This weekend, my husband and I will be celebrating our 17^th wedding anniversary. Yes, I married my high school sweetheart (who makes me laugh every day) 17 years ago. How can it be that 17 years have gone by when we often talk about how we still feel like we’re 17? (Minus the wrinkles, back fat and the fact that we go to bed at 10 p.m., about the time all the “young people” head out.) In celebration of a special occasion, I wanted to share an excerpt from my book, How to Spread Sanity on a Cracker. This is a mommy whine of my very own and a cheese dip from a talented mom. I hope you enjoy it!

An excerpt from How to Spread Sanity on a Cracker:

VENTING 12: Chopped Broccoli and Vagina Tales

WHINE: Vagina Tales from Jackie

It happens nearly every time we get together with other couples. After dinner and a few glasses of wine, we women gradually end up three rooms away from our husbands and start swapping birth stories. Men will brag about their college drinking days, and the women will go on and on about giving birth. I know my husband is sick of me sharing my vagina tales, but I pushed two human beings into this world, so I believe that entitles me to have bragging rights for the rest of my life. It’s an inevitable topic. Had I done whiskey shots while riding on a roller coaster without puking, maybe I’d brag about that, too. After all, nobody tells you what really happens during childbirth. Sure—there are books, doulas, classes, and birthing coaches. But until you go through it yourself, it’s like trying to learn how to drive a car without getting behind the wheel. It’s not even close. My husband and I went through birthing classes together; we watched the films, practiced breathing, and he placed his hands in a bowl of ice for 10 minutes along with me. It hurt like hell and I whined like a baby, but before I knew it, it was over and we were sitting comfortably in a restaurant in downtown Seattle nibbling on pad Thai. Needless to say, I had a tough time delivering my first child. No one told me it would feel like I had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler and would have to wear maxi pads the size of Texas for six weeks. But after it was over, I was in full-blown honeymoon stage, holding this unbelievable child that looked like ET’s little brother. I was in love. And I thought we were in the clear, until we brought him home.

CHEESE: HOT BROCCOLI DIP from Rebeca at the Average Parent

My top recipe for this year is Hot Broccoli Dip, which is a variation of a recipe I found through Cabot. It’s very similar to spinach dip, with a few differences that can really make it stand out at any party.

Ingredients:

1 (10-ounce) package of frozen chopped broccoli

8 ounces of Cabot Seriously Sharp Cheddar, Vintage Choice

Cheddar, or other premium extra sharp cheddar, grated

4 ounces of cream cheese

1 cup of parmesan cheese (add more to taste, if desired)

½–1 teaspoon of garlic powder (to taste)

½ teaspoon of crushed red pepper flakes

Place frozen broccoli in microwave-safe bowl; cover loosely with plastic wrap and microwave until hot and tender, about 9 minutes (do not add any water). Mash broccoli with potato masher until large chunks are gone. Add cheddar, cream cheese, parmesan cheese, garlic powder, and pepper to bowl. Cover again and microwave just until cheeses are melted, 1 to 2 minutes longer. Stir until smooth. (If mixture seems thin, it will thicken upon cooling.) Serve with crackers.

Here’s the thing with me and the holidays. I adore my family and the holidays. But I tend to get a little frazzled. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy getting together with family and friends, decorating the tree, shopping for cute gift wrapping, going to cookie exchange parties and even putting jingle bells on my puppy. I love snowball fights with my kids and racing inside for hot cocoa with mounds of whipped cream. (Just like the hot chocolate Mr. Flanders makes for Bart in the Simpson’s Movie. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s a must-see scene.)  I have the best of intentions when it comes to thinking about Christmas shopping. I start a list in my head and get all excited. I write down ideas. I daydream about everyone opening their gifts with huge smiles on their faces. Like something out of a PB catalog, but there are real people in my family room, not just models hanging stockings with first names like Collins and Walker stitched on. It’s not that I hate shopping. Give me a couple hours in a downtown department store with girlfriends and I can literally shop until I drop. OK, so a few hours will go by and I’m shaking because I need some food (and maybe chocolate Santas and Green tea). We’ll stop, eat and shop again. But the real problem renders its ugly head the moment I start second guessing myself with my choices.

