8 reasons ELLEN should come to Mom Prom

If you haven’t heard, I’m hosting this teeny-tiny event (umm, NOT) called The Mom Prom. In a nutshell, Mom Proms are charity events that resemble Prom — but without our pimply-faced sidekicks we called dates. Thanks to a genius idea from a mom in Michigan, proms are popping up all over the U.S., raising thousands of dollars for those in need.

For those of you who know me, you know that I “Go Big Or Go Home” when it comes to this event. I’m very passionate about benefitting our charity and I pull out all the stops to make our Prom as successful as possible.

So this year I’ve decided to invite a very special guest to help us with our mission.

No, I’m not kidding.

I invited Ellen.

Not only is Ellen the funniest woman on the planet, she also happens to be a very charitable and compassionate person when it comes to helping those in need.

I mean, why not?

Now listen up. It’s a very thought out plan… Since Ellen is the queen of fancy footwork, we have decided to try to entice her to prom by creating a Mom Prom Dance for her to debut.

Folks, be forewarned. We took one for the team here.

Click HERE to watch us embarrass ourselves.

Alright, I see you shaking your head over there. Yes, I know there’s a teensy chance my emails will be overlooked. However, what good would I be if I didn’t have a Plan B?

Today I blessed Ellen’s mailbox with this:

8 reasons why ELLEN should come to MOM Prom

1. Let me start by addressing that on your book jacket, you told me I was your favorite reader AND you loved my blouse. You yourself told me. Isn’t that reason enough? (Just a note: If you haven’t read her book “Seriously, I’m Kidding” you are missing out. It’s laugh out loud, funny.)

2. Rumor has it, you were once in the vacuum sales biz. Now I can tell you, moms can talk a mean vacuum. And you’d, no-doubt, sell 200 vacuums in one night once we all got drinking.

3. You may have noticed that I looked like a “human auger” while attempting the Justin Beiber “wheelchair-down” move in the dance video. I could really benefit from a lesson in the Dougie from a TRUE professional.

4. Deep down, your conscience is telling you to return to your Southern roots. You may not realize it, but you are secretly missing Bojangles Sweet Tea, cheesy grits and monogramed bloomers.

5. No doubt about it, you would be the obvious choice for Prom Queen. However, without you, there will be 200 sweaty women in bad dresses, all clawing for a chance to relive their glory days.

6. I’m not gonna lie, most of us are hormonal, middle aged moms with laundry problems. Any chance of a night of laughing with our favorite comedian may just get us that much closer to our goal.

7. According to the show “Finding Bigfoot” there have been over 200 Bigfoot sightings in NC in the past 2 years. Just think of how exciting an Ellen episode could be if you actually spotted a squatch on your way into prom!

8. Lastly, all jokes aside, we have this cause that is very important to us. You see, we have these little people that are sick and a goal to raise $10,000 to help them. We are moms on a mission to support the seriously and terminally ill children all over the country — as well as our 2 sick little friends right here in our own backyard.

It’s a no-brainer really.

After all, don’t we all secretly miss taffeta??

Yours Truly,

The 2012 Raleigh Mom Prom Committee

The good, the bad and the downright ugly

Over the past 2.5 years I’ve somehow managed to brainwash my readers into thinking minivans are awesome, Ke$ha is the devil and Justin Beiber is the modern-day Elvis.

It’s been a wild ride, my friends.

As I embark upon my 300th post, I look back to find that, somewhere along the way, this blog has evolved from a platform for mediocre tips on pantry organization — to a collaboration of absurd (but entertaining) stories that put life, as a mom, in perspective.

A “Mom Fan Club” of sorts … one that reaches out to say: Hey, we sometimes suck at this motherhood thing too.

… one that says: You’re not the only one that feels guilty for wanting ‘me’ time — even if it is just a trip to the dentist.

I launched this blog in December of 2009, longing to share the secret of motherhood. The key to sanity for all moms who often felt overwhelmed under-appreciated.

But as I soon realized there is no ONE secret.

Just like adolescence, the journey to “find ourselves” has not always been pretty. We may not have always been spot-on with the “inspiring moms to hit their stride” motto — but it only took being hit in the head with one too many sippy cups to learn that brutal honesty is really what you want.

*cue sarcasm … And while we know you are all desperately searching for tips on how to swaddle your baby or where to get $1.00 off a Pillsbury pie crust, you won’t find anything like that here.

In fact, taking that type of advice from us is borderline hazardous.

Our approach is, perhaps, a bit more subtle:

1. Social services scares us more than a bad boob job.

2. The thing most of us secretly want is a “wife.”

3. Botox is better than a self-help book.

4. Getting a ‘hot babysitter’ is like putting candy in front of a baby.

5. Getting busted doing ‘karate’ with Daddy in bed will scar your 10 year old.

6. The Elf on The Shelf is the Supernanny sent from God.

7. Diamonds are not a girl’s best friend. Spa giftcards are.

… and so on and so forth.

