Guess who is on Scarymommy.com? I’m honored to be a guest blogger on my friend Jill Smokler’s blog! She is the best. And I’m grateful to vent to women like you about The Ubiquitous Arm Dangle. I have a feeling you’ll get what I’m talking about. Thanks for all your support, tips and comments. I can’t stop giggling. http://www.scarymommy.com/the-ubiquitous-arm-dangle/ Enjoy!

I could dedicate an entire book to venting about shopping with my children. Whether it involves running, chasing, timeouts, side swiping, spilling, crying, screaming, urinating or accidental stealing, I’ve been through it all.

This illustration says it all, really.

A couple “mortifying” shopping trips come to mind. Like the time I forgot to put a pull-up on my daughter when we went to the hair salon. Every two minutes, I’d ask, “Honey, do you have to go to the bathroom?” “No, I OK.” “You’re sure?” “I OK, mommy.” Five minutes later, we walk over to the shampoo station and in front of three hair stylists, my little girl squats (without getting her floral dress wet, mind you) and pees all over the floor.

While shopping in Pottery Barn for Kids, my 20-month-old son was playing quietly with an electronic dinosaur display. Everything was all fantabulous until I noticed an odor that could melt the plaid off of a pillow sham. Without even flinching, I lifted my son off the ground and oh yes…..sniffed his bum. Sure enough, it was my child who was causing the entire boy’s bedding section to clear out.

It doesn’t matter how big your little ones are or how many kids you have, bringing them to the store is a lot like throwing up. You never want to do it, but when the time comes, you realize you have no choice – and you know you’ll feel so much better when it’s over.

Thankfully, there are a few things you can do to help delay the running, chasing, timeouts, side swiping, spilling, crying, screaming, urinating or accidental stealing. One of my favorites is feeding the kids snacks while grocery shopping. Stop by the deli counter with a cart full of noisy kids and you’ll see even the longest line thin out so fast, the deli lady will give away free slices of cheese to all your children.

Unfortunately, this keeps them quiet for approximately one aisle.

Another thing you can do is try to make shopping seem like a fun activity. I used to put my kids in those obnoxiously wide mini-van-style kiddie carts so they could pretend to drive while I shopped. This sounds all nifty until you go shopping in aisles that are so narrow, you’ll get side-swiped if you hold a box of cereal the wrong way.

When shopping with kids, be swift and efficient. Don’t think, just shop. Try to get in and out as fast as you can. I like to collect as many edible products as possible while keeping their little fingers and toes inside the cart and simultaneously crossing items off my list. I don’t mind substituting American cheese for Swiss. I’ll sort it out later and deal with any extra cheese on my thighs after they hit college.

I once raced through the automatic doors of a local grocery store with smiling children in tow, swept past the produce aisle, grabbed the greenest bunch bananas and over-ripe strawberries, and upon reaching the bakery, nearly ran over an elderly store clerk, knocked down a cake display and apologized to three customers as I flew past the aisles. We blocked the exit doorway for a full minute when my then two-year-old refused to move out of the way. By the time I picked her up and put her back in the cart, she was crying so hard, I thought someone was going to call the local authorities.

Another thing you can do is pretend to look like you’ve got everything under control even when you’re about to snap. I have this annoying tendency to whisper-yell to my kids when they start to misbehave in a store. “No,” “Get back in the cart.” “Put that down.” “Stop touching your sister.” “Don’t put that in your mouth.” “Use your manners.” “Get back here this instant.” Get back in the cart. Stop doing that. Put that down!” Now my voice is getting louder and people are starting to stare. I start fake smiling and nodding at people as they pass by.

At this point, I should have already left the store, as my “intelligent parenting” books suggest. But when I’m out with my kids, my inner idiot tends to shine. I forget any semblance of common sense. After all, I only have three items left on my list and I can’t just leave.

That’s me as I read “The HORRORS of Shopping with Kids” during the 2013 Providence Listen to Your Mother Show in May. 

This method of mothering, not surprisingly, isn’t very impressive. It gives off the “So, you’re the crazy lady with kids” looks.

By the time I get the kids in the car, I think I’ve crossed off everything on my shopping list along with every “Don’t” parenting tip imaginable.

Just as we’re pulling into the driveway, I notice that everyone is quiet. There’s no spilling, pushing, crying, screaming or urinating. Everyone is great. As I start putting away the groceries, I think, “Maybe it wasn’t that bad.” Maybe the nightmare was just my imagination. Until I realize we forgot the milk.

Another link: This one is now on YouTube, my friends. So proud of my fellow Listen to Your Mother sisters for their performances. (And for your kindness as I had just wiped away the tears after hearing all of their amazing pieces before reading this.)