Do these inner holiday-shopping thoughts sound familiar?

“Do I want to buy this for ME or her?”

“She’ll never find out that I got one for myself too. Or will she? Oh crap.”

“Didn’t I buy this last year?’

“Is this too much? or not enough?”

“Will he REALLY like this, or will he give me THAT look when he opens it?”

“Come on, you can DO this. Don’t buy a gift card. Don’t buy a gift card.”

“Maybe he would appreciate a gift card?”

Enough already! Why can’t we host a White Elephant gift exchange like I do with my girlfriends where we literally pick items from around the house (or re-gift lame gifts) and swap them over wine and cheese? We giggle the night away. I received booty enhancer pads one year (no idea who gave them to my friend first) and almost died laughing.  I honestly enjoy it. I would carry on this tradition in our home, but it obviously wouldn’t work when the kids are waiting for Santa to come to town with real gifts. We do Secret Santa gift exchanges on both sides of our family, but there are still people that I give gifts to every year, no matter what. And they are the ones that are the hardest to buy for! I just want them to know I care – even if what I found at the mall (on a full bladder) is so going in the back of their closet this time next year.

I’ll calm down. After a few hot chocolates, I’ll pull myself together and focus. I can always do most of my holiday shopping online. Thankfully, I do realize it’s the thought that counts. Even if I accidentally throw a couple items in my size in the online shopping cart, it IS the thought that counts. 😉

This Thanksgiving, all I could focus on was hosting a dinner for 14 people that would not turn out like something from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. (Featuring a turkey so dry, it would implode on itself.) My brother, his wife and their three adorable boys flew in from Denver for the big day, and our kids had a non-stop-week-with-cousins extended slumber party.  I prepared all the sides and desserts in the days before so that everything would go off without a hitch.

A half hour before everyone arrived, I race upstairs to put on a cute black skirt and under eye concealer to mask the fact that I only had four hours of sleep and a slight hangover. I decided to slap on Spanx too because I was feeling a little flabby and bloated. I pulled the bird out of the oven and I’m happy to say it was so beautiful, so juicy, so moist, I wanted to dress the bird in a tuxedo and show it off in a parade. But we ended up carving it down and dove into it and some pretty tasty sides. All of the sides. (Yes, I had a little bit of everything on my plate.) Fifteen minutes into dinner, I realize I can hardly breathe. I take a sip of my drink, thinking it’s just my imagination. But I can’t ignore the pressure. The Spanx have practically cut off my circulation. Like a rubber band on a balloon, the Spanx did nothing more than push my belly flab from one area to another. And my slightly-too-small skirt is smack in the middle. There is such an obvious line where the Spanx ends and my upper belly begins, if I burped into the candle and cranberries centerpiece I had worked so hard on, I might set the table on fire. I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, trying desperately to remove the apparatus that is causing this dinner-time dilemma. I successfully slide the Spanx off of my belly, down my legs and over my boots, but realize I can’t leave the bathroom without them in my hands. I sneak out, hiding them behind my back. “Babe, is everything OK?” my husband asks. “Yes, everything’s just fine.” I put on a fake smile, run to the family room and shove the Spanx in the front closet.

Finally, I find my way back to my seat. I sit down and feel a sense of release. Literally.  As if a mountain of bloat has been freed from under my skirt. My muffin top has found its way back to where it belongs. Behind the table cloth. And so I did what any sane host would do at this point. Serve pie, say yes to seconds and enjoy the day Spanx-less with my wonderful family.

Happy Thanksgiving! Whether you’re hosting an army this Thursday or bringing a store-bought pie to a small gathering, I hope you have a fabulous holiday! Because It’s Thanksgiving week, I wanted to do what we in the mom-blogosphere refer to as a “Thankful Thursday” post where we list a few things we’re thankful for in our lives.