So maybe it took 2.5 years and 300 posts to crack the code but what I’ve found to be the real secret to happieness is to appreciate the humor of this fine journey we call motherhood.

To roll with the punches, ladies.

…Yes, our kids have pooped their pants on the beach in front of a group of beer-bonging spring-breakers… Yes, our kids once defined wine as “Mommy’s little helper” in front of the Baptist preschool teacher… Yes, we tell our kids their art project accidentally “fell” into the garbage.

You are not alone.

So join us over here as we celebrate the SoMo revolution. Enjoy some coffee-snorting fun by losing the guilt, embracing the imperfection and enjoying the journey as the ‘proudly imperfect’ mom that you were intended to be.

 

Spring cleaning in progress

Apparently, blogs need spring cleaning too. It’s time to sweep up the Cheerios from my home page and scrub the crayon from my sidebars. We’ll be back shortly with more coffee-snorting fun. Stay tuned!

I’ve heard french fries are so Oooh la la

If you’re not caught up on the stack of bestsellers on your night stand or simply refuse to go deeper than the Hunger Games — you may have missed the latest parenting manual sensation.

Pamela Druckerman, an American mother of 3, living with her British husband in Paris, has penned, “Bringing up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the wisdom of French Parenting. Or as it might also be known, “OOOh la la, French children are magnificent!”

The Tiger Mother is so 2011.

Druckerman says the French parenting style is more hands-off than in the States. No helicopter mothering allowed in the land of wine and cheese. Children are left to play and explore and no self-respecting Mum in any arondissement would allow the children to dictate her life. French women not only don’t get fat, they stand at the edge of the playground and allow the petite ones to do what they will. And they apparently wouldn’t dare feed them a chicken nugget, even one in a béarnaise sauce. French children eat grown-up food.

Real French food at that.

It was just last year that Amy Chua detailed her parenting successes, (and she felt there were many), in her book “The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother”. This one will be remembered best for hours upon hours of regimented scheduling, including enough violin practice for a daughter to get to Carnegie Hall. (That still happens? Really?) And don’t forget the fact she was raising little girls who weren’t allowed to have or attend sleepovers. Sleepovers are, as is well documented, the primary social activity of the 9 to 13 year old set.

Feeling intimidated?

Well, although Druckerman states this casual parenting style has produced a nation of good sleepers and good eaters, I’ve discovered French mothers do get a few perks in the process over the ordinary carpool-driving American Moms.

First, there’s the four months of paid maternity leave … with the additional state-sponsored day care and preschool …  and I don’t know about you, but there’s something to be said for all of that good champagne.

Alrighty mums — now it’s your turn. Are you raising your children in a cosmopolitan European style? Or is their only exposure to anything French, French fries? Take this quiz to find out.

RESULTS:

Mostly A’s- Grab your passport and get on the next flight to Paris!

Mostly B’s – Those are going to be some really successful kids you’ve got there. Until they rebel and hate you.

Mostly  C’s – Come over here and sit by me so I look better!

For more from Carla, SoMo’s very own Crafty Mama, click here.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist …

Lately I have been channeling my inner scientist.

Somehow I thought signing up for the Science Olympiad was a good idea. I thought, “Hey, we’ll launch rockets, we’ll learn new things, it will be awesome.” And it is. I’m just learning that I’m really not a very good rocket scientist.

But apparently that doesn’t seem to matter. For the last six weeks we have been blowing up 2 liter bottles in our back yard by filling them with water and pumping them up with air by way of a bicycle tire pump until they launch. Genius, right? I’m even able to say things like “Hey kids, we just used Newton’s Third Law of Motion!” (that’s for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction for those who need a reminder.)

Like moths to a flame, every kid, grown up and neighborhood dog is drawn to our rocketry afternoons. Pretty soon everyone wants to take a turn at building their own rocket, pumping it up and vying for the most coveted job, pulling the launcher string.

Are we learning anything other than how much PSI it takes to blow a 2 liter bottle sky high? Not sure. Are we furthering the love of science? Probably. But the coolest lesson we have learned is to see how much we can fail miserably at something and have a total blast.

That part makes it worth it. Science for me as a kid was the most boring thing imaginable. I can remember my 8th grade teacher drawing circle after circle on the chalkboard as he talked about molecules. Or even better was reading mountains of textbooks, while cramming hundreds of science terms in my head. I even remember studying Newton’s Laws.

The truth is science is super cool if it’s done in a memorable way. My guess is that my son will definitely remember Newton’s Third Law forever — with some great stories of blowing things up in his back yard. For all this, my attempts at amateur rocket scientist are time well spent. If nothing more than to revel in the jubilation of a bunch of kids celebrating the awesome beauty of a 2 liter reaching the treetops.

For more from Cara, SoMo’s very own Mama Inspiration, click here.







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