Sound familiar?

“Mom, I’m bored.”

“Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom.”

– “Yes.”

“I’m bored.”

Are your kids suffering from what I like to call, Suburban Summer Angst?

“Oh, the HORROR!” (And yes, I’m saying this in jest with a fake and very verklempt Rhode Island accent (the correct pronunciation in the RI Dictionary is, “Haaaaarwwwwwrrww-ah).

I mean, there’s nothing worse than BORED KIDS!

Frankly… it’s our summer mommy sanity on the line, right?

We literally just came back from vacation (sand still in my flip flops) and my kids are already starting with the “Mom, I’m bored.”

Don’t even get me started.

“There’s nothing to do, Mom.”

– “Go play, honey!”

“No one is home.”

– “Then play with your sister.”

“Really?”

“Sally can’t play and so and so is gone all summer long.”

– “Then call ____.”

“She’s not home either and there’s NOTHING to do.”

– “Nothing to do? I’ll give you something to do! In fact I’ll give you 25 things to do!”

I mean it too!

If you’re looking for some ideas to beat summer boredom, check out my latest Ask Mom Online RI column. https://onlineri.com/articles/ask_mom Enjoy! (For the love of mommy sanity…enjoy!) 😉

STOP COMPARING YOURSELF!

Do you compare yourself to other moms? Check out my Ask Mom OnlineRI column to read why it’s time for you to stop the mommy madness!

We all accidentally swear in front of our kids. You’ve done it. I’ve done it.

We all do it.

Shoot happens. But I will say, through the years, I’ve tried relentlessly to use substitute swear words in front of my kids. Unfortunately, when something happens that’s out of my control……I panic. I forget. I temporarily lose “mommy” control. And although I want the oh-so-satisfying profanities to release themselves into the wild, I catch myself. And I try NOT to say THAT eff-in WORD at the last minute.

For example:

* When I ran downstairs recently, took one wretched whiff and realized my dog had gone #2 loosely all over the family room rug, my kids heard me scream, then shout, “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhh

UUUUUUUGGGGAR.”

* When I burned myself on my daughter’s cute mini cupcake maker, (which I swear was modeled after Arrested Development’s illegal-in-the-U.S. Cornballer machine) my kids might hear: “HOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLL

LLYYYYYYYY

SHHHHHHHHH

HHHHHuuuugar” spew out of my mouth.

* When I hit my elbow (for the umpteenth time) on the corner of the kitchen counter, all they hear is:

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

uuuuuddddge.”

These words are incredibly lame. I know this. But they must be used….most of the time at least. Or else my children would think their mother is indeed a sailor.

Other favorite phrases in my house that my grandmother frowns at, but I think are passable for good parenting?

– “For the love of…… Christmas”

– “Dang it”

– “Jinkies”(Courtesy of Scooby Doo!)

– “Beetle juice”

– “Flippin'”

– “O M Goodness”

– “Mother of Pearl”

– “Praise Jeebus” (thanks to Homer Simpson)

– “Fahrvergnügen”

– “Holy Tamale”

– And my personal favorite…”Son of a……”

I’m not an idiot. I know my kids don’t live under a rock. I get that they recognize REAL swear words. They watch PG and PG-13 movies (from the 1980’s, mind you) sometimes. It’s all about the ear-muffs, right? When they hear a bad word, my husband and I will warn them, “Ear-muff it, kids. If you accidentally hear it, NEVER use that word”. And they jokingly cover their ears. (Foot note: This method of parenting is courtesy of Vince Vaughn’s role in the movie Old School, thank you very much.)

But as long as I am their mother, I will keep trying! Gosh help me, I will keep trying.

For the record, when my daughter started talking, she had a difficult time putting T and R together. As you may have guessed, almost everything beginning with T or TH winds up sounding like F. This is not a good thing for a variety of reasons. Every time she would see a fire truck, my youngest child would shout out the F word, (and I’m not talking about flippin) repeatedly, for everyone to hear. And all my substitute phrases, along with my mommy pride, would fly out the window. Son of a, holy, for the love of…Mother of PEARL!!

Attention Rhode Islanders: What happens if you use Del’s for something BESIDES frozen lemonade? Drawing a blank? Then you should check out this new book by two local ladies, Rhode Island Recipes! My copy just arrived in the mail and I’m so excited! My friend and fellow Rhody Blogger, Jennifer Leal, has co-authored this one-of-a-kind cookbook with another local culinary guru, Lydia Walshin. The result is a refreshing mix of delicious dishes using some of the state’s culinary souvenirs. We’re talking Little Rhody products like Iggy’s Clams, Dave’s Coffee Syrup, Wicked Natural and Olneyville’s N.Y. System Spices! So creative. So healthy. And so fun! Check it out here!

