Why have we not seen any organic shopping cart covers yet? Think about it, it makes perfect sense: If you're the type who is freaked out by what might be on that rickety cart in your local Albertsons, you're probably also worried about the chemicals that are treating the fabrics your kiddos come in contact with
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Let's face it: a lot of environmentally friendly products aren't as effective as their counterparts - and they're more expensive. So you can be assured that if I recommend an environmentally friendly product, it's definitely worthwhile.
Whoever invented magic markers was not a parent. While it's bad enough that crayons end up in teeny little shards all over our floor, at least there are no caps to lose.
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In the final weeks of my pregnancies, I was alphabetizing my CDs, scrubbing out the kitchen cabinets, and laundering everything in sight. I most certainly was not thinking about packing my hospital bag.
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I'm a podcaster for God's sake and I still do not own an iPod. But since iPods aren't exactly the most obvious sentimental mom gift, I'm hoping my husband will pair one with this great photo iPod case by Smoy.net.
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It's taken me three children in six years to reach this point, but I'm finally comfortable nursing in public. It may be beautiful and natural, but I find I really am happier with a nursing cover.
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Why why why why why oh why did no one tell me about the Car Seat Gate Check Bag until now?
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My daughter has fallen in love with the very cute Boo Boo Gel Packs from Tiny Tillia.
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My mother-in-law spared no opportunity to laud the wondrous and all mighty playpen.
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Why not celebrate Jesus and the Mother of all Mothers today with this Fred and Friends Holy Toast Bread Stamper.
Those acupressure wrist bands are a very effective (non-edible) remedy for nausea - but let's face it, not so cute.
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As a child of the 70s, I remember insisting that my mother sew my soccer patch, my daisy patch, and two souvenir patches from a family trip to Europe right on the top of my Osh Kosh overalls.
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Thanks to my "slopey" shoulders, I have an incredibly difficult time finding non-athletic bras with straps that stay up. Reaching into my shirt to reposition the boulder holders has become a part of my regular routine.
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The sigOth and I had this great idea to save all of our daughter's birthday hats, ostensibly to watch the progression from Elmo to Diego to Toodee, if one day Yo Gabba Gabba licenses their characters to party supplies.
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A reader recently emailed asking about cool toiletry cases for kids. My answer was that most of them are pretty lame.
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I've just returned from our first ever overseas trip with two children in tow. Thankfully (seriously, thank you powers-that-be) they were both exemplary travelers. While I'd like to think that my stellar parenting skills are entirely responsible, I have to throw a hat tip to the FAA-approved CARES restraint system.
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When I sent my older daughter off to day care, I scrawled her initials on masking tape and stuck these makeshift labels haphazardly on her bottles, thinking that ought to suffice. Oh, how wrong I was.
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Ever thought to yourself, nursing's great and all but you know what I could really use? Some spare nipples.
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As a child of the eighties, I was privy to the debut of many fads that should never have been, including parachute pants, bolo ties, and those cheesy Chia pets. If only the last one had died out along with the first two.
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I have a friend who spends every New Year's day plants a new tree with her family.
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With all the scary news lately (toxins and plastics and pthalates, oh my) I'm starting to look at everything that goes into
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If you're looking for a way to get everyone chatting--or just want a way to divert your uncle who always goes off about those damn Congressmen/ weathermen/ killer African bees, fear not. We've found two awesome solutions.
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Neither of my kids took a binky, which was frustrating until recently, now that I see friends trying to coax their toddlers' pacifiers out of their mouths to give to Santa or The Binky Elf. (Who knew?)
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The latest hilarious, totally unnecessary, but absolutely fun item out for the parent who has everything: BabiePlates, customized European-style license plate for your carriage or stroller.
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If you haven't yet bookmarked Mommy Track'd, The working mother's guide to managed chaos, you haaaave to do it. Besides awesome columns from great writers and a slew of resources for working moms, I always like poking around their shop to see what's new.
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One of CMP's all time favorite artists, Michelle Caplan is now wowing us with her brand new tooth fairy pillows. The coolest part? They don't look like tooth fairy pillows. (Or at least that's cool to me.)
