I'm Still a Cool Mom. No, Really!

Image from Pixabay

Before I had children, I promised myself I would be a cool mom:

•  My husband and I would stay in our 815-square-foot condo in the cool area of town. We wouldn't move out to the suburbs
• I would still wear stylish clothes, avoiding mom jeans or other pants with elastic waistbands.
• I would not dress my children in matching outfits for family photos that would embarrass them when they were older.

The first two resolutions crumbled quickly in the wake of  the new reality of parenthood. We moved three months after our son was born. I wore yoga pants for two years, after a surprising amount of baby weight lingered postpartum.

However, I still hadn't bought matching clothes -- but this one recently flew out the window. I broke down and ordered matching pajamas for me and my daughter. Pink pajamas -- with unicorns, no less. These are not cool in any universe, known or otherwise.

Perhaps I can preserve my dignity somewhat by not taking any photos of myself and my daughter in the pajamas. But I'm itching to post a photo on Facebook that will haunt me in any job interview down the road.

Believe me, I wasn't remotely cool in high school or college, but I was determined to be a cool mom. I had a brief window of coolness in my 20s when I splurged on a used Ford Mustang convertible. With the top down and the breeze through my hair, I was the coolest I've ever been.

Nowadays, I take heart from an episode from the cult television show "Freaks and Geeks." Sam, the adorkable younger brother, repeats "I'm cool" to himself to build his confidence after making some questionable fashion choices. I just have to repeat "I'm cool" enough times while wearing pink unicorn pajamas to believe it.

But then again, all moms are cool, if you think about it. After all, we grew a baby human inside us for nine months, and then suffered a fair amount of pain to bring the tiny creature into the world. What's cooler than that?

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

4 Best Books for 4-Year-Old Boys

Image from Pixabay

I'm basing this highly-scientific blog on books that my four-year-old son loves me to read. He is a typical toddler in that he loves silly books, especially about underwear. If you're still looking for stocking stuffers for Christmas, or need an eighth present to round out Hanukkah gifts, you've come to the right place.

• Vegetables in Underwear -- My son loves this picture book about the joys of wearing underwear. Clever illustrations make it an easy read for parents also. My favorite character is the broccoli boy who narrates the story. 
• Yellow Submarine -- The Beatles cult classic is not really a children's movie, although it is animated. The book actually makes a lot more sense than the movie, especially if you're trying to watch it completely sober. 
• Don't Push the Button -- In an example of reverse psychology at its finest, the picture book instructs the readers to avoid pushing a red button. My son loves pushing the button, of course, and seeing what mayhem ensues to the poor narrator.
• Tikki Tikki Tembo - A 1968 classic about the value of short names, the book continues to delight my toddler. I think he just likes hearing "Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo!" over and over again.

What are your toddler's favorite books? Do you have any you would recommend?

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

Chart: Do I Have to Go to Kid's Birthday Party?

I developed this flowchart after one month and three birthday parties. Now, one of the parties was my firstborn's party, so I was definitely on the hook for that one.

Last year, I scoured the Internet for "Curious George" party paraphanelia, including monkey-themed favors such as bracelets and temporary tattoos. We spent days cleaning our house, and even hired a balloon artist to make balloon animals.

The day before the party, I panicked that the storebought cake wasn't enough to feed the guests and whipped up a batch of homemade cupcakes.

The end result? The children ignored the balloon artist and went outside to play. Half the guests forgot to bring home the meticulously-curated favor bags. We also had enough cupcakes to last a month.

This year, I dialed it down a notch and held the party at a local community center with a pool. We had pizza and another store-bought cake. I didn't do favors, and nobody complained. Nobody missed the homemade cupcakes, either!

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

My $50 Jar of Homemade Peach Jam

Photo by Nina Snyder

September in Colorado means a fresh harvest of juicy Palisades peaches. This year, I succumbed to the roadside stand selling flats of peaches for $40.

How much is in a flat? I have no idea -- I usually buy my peaches at the grocery store in oh-so-urban plastic bags. But it sure looked like a lot of peaches, at least three dozen to my untrained eye.

