"Friday Finds"

I am totally stealing this week's Friday Find from my buddy Shannon. On Wednesday, she put up a link to this "site" and it cracked me up so much that I just had to use it for my find.

It's a site sure to tickle the fancy of all you editors out there.

What's your find?

If you'd like to play, review the rules here. Then submit your link and get to commenting!

One Bad Mother

So, I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that my two-year-old can use the word "reciprocity" correctly.

Good, because he needs to know about reaping what you sow. If he wants me to respect him, he needs to treat me with respect, too. Which is something we struggle with on many a day.

I only sing the first and last verses (I leave out all the risque parts in the middle) but still. At least it keeps me sane.

Friday Finds: Desperation Entertaining

This Friday, I want to highlight a cookbook that should be in everyone's collection, even if you don't frequently entertain. Nearly every recipe in this book is fantastic, and most of them can be easily scaled if you are not serving a crowd.

Get thee to Amazon for this book!

Alicia Ross and Beverly Mills have hit the jackpot in their cookbook, Desperation Entertaining. They have wonderful plan and prepare-ahead tips to make cooking for gatherings a breeze. And the recipes - oh, the recipes. The Heirloom Fudge Pie is to die for, and so easy you won't believe it.

So go, check it out. You'll love it.

What's your find?

*NOTE* Mr. Linky is not currently working correctly, so just leave your URL in the comments, and when I figure out how to make Mr. Linky work, I'll enter it in myself. Thanks!

If you'd like to add your Friday Find to the list, check out the rules here.

Really? It's a fish?

I was making dinner last night, and noticed the packaging as I pulled the last individually quick frozen salmon fillet from the bag. A big allergy warning on the back said this:



Really? Salmon is a fish? Because I thought I was cooking up some rare form of chicken. Does the grocery store really think that's a necessary warning label?

I wanted to post this to participate in the Parent Bloggers Network's Wacky Warning Label Contest, mostly because I think it's hilarious. Plus, I happen to agree with these guys. So, what's the wackiest warning label you've seen lately?

10-20-30

I saw this meme on Actual Unretouched Photo a few days ago, and it's been a while since I've done a meme, so I thought I'd play along.

-10-
Ten years ago I was a senior in high school. I had just broken up with a very, very nice boy, Matt, who looked exactly like Dean Cain. Hot. He was football player and a student of martial arts. Catholic and respectful. And so sweet he almost made my teeth hurt.

I had to break up with him because he was much more serious about our relationship than I was, and when words like "love" started entering the conversation, I hastily backed away. I had recently had my heart broken by my very first love, and I did not want to go down that road again. When I met SuperHubby a few months later and began dating him seriously, Matt called me very upset that I was dating, since I had told him I was not looking for a relationship. Which, in October of 1997 was true, but by the time I got to January of 1998, all that was out the window. What can I say? SuperHubby was just *the one*, and I knew it.

-20-
Twenty years ago, I was in the second grade at Bushy Park Elementary school. I had short hair, short like a boy. I had begged my mother to let me cut my nearly waist-length hair, because she had cut her hair off, and I wanted to be just like her. My mom had cut hers off because she had been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. I didn't know what that meant. I don't remember much about being seven. I had the chickenpox on my seventh birthday. My mom had cancer, which she beat, and is now in her 20th year of remission.

-30-
Thirty years ago, I wasn't even a gleam in my parents' eyes.

How about you? Where were you 10, 20, or 30 years ago?

*** Reminder - Friday Finds previews tomorrow! The post will be up by midnight or perhaps earlier, so you can add your find with Mr. Linky. ***

Friday Finds: Reminder

Well, since last week's response to my Friday Finds was, well non-existent, I figured I'd give you guys a week's notice, so you can get your ideas together.

Every Friday, starting next Friday, I will post a neat item or website that I think is useful, helpful, or fun. If you'd like to play along, you can write a post on your own blog, and then use the Mister Linky at the bottom to add your page to the list.

Here are the complete rules:

Write a post on your own blog about a "Friday Find." The find must be family friendly - this is a G-rated blog, and I'd like to keep it that way. You may use the graphic if you would like.

Then leave your name and a short description of your post, and link to your specific post in the Mister Linky below. It might look something like this:

Jane (New Cleaning Product)

Here's how to link to a specific post: On your blog, click on the title of your Friday Finds post. It should open in a new window, where the only post you see is your Friday Finds post. Then copy that URL into the Mister Linky. It's super simple.