They didn’t mean to do it. They were just there. A box of donuts. Sitting on top of my fridge. The white cardboard box staring back at me, practically calling my name.

“Jackie,” it whispered as I stood in the kitchen, snacking on a carrot that was about as satisfying as a dab of toothpaste.

“You know you want one.”

My stomach was churning, but I refused to walk over.

A half dozen Allie’s donuts inside the box. Mocking me. A day after the doctor told me I had gained a few pounds. They weren’t meant for me. They were just a sweet gesture from my husband while he was in North Kingstown.

They were lined up with their cute frosted, sprinkled heads. Bright pink, blue and yellow. Darling AND delicious, like decorated Easter eggs. They were waiting for me to bite into their moist, chewy, doughy selves.

Having one of these donuts is not considered snacking. It’s like an out of body experience.

Something happens to you. You realize that if you could eat them all day (without blowing up and going into cardiac arrest), there would be no need for men. I adore my husband. But this stuff is… like… buttah.

I mean, when it comes down to it, all we really need in life (aside from our loved ones) are frosted mounds of dough with holes in the middle. Sure, place me on a treadmill. Give me a few rounds of Tylenol from the sugar high. Make me run around the block while holding a box.

The satisfaction you get from biting into these unbelievably sweet, but not disgustingly sugary hole-less dough-balls, is like something I simply can’t write out loud.

But, like I told you, I went to the doctor’s and found out that I’ve gained a few pounds over the past year. Not a good thing when you’re 42.  Not 22, sweet Ms. Swift. 42.

So I promised myself to cut back on certain things. No, I’m not going on a fast.  Unfortunately, I eat AROUND THE CLOCK and always have. I jog and do Pilates too.

But unfortunately, I tend to eat a little too much. Which has caused me to get that roll around the middle when I try to squeeze into last year’s jeans. And shorts. And anything without an elastic waistband. And yes, I have that “crack” problem when I bend down too far in jeans.

My problem is, my whole life, I’ve exercised AND had a fast metabolism. I’ve pretty much been able to eat whatever the heck I want. Until now.

Your metabolism at 42 is like watching a tortoise chase a Tootsie Roll. It’s so slow, it’s torturous.
I once when on a protein diet. My body was in agony after six hours. I cracked and had one slice of bread. One slice. I GAINED weight that very night.

I mean, really?

Oh, what happened to the box of donuts?

It’s in the recycle bin now. The donuts? They are long gone.

What? Who? Me?

Oh, I wanted them. I craved them like Gossip Girl craves her first Gucci bag.

But guess what?

I did not eat a single donut.

I snacked on an apple.

Then hard candy.

Then 18 chocolate chips.

With a shaky hand, I cut the decorative dough-balls into squares.

Then I placed them on a platter. Opened the sliding glass door.

And gave them to all the kids playing in my backyard.

Are you a stay-at-home-mom? Do you work outside the home? Do you work from home? Part-time? Full-time? Still trying to figure it out before your toddler wakes up?

Whatever you do, you’re a rock star. And I think you can relate to this mom who wrote in to my Ask Mom OnlineRI column with a dilemma that many mothers face: Should you quit your job? Look for another one?

And, how do we balance it all?

Please find my two cents here.

You get a headache. Then the pain, the pressure gets so intense, so gnarly, you fear that a vein might just pop out of your forehead. (Like Kimberly’s in that oh-so-memorable episode of Melrose Place back in 1995.)

So you take some Tylenol. Tell your kids you can’t play Uno, because Mommy doesn’t feel well. An hour goes by, and the pain doesn’t go away. So like a total mommy martyr, you try to go on with your day.

You do the laundry. The dishes. You take out the trash. Answer 25 emails. Plan a conference call. Approve a proof.

Then it hits you. This is no ordinary headache. You feel like a pile of donkey bombs.

Time to fake a smile and…when no one is looking, do the inevitable.

Grab your iPhone, lock yourself in the bathroom and………..

…oh yes…..Google your symptoms.

You type in, “Headache, fatigue, nausea, dizziness.”

57 different illnesses pop up. You are on page 1 of 25.

“Son of a..”

“Lyme disease.”

Oh my.

Son of a… that’s it. I whisper to myself, “I totally have Lyme disease.” (Sounding a lot like that woman in St. Elmo’s Fire.)

I take off my clothes and check for a tick, a bull’s eye rash. Anything.

Nada. Phew.

“Sinus headache.” Maybe that’s it. But there’s no mucus.