I have family coming into town in a matter of hours, and for whatever reason, when relatives visit, I tend to get a little neurotic about making sure everything in my house looks better than it usually does. For example, I just re-vacuumed the entire house, only to have my dog and my kids track in more leaves behind me. I feel sorry for my husband because when he sees me like this, it drives him crazy, which makes me even more neurotic. At this point, it is what it is. Three nephews under 10 + my kids + my dog + tons of other relatives= a zoo by the time I pull the (please-be-juicy-and-fabulous) turkey out of the oven.

I’m praying for a pleasant visit filled with happy, healthy kids & adults, blurred vision for those passing any unkempt corners and a dog that doesn’t jump or hump anyone until Saturday.

And I digress. There are so many things to be thankful for this year!

#1 I’m thankful for my family. I’m grateful for my husband who makes me laugh every day and actually enjoys folding his own laundry.

#2 I’m thankful for my third grader and sixth grader. And I’m SO relieved that I don’t have to go through sixth grade again. Although I had a lot of friends, I had no idea at the time that I was pretty much the female version of Farmer Ted in the movie 16 Candles.

#3 I’m thankful that I did most of my food shopping ahead of time so that I don’t have to wait in the check out line with four elderly couples who brought a shoebox full of expired coupons.

#4 I’m thankful for my friends who even with a single text or email, have the power to transform my mood and make me laugh so hard, I often need to run to the little girls’ room.

#5 I’m thankful for my mom and dad. They are wonderful people who raised me to be a caring individual and I’m happy they will be celebrating Turkey Day in Florida or else I would be even more neurotic trying to make everything perfect for their visit. 😉

#6 I’m thankful for online shopping. I don’t have the patience to shop the Black Friday deals in person this year. Going to the grand opening of Nordstrom Rack with friends was awesome, but after 40, crowds are even more annoying. Plus I plan to eat enough food on Thursday to erase any progress I’ve been making with Pilates and jogging, so I’ll need to trot off my turkey (and multiple servings of pies, veggies, potatoes, casseroles, rolls, cranberry sauce and sandwiches) that day.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I’m thankful for many things. But on this particularly rainy day, I’m thankful that I was able to sneak in a Jane Fonda-style workout before everyone else wakes up. It didn’t start out this way. I got up, went downstairs, stuck my toes outside and could tell it was too rainy to go for a jog with my dog. My dog looked at me like I had just taken away his girlfriend. (Which just so happens to be the shag rug bean bag chair we have in the basement.) I know, I know, but my dog is very fond of this piece of furniture right now. He once started “going to town” when my kids were around and I was mortified. “Mom, what’s he doing?” my daughter asked. “Dancing honey. He’s just dancing,” I said, as I yanked the bean bag from under him. See, the dog smells up the house something awful when he’s wet. It’s not the rain as much as the puddle-jumping, splashing and rolling in the mud that gets me. It doesn’t matter if I dry him off with a towel and a hair dryer, the house still smells like an Old Folks Home in August.

And I digress.  Although I wanted to just take a shower and get going with my day, (and shove down a Cinnamon Roll) I knew I needed a work out so I resorted to doing what I do best on rainy days when I don’t have time to hit the gym. Working out in the basement. Yes, I feel like a character in a horror film at first, heading down the stairs in the pitch black, waiting for the Haddington crazed man to get me. It may be 5:50 a.m., but it feels like midnight on Halloween. Then I crank on all the lights, some music (or an upbeat, non-horror show like “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” on Netflix) and start doing exercises and having my own private Jane Fonda “feel the burn” party. The best part is, it’s much too early and way too dark for anyone to see my 1980’s oh-help-me-if-they-come-back-in-style headband, off-the-shoulder-because-it-was-so-on-sale-and-now-it’s-too-big t-shirt and running shorts. Only my dog, who happens to be shooting me a look of both guilt and embarrassment, can see me. So it’s all OK now. I’m waking up. I’m moving. I’m burning calories. I’m doing leg lifts. And I’m hanging out with my dog. By this time, he has plopped himself on the floor, looking up at me every now and then just to make sure I’m aware that he’s still horrified and disappointed. He closes his eyes and takes a nap. Lots of jogging, arms lifts here and leg lifts there, and I’m done. Would you look at that, puppy? Mom was able to sneak in a 30-minute workout! And I still have time for a shower before anyone else gets up. It’s little things like this (and the fact that only my dog has seen me in my “Oh-What-A-Feelin’-Flash-Dance” ensemble) that makes this mom happy.