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Each holiday season, I make sure to stock up on a box full of emergency hostess and holiday gifts. They're the kinds of things you can pretty much give to anyone when you get a last minute invite, or--horror of all horrors--someone hands you a gift and you haven't reciprocated.
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We are considering starting a category in the CMP archives called "If You're Freaked Out By Germs..." There are evidently more high chair and shopping cart covers out there than I think people actually using them.
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I'm not a fan of princess-y stuff per se, but I'm not above using small doses of it here and there when it's really needed. So when we came across the EpiPen Princess, a pink pouch for holding potentially life-saving injectors for kids with allergies, I thought yep.
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Seems like every time my girls and I hit the neighborhood playground, there's a mini injury of some sort. We've had the bee sting, the bloody nose, the scraped knee, and the invisible boo-boo that needs more TLC than Neosporin.
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So what do you do when you and your sweet little fairy princess or pea pod or happy clown run to answer the door tonight only to find...17 year-old trick or treaters wielding bloody machetes?
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Ever since we started poking around the web for alternatives to paper lunch bags for our back to school shopping guide, we can't stop ourselves! There are so many great options to help us reduce that carbon footprint you keep hearing so much about.
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While I spend a whole lot of my life online, I understand that not every mother does. In fact, there are some pregnant women who actually (gasp!) don't have blogs. So how's a expecting mama to keep track of all those memories?
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As a fairly frequent flyer, I've always packed my own portable play yard because, well, you know why. The thought of using a hotel crib or that borrowed play yard that's been growing mold in your friend's basement for a few years gives me shivers on top of shivers.
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I haven't yet found the perfect handmade Halloween princess get-up for my extra particular toddler. But I have found the requisite light she'll need.
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In light of the recent recall of kids cold medicines, parents everywhere are purging medicine cabinets and looking for natural alternatives - all while secretly praying for a runny nose-free Winter ahead. Like that could happen.
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I willingly admit I'm a tooth fairy pillow hatah. I hate them. Haaaate them. I think they're stupid and sentimental, and good God, what is wrong with sneaking in and slipping the stupid quarter under your kid's pillow like our parents did for us anyway?
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For all the snickers I get from my friends for owning and proudly using a shopping cart cover, I am dying to say shut up! I love it.
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Maybe if you just worked a teeeeeny bit more or stopped taking those damn weekends off for family time you could afford this: The stroller starting at $2500.
Ever since I learned about my niece's egg allergy, I've been on the lookout for helpful products and services to help her mama out.
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Now that my daughter has mastered the fine art of bike riding (at least on the downhills), there's no way she's going to let the progressively earlier sunsets cramp her freewheeling style.
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So here's a trick: Put a photo of yourself on your child's lunchbox before sending her off to school. She'll be more likely to eat those carrot sticks you packed instead of trying to trade them for Ho-Hos, what with you standing over her like that.
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Check my daughter's wall shelves and you will find her books stacked in impractically haphazard piles. Why? If they tilt even 5 degrees in their upright positions, they knock the bookends over. Um, can you say design flaw?
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I am guilty of committing gross cruelty to sunglasses. I stick them on my head when they're not in use, I dump them in my bag without a case, I leave them on the coffee table where my daughter can paw at them with sticky hands.
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When I think of portable changing mats, "plush" isn't exactly the first word that pops to mind. Perhaps "practical." Or "free with diaper bag." But not so much "plush."
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I love that my daughter is getting into the idea of saving the loose change she finds.
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Back when I was in middle school, I would put scotch tape around my lunch money change and cram it in my front pocket. Today, pre-teens, tweens and teens sport more cash than some island nations do. I say that kind of cold hard cabbage deserves to be wrapped up in some cool art.
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Moms seem to fall into two categories: Those who never finished their baby books, and those who are like, "what baby book?" At this point, I'm falling into both categories, one for each child. Mea culpa!
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My daughter has officially reached that very important developmental milestone known as the sticker age. If it's got an adhesive back, then to her it's the single greatest thing since ice cream--Scotch tape included.
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The one drawback to Mother's Day is that it gives some people the idea that you only need to be thanked, rewarded, and otherwise showered with praise one day a year. Beg to differ. We (I) need all the gratuitous "good job" and "you're pretty" type accolades we (I) can get.