If you link to your homepage, I will ask you to repost your link so that it links directly to the page with your Friday Find on it. If you cannot do this within a reasonable amount of time, your link will be removed.

I would appreciate a mention and link to Wishful Thinking in your post, if you don't mind.

After you've added your link, take a moment to check out and comment on some of the other great Friday Finds!

Here's hoping you all will have some great finds next Friday!

Giggle Pie

I wish this blog had sound. I wish you could hear the Seth's chortle as he sits on my lap and watches the wind ruffle the leaves on the maple tree across the street. He sounds a little bit like those tubes that moo when you flip them over. The pattern goes like this: Inhale. Wheeze out a slow laugh on the exhale, "Heeehhh" then finish with a giggle, "heh heh heh heh heh."

Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, all told.

Sha-Poopie

I dashed down the stairs, expecting a fresh and steaming pile to be sitting at the bottom. But … the carpet was clean. I peeked around the far side of the dining room table. Nothing.

But that … smell. I could still smell that … nasty, nasty smell.

Find out why my house stinks at Crunchable.

Friday Finds: Intro

I'm launching a new feature here at Wishful Thinking: Friday Finds. Every Friday I will post about a website or product that I find helpful, useful, or just plain fun.

This week's feature is a website I tripped across last night, Raising Godly Tomatoes.

Elizabeth, who writes the site, is the mother of 10 (yeah, count 'em 10!!!) children. She offers sage and Godly advice on childrearing.

Last night, I was feeling overwhelmed by parenting my two boys, ages 2 years and 4 months, respectively. I was at the end of my rope, and had stopped being an effective parent, and had become a screaming, irritated, short-tempered and very ineffective parent.

Raising Godly Tomatoes helped me remember some of the basic tenets of good parenting: namely that consistency and gentle correction are the most effective ways to raise children who are kind, respectful and responsible. It seems simple, but she presents her technique in a loving and easy to understand way, and supports her points with Biblical teachings.

To be fair, she does advocate "swatting" children on a clothed or diapered bottom as a form of correction, or to get a child's attention when he is doing an unacceptable behavior. I am not comfortable "swatting," but I think her perspective on the swat is gentle and would not cause harm to a child if you did do it.

I also believe I can use some of her other ideas and still have success, even if I do not chose to spank.

If you're having trouble managing your children, I would highly recommend that you spend some time at Elizabeth's site. It's wonderful.


***

Thanks for reading my Friday Find! If you'd like to play along, here are the rules:

Write a post on your own blog about a "Friday Find." The find must be family friendly - this is a G-rated blog, and I'd like to keep it that way. You may use the graphic if you would like.

Then leave your name and a short description of your post, and link to your specific post in the Mister Linky below. It might look something like this:

Goslyn (Childrearing Help) - then that would link directly to this post, not to my main homepage.

Here's how to link to a specific post: On your blog, click on the title of your Friday Finds post. It should open in a new window, where the only post you see is your Friday Finds post. Then copy that URL into the Mister Linky. It's super simple.

If you link to your homepage, I will ask you to repost your link so that it links directly to the page with your Friday Find on it. If you cannot do this within a reasonable amount of time, your link will be removed.

After you've added your link, take a moment to check out and comment on some of the other great Friday Finds!

Do You Ever ...

Have a day where both babies wake up grumpy and you try as hard as you can to be cheery, but you really just want them to stop screaming so you can have a cup of coffee?

And then you finally get the screaming monsters dressed and into the car to go to a meeting that's supposed to make you feel better, but it doesn't, because the speaker is a breast cancer survivor and her speech makes you cry?

And then she talks about the importance of prevention and hands out little breast self-exam cards to help you remember, and you feel guilty because you know you never do your self-exam?

It's not that you forget to do them; it's just that both your mother and grandmother had breast cancer, and you are so afraid you will find a lump that you figure it's better just not to know. Do you ever feel really stupid for thinking that?

And then you have to leave the meeting early because the babies won't stop crying and won't stay in childcare?

Does it ever happen that while you are trying to fix lunch for your two screaming babies, you realize your breast pads have failed, and your entire shirt is soaked with milk? And then the dog barks to be let out, so you let him out, only to watch him run away through the unlatched back gate, towards the high school, where the teenagers are getting out for lunch?

So then you have to leave both children in the house, unattended, while you run down the street in bare feet and a milk-soaked shirt, trying to catch the dog before he gets hit by a car or picked up by the police?

