Once we were inside the building, my heart sank. My two girls were among the oldest children there, and everywhere you looked you saw miniature Disney princesses wearing jeweled tiaras and tiny Woodys and Buzz Lightyears from Toy Story. “They’re so cute” my older daughter Addy said, as she looked at all the kids holding their parent’s hands.

My girls are probably too old for this, I thought, as we headed to our seats. Oh man, I blew it this time. There is no bigger parenting mistake a mom can make than to treat a teen like they’re still a little kid. And here I was, making that classic mistake. Sitting next to us was a young mother holding a baby not more than 7 months old in her lap. “Isn’t she a bit young?” Addy whispered to me. “How is she even going to remember this?” Behind us sat another family with a young woman and her friend. We all patiently waited for the show to begin.

The lights dimmed and Mickey and Minnie Mouse came out to begin the performance. I stole quick glances at my daughters. Both were watching the show a little smugly – kind of the way Middle schoolers look at preschoolers in the sandbox. Cute, but I’m too cool to go there.

And then something happened. Between the lights, the Disney characters, and the songs (gotta confess here, I even sang along with a few myself) a little bit of magic happened. The little baby sitting next to us was clapping her hands and laughing at the performers’ antics. The young woman behind us squealed like a fan at a Justin Beiber Concert each time she saw one of her favorite Disney characters, and my girls got quiet, very quiet. They sat and watched the show, hardly breathing, eyes wide.

This was no baby show. This was magic right in front of their eyes.

At one point in the performance, all the Disney Princesses and Princes came out for a love song number. Unable to take it any longer, when my youngest daughter Emma saw her favorite Princess come out she leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed deeply. Since she was three and we had lost her in an amusement park because she wanted to go back and visit Cinderella, Emma has always wanted to be Cinderella. Emma didn’t move during the rest of the number. It was all so beautiful.

At the end of the dance, my daughter looked up at me. “Mom,” she said, “when I get married, I want to have a sparkly dress just like that,” she said, pointing to the light blue Cinderella outfit the skater was wearing.

After the princess number, something released and my girls joined right in. They clapped as hard as the baby did and squealed just like the young woman behind us. They loved the show, laughed at the jokes, were impressed by the athletics, and knew all the songs. Neither of them wanted it to end and like everyone else in the audience were still smiling when they got up from their seats to leave.

“Mom, that was great,” they both said to me as we made our way back to the car. They were still discussing who had the best costumes, what the funniest parts of the show was, and who had the best skating moves, when we walked in our front door.

I had been wrong, so very, very wrong. It doesn’t matter how old you are, Disney is somehow able to perform magic on every kid (and adult.) There is something about seeing the characters you grew up with performing right in front of your eyes that makes you believe in happiness and dreams coming true.

Me, the mother of six, learned a few things about parenting that night, thanks to Disney on Ice. I learned that even though my daughters are both getting older, they’re both really not that far away from being the little kids they were, it seems, just yesterday.

And Disney on Ice and my girls taught me that no matter what how old you are, you’re never, ever too old to want to be a princess.

Wendy Thomas is an award winning journalist, columnist, and blogger who believes that taking challenges in life will always lead to goodness. She is the mother of 6 funny and creative kids and it is her goal to teach them through stories and lessons. Wendy’s current project involves writing about her family’s experiences with chickens (yes, chickens).

At the beginning of the year, many people passed on making resolutions, opting instead to give the “three words” approach a try. Rather than setting specific goals, these people chose three words that represented the big ideas and values they wanted to embrace in the New Year. The idea is to hold these words as both inspiration and guidance. The goal is to practice living the words, rather than attempting to attain some specific goal. It’s a gentler, deeper way to think about changing our habits and our lives.

Well, the “three words” practice got me to thinking not only about my personal values, but my professional values, and my family values. Could I come up with three words that would embody everything I feel and believe about family? It’s harder than it sounds. At first, the words come tumbling at you – honesty, trust, unconditional, forever, always, comfort, loyalty, priority – but if you sit with this long enough, you start to wonder how you can pick just three … and which three should those be?