As a win-win, the roadside vendor looked happy when I asked for peaches on the ripe side. I assume selling dozens of overripe peaches is tougher than selling the hard-as-rocks variety.

Along with a friend, I set out to channel my inner pioneer woman and distill those delicious peaches into homemade jam. She had mason jars left over for her wedding, so all we needed was the raw materials.

Oh, wait, and various canning implements sold at the grocery store for $10. Now we were set. She found an easy recipe using a crock pot. We peeled and sliced the peaches, added lemon juice, pectin and a lot of sugar.

Eight hours later, the aroma of peaches filled the kitchen. The amber concoction looked darker than I thought it would be, but it tasted heavenly.

My toddler wanted to help with the canning process, which unfortunately meant only one large jar of peach jam survived -- plus some leftovers that we just refrigerated for quick eating.

Despite it all, I think we have a future in canning. I'm sure we could sell our homemade peach jam at farmers markets -- for the completely reasonable price of $50 to cover costs. As long as we market it as artisanal, small-batch jam, I'm sure it will be a hit.

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

The 5 Stages of Cleaning Out Your Garage

Image from Pixabay

After a hailstorm pockmarked my car, I vowed to clean out our garage so I could actually park in the garage. However, it took me about a month to work up the courage to enter the maze of boxes, discarded furniture and baby clothes. Here are the five stages of cleaning out the garage.

1. Denial - Open the garage door. Look at all the junk in the garage. Sigh loudly. Close the door. "I'll do it it later!"

2. Anger - Who put all this stuff in here? Not me, it must have been my husband. Or maybe my toddler carted all his old toys in there by himself when I wasn't looking.

3. Bargaining - If I sell all the old baby stuff in here, I can buy a double stroller. Hmm. If I take everything to the consignment store and only get $20, then I still come out ahead.

4. Depression - We have too much stuff in the garage. We are a materialistic society which has lost sight of its collective soul. There's no point in going on.

5. Acceptance - I accept that it will take me 20 trips to Goodwill to get rid of all this junk.

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

The Problem with Co-Sleeping

Image from Pixabay

Co-sleeping sounded like a great idea to me after nursing my son and waking up several times a night. At first, co-sleeping allowed me to get more sleep because I didn't have to get out of bed to nurse.

On some primal level, I also took comfort in the fact that my child was with me all night. If we were still cavemen, I'm sure we would all sleep in the same cave and not put our children in separate little caverns.

However, the problem with co-sleeping is that parents do not get any sleep. After more than three years of co-sleeping, I was simply exhausted and depleted. Sleep deprivation causes a range of side effects, and most parents are all too aware sleep deprivation is a form of torture.

We have since moved our children to their own beds. Hearing my daughter cry for 10 minutes before she falls asleep in her crib is torture in its own way -- but it's a small price to pay for eight hours of sleep.

Of course, this is only my experience. Other parents may love co-sleeping and have only a positive experience.

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.

Swimming Back to Myself

Image from Pixabay

Sometimes, you start writing one thing and it turns into another. I was trying to write a lighthearted blog about motherhood, but then postpartum depression overtook me last month.

Along the way to trying to be the best mother I could be, I lost sight of myself. The ironic part is I've always wanted to be a mother. I yearned for a child while I was in my 30s and single.

When I got married and had a baby at age 38, I felt it literally was a miracle. But somewhere along the way with two children, it became less miraculous and more mundane. Less exhilarating -- and more exhausting.

Last week, I started antidepressants and started swimming again. Swimming by myself for 30 minutes without the kids. Swimming in a basic public pool, a rectangle of blue water surrounded by patchy grass.

What I like about swimming outside is that you can't think about anything else except the sky overhead. For that 30 minutes, I felt strong and capable. I just need to remember that feeling the next time I'm overwhelmed by the constant demands of motherhood.

Nina Snyder is the author of ABCS OF BALLS and the designer of the HOT PINK ORCHARD JOURNAL. Follow her on Twitter @nsnyder_writer.