When I first created an account on Pinterest years ago, I did what everyone else on Pinterest does. I feverishly crafted an online dream board of everything I was going to do to make myself better. The gourmet recipes I would cook. The design ideas to spruce up the house. The life hacks that would make cleaning and organization a breeze. The crafts I would do with my kids (*cough* yeah, right *cough*). And because a better version of me certainly included a svelt body, I made a board for exercise routines. But even the all-powerful state of Pinterest delusion, the one that makes us truly think we will ever come back to those pins and actually DO something with them, couldn’t work it’s voodoo on my fitness goals. Because right off the bat, I named the board, “Exercise…Let Me Get Right On That.” (Sarcasm totally intended.) Continue reading “How Exercise Got Personal: The Hair Tie That Changed The Game”
There are many people in this world I have tried to emulate, but I never thought Dora the Explorer would be one of them. Yet, that is exactly who I am about to channel, at the risk of sending half of my readers running from their computers (because, duh, kids shows are annoying).
So you know how good old Dora is always asking your kids to help her get someplace like Carnival Town to deliver piñata cookies to the Big Red Chicken? And all along the way she wants your kids to count the hills they need to climb. Or yell “Swiper, no swiping!” to keep that sneaky fox from stealing Dora’s talking backpack, filled with random things that would never be useful on any normal voyage, but somehow get her out of the strangest of pickles? Well, according to Dora, she couldn’t complete any of those adventures without your kids. I usually call her bluff on that. Last time I checked, she still made it past that grumpy old troll even when my kids failed to count to five in Spanish. Continue reading “I Have Become Dora the Explorer: Help Me Please”
I have a secret admirer…who is not so secret. Look at what I received in the mail over the weekend:
It may appear to simply be an autographed head shot of one Micky Dolenz of The Monkees. However, this was an UNSOLICITED autographed head shot of one Micky Dolenz of The Monkees. As in, I did not request or purchase this. It just appeared in my mailbox over Valentine’s weekend.
Continue reading “I Think I Might Finally Be a Celebrity Girlfriend.”
This week for the Remember the Time Blog Hop we are talking about our first day of school. Any grade or stage will do. AND I have a guest co-host this week, Rob from Growing Up On Prytania. Rob’s blog is a perfect fit for the blog hop, as he has a very distinct “Wonder Years” feel to all of his writing. In fact, I can practically hear Daniel Stern narrating his posts as a grown-up Kevin Arnold. So please make sure to visit Rob’s blog here, and give him an RTT high-five!
After reading Rob’s blog, head over to see my usual partner-in-crime, Continue reading ““That” Pitcher”
Don’t get too comfortable. In fact, just keep your coat on. Because I’m going to be sending you somewhere else today.
I’m taking a break this week from the Remember the Time Blog Hop, and I have asked the very talented, very charming, very kind Dawn at Tales From the Motherland to step in as the co-host. I know she will take good care of my blog hoppers along with Miss Emily at The Waiting, Continue reading “I’m Sending You On a Little Trip”
For this week’s Remember the Time Blog Hop, we are writing about imaginary friends. A big thanks to That Cynking Feeling for the suggestion! Seriously. Last week, Emily and I stared at each other over Skype and pulled one of these: What do you want to write about?…I don’t know, what do you want to write about?…I can’t think of anything. I’ll write about whatever you want to write about…I don’t care either…Do you see where I’m going with this? We’re not idea machines, people. So we welcome your suggestions. Continue reading “Imagination Could Not Have Created a Better Friend”
Shut it down, folks. There’s nothing more to see here.
The other day, a friend of mine was asking me how I keep up my blogging pace (which in comparison to many bloggers, two posts a week is pretty measly). She wondered if I had a stockpile of pre-written posts. While I have had grand plans of that for some time, it’s just not how I work. I guess I thrive on pressure in a way. What I DO have is little notes or beginnings of blogs that I write down when ideas pop into my head. But sometimes, Continue reading “It’s Time to Close the Internet. Everything Has Already Been Written.”
I am not a big fan of my nose, which is probably why I am a closeted nosy person.