In honor of Veterans Day, I’m doing something this week that I rarely do ­­– observing a moment of silence. Taking some quiet time in their honor. I know it’s hard to imagine, but it’s for something close to my heart. My grandfather fought in two wars and survived Pearl Harbor. He was an amazing man and went through more than anyone in our family could ever comprehend. As a kid, you hear war stories from your grandfather and then jump back on your Huffy, because it’s too much to take in. Can you imagine trying to tell your children today? When you really stop and think about what veterans go through, it’s mind-boggling. And not only their sacrifices, but the emotional roller coaster endured by their mothers. Can you imagine sending a child off to war? Your own child? Our mother’s mothers, our grandmother’s mothers and even our grandmother’s grandmothers went through so much, it’s overwhelming.

I hope you can take a moment to reflect on those in your life who have served and thank them in your own way this week. Whether it’s buying one of those little red flowers from the sweet man in uniform behind the card table at the grocery store, reading a book to your kids, watching a documentary or even taking a road trip and visiting a monument. No matter what you do, take some time in their honor.

While watching all the election coverage over the past few months, something hit me. I’m not going to get into the particulars of political issues or who won this race and who lost that one. (I congratulate all the candidates. After all, it’s not polite to talk politics at the dinner table, girls! That’s what the networks are for.) But I made a mom-to-mom observation that I had to share. After all was said, spent and done, I realize that we as moms have something ridiculously obvious in common with political candidates. Even the ones with chest hair and receding hairlines. These candidates have experienced a level of sleep deprivation over the past several months that only a mother can understand. (Those of you who had babies that slept through the night since birth, please, it’s not that I don’t think you’re a good mom, but kindly leave the room.) These candidates spent countless months preparing for the election just as we prepared for the birth of our babies. Whether it’s violent morning sickness (in office trash cans) or negative ad campaigns that force people you thought were your friends to turn on you, we endured. Lying awake night after night, preparing for the due date. (Or Election Day.) Getting rest in between ugly debates and painful trimesters, we endured. Knowing that win or lose, the day would come. Regardless of how long the labor or campaigning, there would be an end result.

As a new mother, when I woke to a crying baby at 1:30 a.m. and 4 a.m. and had to roll into the office the next day, I felt like I had been hit by a George Foreman Grill by the time the alarm clock went off. (I soon realized there was no need for an alarm clock. I had the real thing!) I had to eat enough carbs to feed a family of five and drink three cups of tea just to get through lunch time. Imagine doing a campaign speech on three hours of sleep? And if you made a mistake, it would be recorded live and played over and over for hundreds, sometimes millions of people to see? Running to the office on four hours of sleep was a norm, so Ibuprofen and tea were my BFFs. I can only imagine how much coffee and tea the candidates consumed just to keep going every day.

In the days following the 2012 Election, I hope all the candidates, their volunteers and families get some much needed rest. (Before moving on with their lives.) Just as you relished the time a relative offered to visit so you could hide in your room, hug your pillow and hand over the baby (and baby bottle) for a few precious hours of mommy time. (Glorious mommy sanity.) Yes, win or lose, giggle or gurgle, there is nothing more sacred than sleep!