If you had to explain the concept of family to an alien who was born in a test tube, what words would you use? What is it that makes a group of people – bound by blood or other ties – a “family?” Is it about tenderness and intimacy? Is it about responsibility and obligation? Is it about love and courage? Faith? Growth? Sacrifice? Sharing? Joy? Laughter?

What does family mean to you? Which three words would you choose? Are they words you already live by, or words you aspire to live ore fully?

Image Credit: Love Sweet Love

As I careen towards this latest milestone, I find myself reflecting on how being a mom has changed me – specifically in terms of whether it has made me brainier … or not.  “Mommy brain” is something we’ve all dealt with. It’s what makes you put the milk away in the pantry instead of the fridge, leave your coffee on the roof of the car, and occasionally forget the names of your children. Mommy brain is the result of mixing enormous amounts of work and responsibility with equal parts stress and sleep deprivation. It’s a powerful combination that can definitely leave you feeling like you’ve lost a few brain cells.

But, could motherhood also make you smarter? A ten-year study done at the Australian National University in Canberra concludes that there’s no such thing as “mommy brain.” In fact, their data provides evidence that pregnancy and motherhood actually boost a woman’s brain capacity and performance. As one observer said of life as a mom, “When you have small to medium-sized children, your faculties adjust so you can deal with five unexpected, stressful things all at the same time.” She’s not kidding. I only have one child and I definitely had to learn how to handle all kinds of things – at the same time, with no training, and without any sleep.

Even now that my daughter is more grown up, I’m on the fence about whether motherhood handicaps my intellect, or gives it super powers. Some days I feel like the endless routine of my days sucks the brain cells right out of my head, leaving me capable of little more than plopping myself in front of the TV to watch America Idol. Other days, I know that the opportunity to see the world through my daughter’s eyes is giving me a whole new perspective that is broadening my intellectual horizons. I know that being someone’s mom inspires me to do things I might not otherwise have attempted – like starting my own business, singing on stage, and learning trapeze. I know that juggling responsibilities, learning new mommy skills, and adapting on-the-fly is teaching me how to think on my feet.

I think mommy brain exists, but I think it’s an intermittent and temporary condition that afflicts us when we’ve pushed ourselves just a bit too far … when we burn the candle at both ends and stick an extra wick in the middle just for fun. Most of the time, I think motherhood makes us not only smarter, but also wiser. After all, how else would we manage to keep up with our kids and keep our sense of humor?

What do you think? Mommy brain – brain suck, or brain boost?

Image Credit: avlxyz

My daughter loves to tell me her dreams. Each morning when we wake up, she starts her day with the words, “I had a dream last night …” She takes such delight in the wildness of her imagination. Each night is filled with adventures to rival the most far-out fantasy and science fiction tales of our time. Last night, she and I sprouted fairy wings and were flying around the house. The night before that, she dreamt there were ponies in the living room, and the night before that she dreamt our whole family went on a theme park ride that was straight out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. The child never rests, even when she’s sleeping!

I have to smile as I listen to these nocturnal stories. When I was a kid, I did the same thing to my mom. Each morning I’d regale her with tales of the previous night’s crazy journey. I’ve always been a person who dreams a complete story arc, so my retelling could last all the way through breakfast. I still have a dream journal that I kept when I was younger – filled with sometimes detailed and sometimes cryptic notes about my nightly wanderings.

Asking kids about their dreams is like asking them what they want to be when they grow up. It gives us a peek inside their world. It is fascinating to see how they interpret their experiences and transform them into their own inner folklore.  I listen to see if my child casts herself as the hero or the villain, the protagonist or the victim. I love when I notice small details that sprang from our waking day into her nighttime thoughts.

And dreams can often provide insight into how our children are feeling about different situations and events. A mom can use her intuition to see connections between themes in dreams and things that are happening in real life. Sometimes how a thing plays out in a dream can give us hints about how our child is dealing with the real life circumstance. We can unearth deep feelings and gain guidance about what we, as mothers, might need to say to comfort or encourage our children.

Dreams: another tool in mom’s bag of tricks. Does your child share dream stories? Do you share yours? Have you ever found that the sharing helped you navigate real life situations?

