the kind of space you’d see in a Pottery Barn catalog or on HGTV. After years of transient living, and though the rightful owners of the house, my husband and I have yet to concede to a grown-up way of life by making this room our own. The walls are bare and the same off-white shade they’ve been for the last four years. Traffic passes beneath the open window, interrupting our sleep when a cool summer night becomes a warm morning commute. An addition with a new master suite awaits us with space for a Jacuzzi and views of Snowbowl, Stuart Peak and Mt. Jumbo. But for now this unassuming room is ours.
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Air Quotes and Other Life Lessons

By Mo Larson

Sometimes life cruises along smoothly with nary a roadblock in sight.  And then one morning you wake up and your 10-year-old is doing air quotes.  And he’s not even doing them correctly.  I know where he got it from—I went through a good 6 months to a year where I was quite liberal with the air quotes.  He recently came out of his room that he shares with his 8-year-old brother Jake and said,

“Sheesh, Jake is like (begin air quotes) obsessed with (end air quotes) Legos”.

The problem with that statement is that Jake actually IS obsessed with Legos and since his obsession has kept him from joining a gang or becoming a Green Day groupie, we are fine with his obsession.
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My Husband the Vegetarian

By Mo Larson

So my husband Joe and I have been married for almost 14 years. I like to refer to it as “14 years of wedded bliss”. Sometimes the statement is ironic, and sometimes it is right on the money. If you are married, or have been married, or are in a committed relationship, you know that marriage takes a LOT of work. Or the good ones do anyway. One thing that Joe and I agreed on when we said our vows was that we’d always work hard on our marriage. And that we’d never become vegetarians. We were smart enough to know that our marriage could never endure that.

There are numerous reasons I married Joe. He’s really kind to people, he’s extremely optimistic about life, and he’s easy on the eyes. I don’t think anyone would ever refer to Joe as a metrosexual, but if you’re acquainted with my husband you know that he has a sort of cave man magnetism. Sorry for any unsettling images.

One of the main reasons I married Joe though, is that I instinctively knew that he’d be a really amazing dad. Plus he’s hot. From the time I was in about the 5th grade, as I began the uphill climb out of what I’ll generously refer to as “my tomboy days”, I knew that I wanted to have kids someday. Up until then I was still wearing my brother Brendon’s hand-me-downs, and I had an unfashionably short haircut that resulted in me being called “little man” at the gas station one time. Seriously. My mom told me that it was a “Dorothy Hammill” haircut, and that all of the chic little girls were getting it.
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Can we talk?

“Hey Mama! Hey Mama! Know what’s funny? What if you had feet on your head?” Marquez collapses into giggles at his hilarious idea. “Hey Mama! Hey Mama! What if your nose was on your foot?” More hysterics. I laugh, too, but really, this is the millionth mutation he’s thought of in the last twenty minutes and the humor is beginning to elude me.

Moments later, he changes course. “Hey Mama! Hey Mama! Guess what? When I grow up I wanna be a motorcycle racer!” He proceeds to contemplate all, and I mean all, the things he could be when he grows up. Half an hour later, I am simply nodding my head as he rattles on about his career goals and I feel a little sleepy.

I remember seeing pink t-shirts made for girls that read: “I’m talking and I can’t shut up!” I was appalled that parents would mock their own child by purchasing one. Now I think that they should have made those shirts for little boys, too.


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Tweeny Challenges

By Jen Slayden

Today started off as “one of THOSE days”: The kind of morning where I want to crawl back into my bed and throw the covers over my head in hopes of re-entering the fabulous city of dreamland.

It started immediately with bickering tweens. Having tweens is a challenge. I have one that takes way too long to get ready for school, no matter what time I wake her up. She thrives on creativity and is easily distracted. Then I have another who is usually up before anyone else, with bed made, clothes on, breakfast eaten and nervous energy about missing the bus. Unfortunately, for the siblings this nervous energy results in bantering that usually ends up in a fight.

Such was this morning, when my oldest so lovingly tried to hurry the other two along because it was almost time to catch the bus. My youngest son, at six years old, doesn’t appreciate the help. His main goal in life right now is to be independent, and having older brother try to hurry him into his jacket and hat was a downright loss of dignity!
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