My kids are getting excited for trick-or-treating this Halloween. My son is going as a football player. One New England Patriots NFL jersey, Gronk mask, jeans and sneakers = One happy 11-year-old. Check. Done and done. Then there is my little girl. It seems like just yesterday when she wanted to be a princess for Halloween. I’d hand her a tiara and pink tu tu from the back of the closet and she’d run up and give me a hug. She went as an alien last year with spooky eyes that lit up. (It freaked me out, but I got used to it by the time we put it in the attic where I swear it still glows.) This year, she decided that she wanted to be a scary ghost. Scary being the operative word, given that she did not like my I’m-so-turning-into-my-mother idea of taking a white sheet and poking two holes in it. I actually have faded sheets that deserve to be destroyed, so this would have killed two birds with one stone, thank you very much. But no. That would have been too easy. My independent daughter asked us if she could please buy a ghost costume, and because we could tell she knew what she wanted, off to the party store we went.

“This mask hurts,” was all we could hear in the first aisle. Same for the second and third. We had a little “talk” with her in aisle four, hoping to bring her expectations down a few levels. Surely she would find something ghostly that would satisfy her Halloween costume expectations in the next 10 minutes. Three stores and 13 aisles later, she found a mask that was both spooky and comfortable. Yes, my daughter is wearing the mask from the movie Scream with a black robe. It scares the living daylights out of me every time I see it. Before leaving for our neighborhood Halloween parade a few days ago, she “surprised” me by our front door. Let’s just say I let out a scream that sounded a little too much like Mr. Flanders from the Simpsons.

What are you doing with your leftover Halloween candy? Try this recipe on for size! And don’t forget to send in your post-holiday dessert recipe here. It could be in my next book!

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Halloween Ogre Toe Cookies
(Inspired by a recipe from Kraft and 1001 Recipes to Send!)

2/3 cup granulated sugar
1 pkg. (3 oz.) lime flavored gelatin
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups of flour
20 red gummy candies
Pre-heat oven to 350°F.

Beat butter and sugar until creamy. Add flour and dry gelatin mix. Roll dough into 20 toe-shaped pieces; place, 2 inches apart, on baking sheet. Flatten one end of each “toe”. Use knife to make crosswise slits in each toe for the knuckles. Flatten candies with rolling pin. Place candy on flattened end of each green toe.
BAKE 10 to 12 min. or until edges are lightly brown. Cool on baking sheet for five minutes.

Have a safe and Happy Halloween!

It’s Hurricane hibernation time here in the Hennessey household and thankfully, we still have our health, our home, our power, (and our sanity). Before I devour all the snacks (and meals) I prepared in case we lose power, I wanted to squeeze in a quick post. (I do realize I’d be the first one voted off Survivor island because I tend to overeat when stressed, so sue me.) Seriously, I hope you stay safe through the storm. If you’re looking for fun and easy ways to help keep the kids busy, here are a handful of our family’s storm-time traditions:

1. Flashlight family story time. Materials needed: One flashlight and lots of imagination.

One person holds the flash light & starts a story. The first passes the flashlight to the next person, who then continues the story, and on and on it goes. We’ve had our share of nearly-pee-in-your-pants plot-building times with our kids. Their brains are like sponges. It’s a cute way for kids to express their imagination! No matter where their story leads, this can be quite a riot for everyone.

2. “Blind man” sketching. Materials: A pencil and piece of paper.

We invented this fun craft recently with our kids when we knew they needed to turn off the television and fast. Start with a plain piece of paper, fold it vertically into as many sections as there are people in your household. (Not counting pets, sorry pooch.) For four people: The first person draws a face, the second a body, the next legs, the last shoes. Make sure each section is hidden from the other. The result is a hilarious looking sketch of a human, with special touches (and sketches) from every member of your family.

3. Fort time. Materials: Sheets, blankets, pillows, hockey sticks, you name it.

Have the kids build a fort around you. This one can take hours and helps when you need to do some work or stay glued to your phone for severe weather alerts.

4. Family Olympics. Materials: Board games, playing cards, checkers.

Drum up some fun Family Olympic-style competition to help keep everyone busy. Start with easy games like Tic-Tac-Toe, Hang Man and checkers. Make sure the games are age appropriate. The winner plays the next person, and on and on it goes. We enjoy friendly matches of balloon volley ball tossing, air hockey, War, Connect Four, Life, Stratego and when the power comes back on, iPad Wheel of Fortune. (Big money, big money.)