Image Credit: h. koppdelaney

It’s not that I don’t want to be a better person and improve myself. I do. It’s just that – as a mom – there are so many “me’s” to work on, the prospect is rather daunting. There’s the mom-me who would like to be more patient with the kids, put together a healthier menu (and have sit down dinners for a change!), and wean herself off her addiction to multi-tasking. There’s the significant other-me who would like to make more time for date nights, learn to transition more smoothly from mommy-mode to girlfriend mode, and maybe (once in a while) go to bed wearing something other than flannel. There’s the professional-me who wants to launch a new business, learn how to use online bookkeeping software, and finally organize my list of contacts. The “me-me” would like to lose 20 lbs, get back into yoga, and figure out how to make more time for my girlfriends. Oh … and then there’s the “other” me who would like to (finally!) write her book, maybe take some gourmet cooking classes, and definitely make more time for reading.

It’s a lot to take in, right?

Even if I only chose one resolution per “me,” that’d still be at least five resolutions. Let’s be serious. I’m a busy, working, single mom. If I can even keep up with one resolution, it’ll be a miracle worthy of the supermarket tabloids! And how do I decide which me gets priority? Should it always be the mom-me? What about the “other” me? Doesn’t she rate? I start to wonder if I should tackle one resolution each month and try to cram them all in before next New Year’s Eve.

But after my head stops spinning, I decide to just give up. Truth is, I’ve never once in my life stuck it out with a single resolution. I’ve made them and then – like the massive majority of human beings on the planet – “forgotten” about them around January 24^th, conveniently sweeping them under the rug of Real Life. Instead, this year, I’ve decided to focus on one word … well, three words, actually. It’s a new practice I stumbled upon while frittering away my hours reading other people’s blogs. The idea is you pick one word to inspire you for the year. One word. I can handle that. The best part is that the interpretation of that word is up to you, and it can change to adapt to various situations. So, I’m thinking that I can’t lose. If I’m feeling like I’m coming up short, I’ll just adjust my interpretation of my word, and – voila! – I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

What about you? Do you make resolutions? How do they work for you? Have you ever tried the “word of the year” thing? What do you think of that? What word would you choose for yourself in 2012? Sparkle? Courage? Passion? Calm? What feels like a good way to start this year off?

Image Credit: Salvis Are

No matter what holiday you celebrate, there’s a good chance that you’re feeling in the thick of things right now. As the year comes to a close, we find ourselves endlessly tying up loose ends. There’s just so much to do and never enough time to get to everything AND manage a good night’s sleep. It’s so easy to get caught up in all the chaos and frenzy. Today’s guest post is a gentle but firm reminder that the holidays should be about slowing down and being with our families. It comes from guest writer Wendy Thomas – a mother of six who is always at the ready with a witty quip and a grounding life lesson. Take a moment. Read. Breathe. Slow down. Enjoy the moments and the little things. Happy holidays.

Well before Black Friday arrived (and can I just say that when I was a kid we never called it Black Friday? It was always the “Friday after Thanksgiving.”) I made the following announcement to my kids:

“As you know, it’s been a rough year here. We’ve had pets leave us, compromised health, and it’s been tough financially. Which is why this holiday season we are going to celebrate it our own way.

We can’t be at Occupy Wall Street but we can take their message of supporting local businesses to heart. This means that many of our holiday gifts are going to come from local craftsmen and small family owned stores (“Just say no to Monster High Dolls”.) We’re going to bring Christmas back home with locally made gifts (including homemade items), lots of baked goods, and a general slowing down of things so that we have time to spend with each other.

Don’t worry, there will still be plenty of presents, it’s just that the gifts this year are all going to have heart (and will support our local economy.)”

I wasn’t really sure what reaction to expect. I knew the older teens would understand what I was trying to do, they were as fed up with the insanity-provoking commercial hype as I was, but I wasn’t sure if my two youngest children, both daughters would go along.

And the blame for this rest solely on my shoulders.

Yup, I’m the mom that makes sure Christmas is perfect. I shop till I drop, I get absolutely everything that I think will make my kids happy and then I usually end up getting more. A singing reindeer? Adorable. Books that can record your voice? Into the cart they go.

I am responsible for creating my own little Christmas Frankensteins.