By nature, I am nosy. I like knowing what is going on with people. I love getting some good scoop. I am happy to quickly agree to keep information “just between you and me” in exchange for some highly classified gossip. The problem is, I just really suck at being nosy to get this information in the first place.
You could call it a struggle between the angel and devil on my shoulders. You could applaud me for resisting the temptation to pry in favor of taking the high road. But the honest truth is that I am hardly ever “in the know” because I am usually either plain old forgetful or just plain chicken. In most situations, I will decline snooping into someone’s business because I am deathly afraid of offending people, or I worry that I don’t have the correct social graces to properly react to whatever salacious answer I might get. In other cases, I simply forget to ask how someone’s mom is doing or how the job hunt is going…not because I don’t care, but because those questions are not written down in my planner, which is the only way I remember anything.
But my lack of snooping skills doesn’t keep me from wondering. So now that I am thinking of it, I would like to take this opportunity to be nosy.
Who are YOU??
I am often curious about my readers, especially as I have been slowly gaining new followers. Some of you I know personally (hi, mom!); some of you I have gotten to know through interactions in the comments section or by reading your blogs. But most of you are simply known to me as “the number of views” on my stats page or the “number of Facebook shares” at the bottom of each post. I would like to know a little about you.
Where are you from? Do you have kids? What do you do for a living? Do you also blog? What is an interesting fact about you? Do you share my affinity for random references to the 80’s or early 90’s? Do you have any parenting tips that work really well for you? Do you know of any cool books I might like to read? Are you interested in forming a support group for women who were unsuspecting victims of a Chuck E. Cheese pick up line?
So let’s dish. I promise to keep it between you and me…and anyone else who happens to read this blog. I’m really hoping I come to have at least 298 comments on this post, as that is the exact number of followers I have to date. And now that we know each other a little, I would love you even more than I already do for even reading my blog if you would take a minute or so to share my blog. 298 followers is really just begging to be 300. I will even sweeten the deal: if I can get at least 22 new followers (bringing the total to a nice round 320) in the next week between email subscriptions, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and WordPress, I will begin working on a new original music video as a follow-up to “My Van Is Stacked” for your viewing pleasure. I have no idea what will result from it, but I can promise my kids will again bring their smooth moves to the project.
I have been hogging the conversation for way too long. Please, tell me more about you. And remember…the bigger this party becomes, the more of this you have to look forward to:
I survived my first (and likely only) fan convention.
Last summer I posted about my excitement after my husband bought me a ticket to the Davy Jones Memorial Monkees Convention in Newark, New Jersey for our anniversary. Three days of all Monkees, all the time. At first, this sounded wicked awesome. Yet as time went by, I began to become a bit leery. I may be the biggest Monkee fan that anyone who has met me has ever known, but put me up against other Monkee fans, and I Continue reading “How to Enjoy MonkeeCon on $5 a Day”
I have decided it is time to diversify. Mix it up. Share the limelight. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the very first “Are You Finished Yet?’ Guest Blog Post, written by author Maggie Singleton. She is a very good friend of mine, so please don’t embarrass me. Mouths closed, “reading eyes” open, and give her your full attention.
Caring for Your Enginerd by Maggie Singleton
Kelly and I have been friends for nearly four years now. Sure, we have bonded through watching our mini-me firstborns move on from preschool to elementary school; and we have also bonded through slowly but surely finding our way as writers and bloggers; but there is something ever more central that bonds us like epoxy: our beloved enginerds.
“Enginerd” is a term Kelly coined a few years back to describe her husband—a combination of intelligent person possessing nerd-like qualities who can still uphold a relatively decent conversation. That pretty much describes my enginerd, too. I’m sure you know the type…the guys who can be found reading Popular Science or working a Rubik’s cube challenge for fun at any given moment. You see, it’s more than a career for the enginerd; it’s a mindset.
Now some of the traits I’m about to describe may sound general to half the population; but forgive me for not knowing the difference. My dad was an enginerd; his dad was an enginerd; most of Andy’s close friends are enginerds; heck, even some of my friends are married to enginerds or are enginerds themselves. I’m surrounded!