Have fun and stay safe!

Are you a procrastinator? If you’re planning to read this post later or “when you have time,” get over yourself. (Check your Facebook page first, right?!) They actually have a Facebook group for procrastinators. Go figure. (As if I have time to sign up for that group when I’m too busy bantering with my other 400 FB friends.) https://www.facebook.com/groups/2200058888/?ref=ts&fref=ts

Before having kids, I was a professional procrastinator. I put off things that I deemed “not necessary” until the last minute. The laundry, the lawn, cleaning the bathroom toilet. (I even put off buying my first bra at 14. Not that I really needed one. I’d like to say THANK YOU to the person who invented the padded bra by the way.) And I digress. Lucky for me, I launched my career in a deadline-focused field. Journalism. I’d have no problem conducting interviews and meeting article deadlines, but everything else fell on the backburner and could have ended up on an episode of Clean Sweep had I not married my best friend who is ridiculously organized and on time for EVERYTHING. (He helped ship me into better shape over the years – thanks honey!) As a freelance writer, when I had a long deadline, I’d find myself sitting in front of a blank computer screen, with pimples forming from writer’s block. I’d end up washing dishes, scrubbing the toilet with a toothbrush and doing five loads of laundry. (And writing the article the night before it was due, of course.) Give me a three-hour deadline, and I’d have it done in two hours flat. When I became a mom, I didn’t have time to think about putting anything off – I was in survival mode. Do or be darned. Feed the baby. Burp the baby. Bathe the baby. Hold the baby. Shower. Drop off baby. Work all day. Rinse and repeat. With an active baby – I was lucky to fit in a layer of deodorant into my day.

Through the years, the things I used to procrastinate about have faded away, making me feel a little better about myself. (I’m no Rachel Ray, but I do try.) Unfortunately, some things have still fallen to the wayside. Let’s just say I now have 1,789 photos of my daughter stored conveniently and digitally in my computer, and until a month ago, one quarter of a photo album to show for it. (My first born has two albums FILLED.) One year, I attended two scrapbooking sessions hosted by a friend, bought crafty supplies and have been putting it off ever since. I believe this was five, maybe six pathetic years ago. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Am I a bad mother because I don’t like to scrapbook? Let’s see – tending to the kids, laundry, dishes, deadlines, meetings, volunteering OR starting a scrapbook. I consider myself a creative person. I’ve conducted conference calls while simultaneously folding four loads of laundry and feeding a play-date party of five. But a talented scrap-bookkeeper I am not. Recently, my husband and I hosted our own version of Clean Sweep, and cleaned out the attic, the garage and our kids’ rooms. We found a TON of our daughter’s old PRINTED baby pictures and put them in a cute album that I swear I purchased the same year she was born. It’s not winning any awards, but it’ll do. As long as she’s not expecting to see a craft store aisle pop off the pages, it’ll do just fine.

As a mom, do you get stressed out easily? What stresses you out? Your job? Your kids? (Not that you don’t adore them, but the fact that being a mom can cause any woman to get a wee overloaded.) Your spouse? Your friends? Life in general? Oh, and trying desperately to maintain a healthy balance regardless of whether you’re a stay-at-home mom, full-time working mom or a work-from-home mom? When I get stressed, I exercise…..and stress-eat. I know, I know. But this is how I deal. Now, my form of “mommy sanity” exercise often equates to nothing more than a low-impact jog with my dog a few times a week or taking a Pilates class here and there. It works for me. And, after exercising, I enjoy eating a balanced meal. And then stress eating. I’m talking about indulging in healthy doses of chocolate. It could be brownies, cake, candy, chocolate covered almonds or even Death by Chocolate Cake. Any form will do. I find chocolate really helps me stay in control. Unfortunately, when I indulge in too much of the stuff, I have a tendency to suffer from a lack of sleep. And when I don’t get enough sleep, I get grouchy and want more chocolate the next day. This hamster-in-a-wheel way of dealing with stress is my way of telling the world, “I realize my system may seem crazy to you, but it’s how this mother stays sane.” 😉

Did you know that chocolate is actually good for you? (As long as you don’t over-do it like I do.) A recent study of 8,000 male Harvard graduates reveals that chocoholics live longer than those who go without! There are some other fun facts about chocolate on this web site: http://www.chocolate.org/

Check it out and enjoy! And please don’t forget to send in your mommy insanity stories and dessert recipes to jackie@ventingsessions.com. Your story or recipe could be in my next book!