I waited for the fallout from the kids, but guess what? A few months of life not going the way you had expected, tends to make you grateful for things other than a bunch of toys. When two of our dogs unexpectedly died within two weeks of each other, we learned to appreciate every moment we have with our only remaining dog. No one wants another puppy for Christmas, we just want to be able to keep the one we have.

When brothers are diagnosed with a painful, progressive disease (Lyme) that make walking across a room a chore, you start appreciating your health a little more than the most current Wii game. Suddenly a walk outside with the family becomes a blessing, an accomplishment we can all cheer about.

When the kids accompany me to the grocery store each week and see how carefully I plan a menu and buy the food we will need for the following week while keeping within our budget, they realize that $40 for a plastic toy really is a lot of money.

To my relief, even the girls have agreed that things had gotten out of hand. They are all for our downsized Christmas and have been keeping themselves busy making crafts they can’t wait to give to their family and friends.

Oh, I’m not going Grinch on anyone, we’re still going to have plenty of presents but this year some of the presents might be made from feathers that have fallen off our chickens, a hat just perfect for someone that was found at a thrift store, or ornaments made from some of the pine cones found in the back woods. Or we just might sit down, truly grateful that we are together and talk about our favorite family memories while I pass around mugs of hot chocolate with candy cane stirrers and gingerbread hot from the oven.

Wendy Thomas is an award winning journalist, columnist, and blogger who believes that taking challenges in life will always lead to goodness. She is the mother of 6 funny and creative kids and it is her goal to teach them through stories and lessons. Wendy’s current project involves writing about her family’s experiences with chickens (yes, chickens).

Today’s guest post comes from the delightful and talented Beth Bader. She is, among other things, the co-author of a great new cookbook called

When it comes to picky eating, my kiddo has been pretty normal. I’ve realized this as we have other people’s kids at our table. There have been one or two unforgettable moments when these children have taken one look at fresh berries, meatballs and pasta and screamed at me, “I hate this! I’m not going to eat this!” before even taking a bite. Or, refused to eat anything but plain noodles and meat, not touching one another on the plate.

Worst of all, there was the heart-wrenching moment of parents admitting that, on a scale of one to ten, the best any meal at their table has ever been is a two.

I try to look at these moments as learning opportunities. Are there things I did right or am I just lucky? Both? I must not be the brightest crayon in the box because I tend to have a lot of these “learning moments.” To quote a Wally Lamb book, however, “This much, at least, I’ve figured out. I know this much is true.”

Sometimes, all the tips in the world won’t make it easy.

There are kids who have real eating issues, in rare cases requiring a feeding therapist. Conditions like ADHD and autism can add to eating challenges. Count your blessings if your kid is just in the normal range of picky. You can solve this.

Your best picky eating advice will come from your child herself.

I let my kiddo teach me how to best avoid food fights. Barely crawling, she showed an adventurous streak, a boundless love of play and a willingness to put anything — from drinking water off a manhole cover to licking a gas station bathroom door — in her mouth. By toddler years, she could throw a meltdown that could go three hours plus. At preschool graduation, she was dubbed “Future Lawyer” partly for her analytical mind and mostly for her debate skills.

I used each of these personality “quirks” in our approach to food. I made first foods a fun adventure by arming both the kiddo and I with spoons. She was allowed to feed me, too, making it a shared experience instead of Mommy shoving food at the kid. It’s really, really hard to laugh and giggle while gagging on pureed baby food, but a mother’s love can conquer all.

As my child aged into the “I do it!” control years, she became my constant kitchen companion. We explored smelling spices, choosing vegetables at the market, tasting and preparing things together. It gave her an outlet for her very strong control need. It made a massive mess in my kitchen, but extra dishes are easier than table wars hands down.

With her newfound verbal skills and a brain that constantly, constantly churns, my “future lawyer” enjoys reading cookbooks with me, finding foods she would like to try, then tasting and evaluating them as a family. It’s not unusual for me to ask, “I think this needs more vinegar, what do you think?” Or, “this is not the best way I like carrots, either, what recipe do you like best?”