In case you find yourself in my shoes, I thought I would provide you with some tips on how to properly care for the enginerd in your life:
Enginerds do not like surprises. You know that surprise birthday party you would love for your husband to throw for you and thought you’d give him the “hint” by throwing one for him? You may want to rethink that. Enginerds like to know what’s going to happen, when it’s going to happen, where they should be, how they are going to get there, and who they should know when they arrive. Simply put: they like plans. So don’t mess with them. Care for your enginerd by providing as much information about an event as possible, and then hope to God nothing changes.
Enginerds cannot take a hint. An enginerd’s mind is capable of understanding the most complex of systems and could create a machine bigger than the room you’re sitting in; but if you want that cute necklace on page 24, you’re going to have to get out a pen and paper and write it down. Take good care of your enginerd by letting your needs be known. On paper. No guesswork = far less drama in the long run.
You may get more than you asked for from an enginerd. If you ask an enginerd what time it is, you may or may not get the answer you’re looking for. Instead of simply telling you the time, he very well could launch into a dissertation about how a watch works instead. Sometimes enginerds have difficulty finding the forest in the trees. Help redirect your enginerd with gentle yet firm statements like, “I said WHAT TIME IS IT?!?”
Enginerds are efficiency experts. Why spend ten minutes talking about something that could be settled in two? Case in point: our texts to each other. More often than not, my texts would go over the 160 character limit every time I sent a message under our old plan (thankfully for me, the new one doesn’t have a limit). His reply would usually be under five words. Simple, direct, and to the point. That’s my enginerd! Perhaps you can care for your enginerd by making all of your communication in Haiku.
Enginerds are “pretty good.” I have come to realize that “pretty good” is my enginerd’s highest form of adulation. If I just knocked his socks off with a new recipe, he’ll be sure to tell me it was “pretty good.” And that flirty dress he likes is “pretty nice” looking, too. If he were to go on and on about my cooking, it would expend far too much emotion and communication for his taste (and his logic might add that I would expect that same amount of praise the next time. Smart fella.) If he keeps his cool in every situation and only ups the ante with the occasional “that’s really good,” then it takes longer to reach his drama threshold. Care for your enginerd by keeping drama to a minimum.
Enginerds accept no substitutes. Enginerds work ceaselessly to achieve (near) perfect designs. Be it a remodeling project, a great rib recipe, or a work assignment, they want it done right—every time. And once an acceptable state of precision has been met, they do not mess with it. Ever. (Well, unless they know exactly how and why a change is necessary and statistically how much better something will be as a result, of course.) An enginerd would argue that this same consistency and standardization *should* apply to the entire household. For example, you should not substitute Kahlua for vanilla in a batch of tried and true chocolate chip cookies because your enginerd will probably sniff out the imposter ingredient like a Bloodhound. In the future, if you are unable to make something according to “exact design specifications,” do your enginerd a loving favor and make brownies instead.
I do hope that this list of tips helps you deal with your enginerd. It certainly helps me appreciate mine more just writing about him (blog therapy?). I want to thank Kelly for this fun opportunity to share about something near and dear to both of our hearts. If you enjoyed this blog, you might also enjoy an article called “Caring for Your Introvert” by Jonathan Rauch from which this blog was inspired. If you have one of those on your hands, take a look!
Maggie Singleton is an author, blogger, editor, and an advocate for women married to enginerds. And she’s always good for picking up your kid from preschool when you find yourself in a pinch because you are of course stuck in the only checkout lane open at Walmart, manned by their most inefficient employee, but I’ll be damned if you’re going to abandon ship only to come back to that hell hole later with your kid in tow to purchase the same stuff that is sitting in your basket at this very moment.
You can find her brilliant book Milk Diaries: a compilation of practical, encouraging advice from the “real” breastfeeding experts on Amazon. Go read more of Maggie on her own blog at Perspective Writing and Editing.
And you (or the enginerd in your life) can check out what her enginerd husband is up to at Top-Down Engineering.