I’m no Alice, but I do windows. I do laundry. I mop. I sweep. I do dishes at least twice a day. But there is one household chore that I procrastinate about every year. It gives me the chills just thinking about it. When was the last time you cleaned your kid’s room? Not just vacuuming. Not just dusting the bookshelf. But really giving it a good spring cleaning. And when you finally clear your schedule and get down to it, how does it make you feel? Satisfied? Accomplished? Like Betty Draper? Utterly shocked and mortified? How about “All of the Above”. When I recently ventured into my little girl’s room, I saw things that scared the Beetle Juice out of me. Moldy wrappers. Missing socks. Stuffed animals. Stuffed animal clothing. Doll hair. Doll hair stuck to dog fur, wrapped in God knows what. When I saw a pair of old shoes shoved inside a bag that holds my daughter’s sleeping bag that was also missing for months, I nearly lost it. How can a child that makes her own bed every day (and make a room APPEAR so neat and tidy) hide so many little things inside boxes, drawers and under the bed? While my other child blatantly keeps an unmade bed for everyone to see? When I found three chocolate Santas inside a jewelry box, along with price tags and packages for earrings that are clearly missing, I did what any parent can do at this point. I started laughing so hard, I nearly tinkled in my jeans. Then I pulled out the trash can and started purging everything. I gave some things to charity. And other items to a neighbor who is two sizes smaller. Getting rid of that stuff is like enjoying the results of a juicing without having to fast!

Do you like to host playdates? Would you consider yourself a playdate whore? If not, you could be missing out. It’s raining out today and my daughter has a friend over. My son does too. (Two reasons why I’m able to write this without….) Actually, I just had to grab crafts for the girls. No, wait, they want a game. Now more crafts from the top shelf. And a snack. And drinks. (My son and his friend are still in the basement, happy as two pigs in poop playing video games.)

Here are 16 reasons why YOU should consider becoming a playdate whore:

1. Hosting a playdate means your kids are BUSY.
2. They are not watching television.
3. They are out of your hair.
4. You won’t have to hear the words, “I’m bored” escape their adorable mouths for at least an hour.
5. They don’t need to rely on you for every inch of entertainment.
6. You don’t have to hear: “Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom” every 10 minutes. (If you watch Family Guy, you can add “Mum, mum, mum, mum, mum, Lois, Lois Lois, Lois, Lois, Lois, Lois, Lois, Lois”.)
7. It means you can call your girlfriend, husband, mom, neighbor, aunt, sister, grandmother, brother, mother-in-law or any adult human being and carry on an adult conversation without being interrupted every five seconds with #6.
8. You can catch up on work.
9. See #2
10. Your kids are using their IMAGINATION. Although this may not apply to boys over the age of 11, as they throw the football, play XBox in the basement and snack on cheese crackers, keep in mind # 2 and # 9.
11. Because of #1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6, you can actually FOLD and PUT AWAY the six loads of laundry that has piled up in your laundry room. Even while doing #7!
12. You can…. do the dishes (while eating chocolate chips over the sink).
13. You can…start on dinner (while eating chocolate chips over the sink).
14. You can…vacuum (or not).
15. You can check in on them, but avoid being too overbearing, because you need to get back to #7, #8, #11. #12, #13 and #14.
16. You can participate in the playdate, as I’ve done for years (from being the craft master to baking cookies). But through the years, I’ve come to appreciate #1-#15. After all, I am a playdate whore, right?