I’d like to think I had some small role in how much easier my child can be than others when it comes to food. (Note: that’s only about food!) Truth is, all I did was observe and let her be my guide. You know your child best. You will find your happy path together. Let the fun — really, FUN — begin.

There are a few universal truths that can help you.

• Food issues can be with color, texture and taste, and quite often more about control than food. Try different approaches with an open mind to solve the issue without stress.
• It can take up to fifteen exposures to a new food before a child will like or even try it. Fifteen! Don’t give up too soon.
• Stack the odds in your favor by serving the new food alongside proven favorites. You won’t have to worry if your child is leaving the table hungry.
• Enjoy your food. Your healthy food. The number one predictor of the number of fruits and vegetables your child eats is how many you eat yourself!
• Your food critic writes in crayon. Don’t take his criticism of your efforts personally.
• Now, enjoy your dinner. Really. Enjoy.

Finally, sometimes there is no win — in the short term.

There will be bad days. There will be days when your child hates food he loved just yesterday. There will be painful dinners just like there are difficult days in general. Raising a healthy eater is a long process just like raising your kid on the whole. Breathe. Be kind to yourself. You’ll make it.

GIVEAWAY: If you’d like to make things easier for you on those challenging days, I really do recommend Beth’s book The Cleaner Plate Club. Beth, along with co-author Ali Benjamin, has done an amazing job of creating a cookbook that both moms and kids can enjoy and learn from. I’m willing to bet you’ll use this book not only as a cookbook, but as a general guide to food and source of inspiration when you’re wandering around in a daze wondering what the heck is for dinner. Beth has graciously agreed to give away three copies to three random Fans of Being a Mom winners. To enter, just leave a comment below before midnight EST this Friday (December 16th) telling us your best picky eater story. If you’re one of our randomly selected winners, we’ll be in touch by email to get all your shipping details so Beth can send out your book and you can get cookin’.

About the author: Co-author of The Cleaner Plate Club: Recipes and Advice for Getting Real Kids to Love Real Food. Beth Bader has been a photojournalist, writer, and shark wrangler. As much activist as cook, she is, most of all, a mom determined to make the world a better place for her child, one meal at a time. She is a food blogger at Expatriate’s Kitchen expatriateskitchen.blogspot.com and contributes to EatLocalChallenge.com and EatDrinkBetter.com.

Image Credit: mrgreen09

I am the matriarch, the task master, and the manager.

I am the protector – mama bear in all her fierceness and courage.

I am the healer of boo-boos, sickness, and hurt feelings.

I am the one who answers the question “why” … even when I have to make it up.

I am head of inventory, making sure we never run out of bread or milk or toilet paper.

I am a tutor, trying to keep pace with my student.

I am the voice of the law, making and enforcing house rules.

I am a cradle, rocking my child to sleep, soothing with stories and lullabies.

I am a master chef, trained in appeasing the finicky appetites of toddlers and preschoolers.

I am a chauffeur, on a tight schedule, making my way from stop to stop and back again.

I am an ally and a friend.

I’m the straight man.

I am invisible when I’m supposed to be, careful not to infringe on my child’s independence.

I am a singer of duets, a dance partner, and an artistic collaborator.

I am a cheerleader.

I am a safe haven, an always-open door, the light in the window that never goes out.

I am a conscience, wielding guilt with grace and good intentions.

I am a guru, imparting what wisdom I hold so that my child may grow wiser than me.

I am a student, learning at my child’s knee – discovering how much I don’t know.

I am the luckiest person in the world to walk through this life in this role, with my child at my side.

Image Credit: Photo of John Henry Twatchman’s painting by David Flam

My child is a magical dichotomy of sweetness and fire. Her mercurial moods reflect the molten state of her personality as it is formed right before my eyes.

My child is an adventure, greater than any trek or expedition I could contrive. She is a world in herself and I am the explorer – navigating my way through unknown territory and discovering so much about her and myself.

My child is a challenge. She brings out my best and my worst. She pushes my buttons, my limits, and my boundaries. She is the reason I continue stretching and growing and learning.

My child is my second chance at being in the world in the way we’re meant to be in the world. She gives me new sight, new sense, new perspective. She lets me see the world, once again, as a place full of possibilities.