“Swine flu” NO.

“Flu.” But I’m not coughing. And my head doesn’t hurt there, it hurts HERE. Guuaaa.

“Appendicitis.” No pain there either. Thank God!

“Gastrointestinal virus.” All the symptoms add up, except for violent vomiting. I’m not puking, I just FEEL like puking.

Can’t be that. Or that.

Holy…no…not that either.

I pull out the thermometer.

I’m actually BELOW normal.

No one else on this beautiful earth except ME and all my female relatives has a regular temp of 97.1. It’s just not right.

I must be really, really bad. If I go to the doctor, he will probably laugh at me because I have no temp.

It must be my hormones. Or that pizza I had Friday night. But it’s MONDAY. Maybe it’s the water? Maybe I accidentally drank the plant water?

Wait, all of my symptoms show that it could it be, “Meningitis.”

I better make some calls.

But there’s no rash. Phew.

I call the doctor. He can’t get me in until later in the week.

Of course not.

I know me, and I am so going to be OK by the time the appointment comes.

Then one of those pop-up ads shows up. “Brain tumor.” And this is nothing to laugh at. But the pathetic part is I’m starting to get scared.

Everything that’s showing up in this Google search is starting to scare the Beetlejuice out of me. Plus, I’m actually starting to think I feel ALL of the symptoms listed, even though I’m lying down.  And I know for a fact that I’m not bleeding internally. Or vomiting. Or having a stroke.

So I take some Advil. I go to bed early.

And realize it was just a virus.

I promise myself to NEVER….EVER.. Google my symptoms again.

But I know I’ll do it. I totally will.

I know you know what I’m talking about.

Please don’t forget to give yourself a break this Mother’s Day. Whether you’re rockin’ a summer dress and heading out to brunch or staying in yoga pants as your kids serve you breakfast in bed, I hope you enjoy the day.

But, could you do me a favor? Could you please try not to do every little thing for everyone else, just this one day?

You know what I’m talking about.

Because you deserve it. And you can go back to doing it all the next day. And the next. And the next.

Do what you want and really try to enjoy the day.

Find out what mom REALLY wants this Mother’s Day in my latest AskMom OnlineRI.com column here.

This one’s for you, girls! XO

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! – Jackie

I’m still trying to come down from the natural high of being a part of the Listen to Your Mother Providence show. I feel like a second-grader waving goodbye as the last guest leaves my birthday party. There’s nothing left but deflated balloons, dented ribbons and a half-devoured birthday cake.

And a heart that burns.

Not from too much cake, but for the party to last a little longer.

Not for the presents, but for the present, to last…just a little bit longer.

I’m still reeling from the entire experience. Thirteen amazing women. All with a story to share. Original stories shared in celebration of motherhood. Of its struggles. Its highs, its lows, and everything in between. My mom and dad were so sweet, they flew in for the show! An early Mother’s Day gift!

And I got to see a ton of familiar faces, from my family to Rhody Blogger friends (Tera Norberg, Carina Aggor, Melissa Pezza, Jen Senecal, Chelley Martinka, Jodi Williston to name a few). I’m so grateful.

Today, I feel so sad to say goodbye to my show sistahs.

Together, we giggled. We cried. We laughed until we almost peed. From auditions to rehearsals, we shared our insecurities. Our worries. Funny vents. Silly side stories. Then show day, the butterflies. Natural remedies. The fears. The hairspray. And oh so much more. We gave motherhood a microphone.

We are friends 4-eva. We are LTYM sisters.

We got to be a part of something that was simply magical.

You know the saying, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts”?

When I think about the Listen to Your Mother show, this old (and not quite accurate saying) couldn’t be more true. (And yes, Kirsten, this made me think of you and your piece!)

The whole experience, from audition to final show, was so much greater than the sum of the parts. And each cast member, although amazingly talented on their own, shined a little brighter when we performed as a group. One presenter flowed to the next, sharing something different. Something special. A part of themselves. Even people from the audience could tell you that there was something wonderful…a roller-coaster of emotions (in a good way)…going on in that auditorium.

I just have to say a special thank you to all my show sisters, for their courage and tenacity. Their wisdom and words.

Thank you, (in no particular order) Kelly Baraf,  Jennifer Ciplet, Laura Rossi, Jessica Severson, Carla Molina, Alicia Kamm, Kirsten DiChiappari, Lauren Jordan, Stephanie Lazenby, Brianne DeRosa, Lexi Magnusson, Phyllis Kim Myung, and the poetic queen, Marian Kent.