Then when you come home you wonder if trading in your job as a mediocre reporter to be a mediocre mother and housewife was a good idea? At least you got paid for being a reporter. Plus, you could actually quit that job.

Do you ever wonder how you can spend all day picking up and straightening up and trowing crap away, and yet your house never appears neat, clean or uncluttered?

Do you ever have a day like that?

Mascara Woes

Today is backwards day at Works for Me Wednesday, and I am loving it! Instead of giving advice, we ask for some help from the great, amazing blogging community.

I wear contacts. I rub my eyes a lot. And I can't find any eye makeup that can hold up to the challenge without flaking or smearing. I've even tried the impossible-to-remove Covergirl Great Lash Waterproof. During daily wear, it still leaves little raccoon marks under my eyes, when I try to get it off at night, the marks just get worse.

Are there any great mascaras out there that won't leave me looking like a zombie?

My Son is a Preacher Man

Meet Rowdy, the itinerant preacher. He's holding a camp meeting revival in every room in the house this week, and he is on fire with the spirit. He's got his "Halleluias" and "Amens" down. He takes his microphone into every room with him, so the good news will be heard by all. (In case you don't recognize it, it's the toilet paper holder from the loo.)

His sermon, while short, is pretty theologically sound:

"Jesus on CROSS," he growls, gesticulating wildly, his index finger pointing to a spot on the wall behind his head, where my wedding photo hangs. "Jesus come DOWN!"

Amen Brother Rowdy, Amen.

Karma

I lay on the bathroom floor, fingers curled into claws, totally immobilized. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t feel my legs, but I could feel the bile rising in my throat.

“This is Karma in action,” I thought to myself.

The Tuesday before, SuperHubby dragged himself home from work at 10:30 p.m., complaining of dizziness, nausea and chills. He climbed into bed and proceeded to toss and turn and keep me awake until 1 a.m.

I tried -I really tried - to be solicitous. I got him a hot pack to warm his freezing hands. I found Advil to calm the fever he didn’t have. I fetched medicine to settle his stomach.

I brushed my fingers through his hair and rubbed his back, muttering “It’s going to be ok; it’s going to be ok.”

But what it sounded like was: “Good Lord. You are a grown man. This is the stomach flu and you don’t even have a fever. Suck it up.”

I was irritated and tired, and as his illness lingered into Wednesday and Thursday, I probably didn’t give him the loving kindness he deserved. When he made it out of bed and downstairs, he would immediately lie on the couch as though the trip had cost him every ounce of energy he possessed.

I scowled.

Four solid days of single-parenthood weren’t setting well with me.

On Friday, SuperHubby was feeling better, but still too drained to make it to work, or to help much with the boys. Instead, he headed to the doctor to try to figure out what was wrong with him.

I was feeling ok, until about four in the afternoon, when Friday’s lunch came rushing back. I thought it was so odd, because the only I get sick with a high fever or when pregnant. I had no fever, and I knew I wasn’t pregnant.

I called SuperHubby and asked him to pick up some ginger ale or Gatorade on his way home from the doctor's office. He said he was too tired. I figured I could live without it, and let it drop. But I was feeling woozy, and ticked that not only was he sick, now he wasn't even helping me out.

I scowled some more, then threw up.

By seven, I knew I wasn't going to make it without some Gatorade. I called a neighbor, and begged her to run to the store for me. She said she would, after dinner. But by eight, she still hadn't arrived, and I was shaking. SuperHubby was putting Tom to bed. I had Seth, but I was shaking so hard I was afraid to pick him up.

By nine, I had collapsed on the bathroom floor, immobile and terrified. SuperHubby couldn't drive me to the hospital, so he called 911.

The EMTs had a bit of trouble maneuvering me past the pack-n-play, the trendy Fisher Price Rainforest Swing, and the exersaucer. They kept telling me to "breathe slower" and looked surprised and vaguely disgusted when I vomited bile all over the floor. I wondered why they were in this profession.

As the EMTs wheeled me out the front door and into the ambulance, Drunk Judy from across the street came over to see how I was doing. "You ok?" she slurred, not unkindly. I was thankful that I couldn't speak, so I didn't have to say, "No, I'm fine. I volunteer to do this to help train the medics. It's really a fun way to spend a Friday night! Here's your sign."

*It's been a little over two weeks since the horrible, awful, very bad stomach flu hit our house. We are all fine and completely recovered. In the process we managed to spread the joy to one neighbor, both of SuperHubby's parents and our wonderful, incredible babysitter. They've all recovered, too.*