My child is my peace. When I stand in the presence of her sleeping form, I feel that all is right with the world.

My child is an open ended question with no wrong answer.

My child is joy. She is so full of mischief and mirth. Her joy in making others laugh is enough to fill my heart to bursting.

My child is a dream that hasn’t been dreamed yet. She is concentrated potential – bright and glittering, but with an indistinct form.

My child is a force of nature, making her way through the world in turns like a spring zephyr and then a raging hurricane.

My child is an artist, singing, dancing, and drawing her way through her days. She is a creator and a magician – letting her inspiration guide her without inhibition.

My child is a gift. She is a gift to me, to my family, to the world.

Image Credit: Dan Slee

Um… seriously?

I gave up this conversation quickly because a) I found her explanation to be creative and hilarious, and b) I remembered a line from one of my childhood development books: Not even a Supreme Court judge can effectively win a debate with a 4 year-old.

As I sat there, unable to craft an appropriate comeback, I realized that this same scenario had played out before. In fact, I’d been in the same position about a million times in the last few weeks! Could it be true? My sweet little maiden no longer thinks I’m the smartest person in the world?

“You got it, Mom.”

Sadly for me, it is true. After descending into these arguments over and over, I‘m finally getting it — I do not, at the moment, hold the key to life’s mysteries, minor trivia or well-known facts of record. And despite my argumentative nature and inability to let incorrect assumptions slide, I’m quickly learning that in the case of the great debate with the preschool set, it’s really not worth it.

Here’s why.

Preschoolers have no problem contradicting the obvious.

Explaining the origins of things like maple syrup, grape jam, and ketchup is trickier than you might think. “What’s ketchup made of Mom?” Despite, the picture of a red, dew-drenched tomato on the bottle, the response is, “No, Mom, ketchup is definitely not made from tomatoes. I hate tomatoes!” Despite more proof (a recipe, the Wikipedia “ketchup” page, and a tomato paste taste test) my daughter remains unflappable. “Sorry, Mom. You’re WRONG! I would NEVER eat ketchup if it was made of tomatoes, and it’s one of my favorite things!”

Let them think what they think. They’ll figure it out later.

My daughter’s current passion is letters. As a writer and word-lover, it pains me that she thinks “C” always sounds like “S.” I’ve tried to set her straight—reading is important! But there’s no messing with my mini expert. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that she’ll eventually figure it out on her own. She’ll come racing to me one day with an epiphany about words like  “calico” and “curlicue,” and I’ll do a happy dance in the middle of the library for all to see. But, for now, I just have to accept defeat.

The KISS approach is brilliant in many situations.

Experts tell you discipline should be quick: don’t show emotion, limit your words, hold eye contact. I think the same holds true for answers to complex questions. A good answer to, “Mom, why don’t dandelions have a smell,” is “Oh, honey, just because.” Or I pitch the question back to her, “I’m not sure. What do you think?” Sometimes the best offense is keeping a stupidly simple defense.

I suppose what I’m really meant to learn through this stage is that her thoughts about the world – although sometimes fantastical, inaccurate, and completely opposite to my own – are valuable simply because they matter to her. She will eventually “get it” and accept the harsh truth about ketchup. I shouldn’t worry. (No child was ever kicked out of preschool for such misconceptions, right?) More importantly, she is learning to be a strong person – capable of expressing her ideas, processing information, and reaching conclusions all by herself.

It’s not about who’s right and who’s wrong. It’s not about me. It’s about her gaining the confidence to make a statement about something she finds interesting. And when the day comes that she is truly ready to hear my thoughts on the scientific functions of the conifer’s most important asset, well, that will be a sweet piece of motherhood pie.

Does your child disagree with your answers to their questions? Do you debate with them, or let it go?

Sarah Daily is a writer, marketing professional, and owner of a hyper-local social network for mothers in Bend, Oregon. She believes strongly that when mothers get together behind matters of good for the world and their children, amazing things can happen. She is the mother of one almost 5 year-old girl who has the innate ability to sense the moment she tiptoes out of the room to catch a phone call, but also blesses her with laughter and joy making most of the interruptions a welcome blessing.

Image Credit: Caselet