Thank you, co-producers and co-directors, Laura Rossi and Carla Molina, for creating an incredible ensemble and experience, and for performing such memorable pieces too. And for seeing the real me, quirks, fast-talking, self-deprecating, whisper-yells and all. Thank you for giving me a chance to say my piece (and my peace) on stage. I love you all!

Listen to Your Mother Providence show co-producers and co-directors (and cast members), Laura Rossi and Carla Molina. My sistahs!

There’s nothing better than spending time with people who “get” you. Flaws and all. Women who make you laugh until you snort. And let you vent when you just need to get it out.

I’m so honored to have these kinds of friends, old AND new.

The women involved in Listen to Your Mother Providence may be “new” people in my life, but the connection we’ve made as part of this national reading series that takes place on May 4 feels like we’ve been friends for a long time.

Listen to Your Mother Providence takes place May 4 at 2 p.m. at the Providence Public Library.

I’m honored and humbled to be part of the inaugural Listen to Your Mother Providence show, an event taking place in 24 cities across the country that gives Mother’s Day a microphone. These women are so talented. So creative. And one of my sayings (especially since becoming a mother) is: “Girls may compete with one another, but women EMPOWER one another”. As far as this cast is concerned, it couldn’t be more true! This “empowerment” is clearly shown by the women behind the local show. Women I’m so grateful to have in my life, LTYM Providence co-producers and co-directors, moms and bloggers, Carla Molina Martins www.allofmenow.com and Laura Rossi Totten, www.laurarossipublicrelations.com.

I invite you to read my latest Ask Mom OnlineRI.com column to learn more about Listen to Your Mother, which takes place Saturday, May 4 at 2 p.m. at the historical Providence Public Library Auditorium. Tickets are still available and all the links are available here: OnlineRI.com Ask Mom

Join us in celebrating Mother’s Day a little early, in a new and “empowering” way!

Some dear friends and relatives have informed me that I need to not be afraid to toot my own horn. It’s hard when you do pr for others and then you have to talk about YOURSELF. (When all I really want to do is vent about mommy stuff, like the crack problem that emerges every time I bend down in my jeans. I know you know what I’m talkin’ about.) I’d like to mention that these wonderful friends and family members hardly ever go on Facebook, Twitter or LinkedIn. They don’t live under a rock, they’re just a little anti-social media. I still love them dearly…they just never see my Tweets. 😉

OKAY. So here it goes:

– An Award? You know how Ben Stiller’s parents in Meet the Fockers kept his 13th place ribbons and awards? I actually won something for real(z)! And it’s not 13th place! IT’S FIRST PLACE! No way? WAY! My book, How to Spread Sanity on a Cracker, took home a FIRST PLACE AWARD in the 2013 Great Southeast Book Festival! Woot Woot. Or Toot toot! Yes, I was very shocked, and very excited. I celebrated with a bowl of Hershey’s kisses and a couple Coronas. 

– Thursday, April 25 – I’m joining an array of local authors at Barnes & Noble in Warwick for a LOCAL AUTHORS Night! If you want to meet 12 authors in one place, you NEED to stop by! It starts at 6 p.m.! More details here!

– Saturday, May 4 – I’m honored to announce that I’m part of the Listen to Your Mother Providence cast. It’s a show, but not really. Because it’s a reading. Think Vagina Monologues without celebrities…and without the word “vaginas”. It’s a national reading series that gives Mother’s Day a microphone. Listen to Your Mother is featured in 24 cities across the country. I’ll be writing about it more soon. I’m honored that I made the cast for Providence’s inaugural show, May 4 at 2 p.m. at the Providence Public Library. I’m shocked, humbled and floored to be a part of this amazing cast. All I can say is bring a box of tissues and wear a mini-pad. You’ll be laughing and crying, laughing and crying for 90 minutes. More details and ticket info here!

I can’t believe it, but today my baby, my youngest, turns NINE.

Not 9 weeks or 9 months. But NINE years old. How can it be? Yesterday, she weighed less than 8 pounds. She was just a bun in the oven when we moved here. And now she’s almost as tall as my mother-in-law. (A sweet, petite thing, but still!) OK, so she may choose fancy T-shirts over Fancy Nancy sticker books, soccer balls over Sponge Bob and she may not suck her thumb any more. But she’s still my youngest.

Thankfully, she still likes her mother. (When she’s not getting a talking-to.) As long as I’m not dancing to Madonna or doing football cheers in front of her, she still likes her mom. But, my baby is growing up. And it’s wonderful and worrisome all at the same time. (I’m going to have a tough time when she turns 13, let me tell ya.) I’m so proud of my girl. She’s independent, funny and strong. But I’m having a really hard time seeing her get so big so fast. Happy number 9, S!