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If you had a cranky, gassy baby like my daughter, then you know how terribly frustrating it can be. And while there's no shortage of products to help relieve bloated bellies, not all of them work for every baby.
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I'll bet I'm not alone in my reluctance to haul around a stack of books in the event that my child might want to crack open one of them. I'm a mom, not a pack mule.
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I've heard it said that driving a minivan may not be the coolest thing ever. Have you heard that? Or am I just making that up?
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I've learned not to invest too much in craft supplies for every new project that strikes my girls' fancy. One moment you're bringing home fabric paints and the next they're like, "No mom, we want the Bedazzler!" Both of which, by the way, will end up in the back of a closet before you know it.
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An expectant mother walks into a baby superstore...No, it's not the beginning of a joke. Just the beginning of an overwhelming experience, especially when you hit the gear aisle. Which gadgets can you live without? Most of them.
Golf clubs, BBQ grills, ties and tickets to see his favorite team - eh. Let's face facts, what dads really want is just a wee bit of quiet around the house now and then.
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As anyone who's ever thrown a party knows, you need about six times as many cups as guests. Mainly because half of them get wasted when the guests get...well, wasted...and forget which half-full cup was theirs after they put it down. Or worse, instead of leaving it altogether, they unknowingly drink from someone else's cup. Yuck.
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If I may totally frank, the staff at Cool Mom Picks cannot entirely understand the appeal of pregnancy belly casts. It sounds cool in theory-- sort of--but what do you do with it when you're done?
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I'm not worried about keeping up with the Joneses when it comes to my girls' birthday parties. You won't find a petting zoo in my backyard, nor will I be sending guests home with goodies that rival the contents of Oscar night swag bags. Still, I want to make the party memorable.
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It might be cool to wear your "peanut-free" backpack patch when you're running with the elementary crowd, but not so much when the hormones start kicking in.
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Thanks to the terrible threes, possessiveness has risen to a new level in our home. So, in order to keep my son's clothing from turning into my daughter's dress-up wardrobe, I've turned to Mabel's Labels new Tag-mates for help.
Don't ask me why exactly I still have the ribbons off the generic going-home gift the hospital gave us, but I do. I save and document everything, which is all well and good when you've got a first year baby journal to fill up, but after that you're pretty much to your own devices. Can you say "shoeboxes?"
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We've officially hit the temperatures in my neck o' the woods where icy cold liquid refreshments are starting to be top of mind. And just in time, we've turned up this totally clever and very official LEGO ice cube tray.
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I'm embarrassed to say it took me a long time to learn mommy lesson #416: No matter how much of a rush you are in, never throw a bottle or sippy cup into your purse. The learning curve cost me a new cell phone battery and way too many hours getting orange juice pulp out my lovely bag.
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Now that I'm pregnant the second time around, I had forgotten about the insane, intrusive, totally bizarre need for strangers to accost you on the street and touch your stomach. On the other hand, I have no qualms about letting friends grab the belly. And if it's in fact your shower, it's practically required.
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The curse of a kid with a summer birthday: With vacation schedules and everything else that gets crammed into those few glorious months, I'm looking for an extra special announcement to make sure no one forgets my daughter's big day.
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Nothing to me says summer quite like lazing in a hammock. That is, after I've awkwardly attempted to climb in, fallen off twice, exposed my arse to the world, and settled into a pseudo-comfortable position having left one shoe on the ground and my dignity shattered to bits. Perhaps hammocks should be left to those who really adore them - the kids.
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While I'm all for feeding my baby wherever I choose, I'm still getting back into the groove of breastfeeding -- meaning, I'm a clumsy mess who can barely undo her nursing bra, let alone doing it discreetly in public.
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When we receive an inquiry at CMP declaring, "no mom can live without it!" We can't help but look more closely. After all, we'd hate to think of countless mothers needlessly passing due to the lack of a particular product.
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I'm always stuck on what to get the newborn who has everything; particularly when that newborn isn't the first to hit the household. All I know is, another package of onesies or flannel receiving blankets do not top my list.
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We know the decision to breastfeed has nothing to do with saving the planet. But when you're slathering on the Lansinoh, it's nice to have in the back of your mind that you're doing something more than just sustaining your own flesh and blood (like there's a more honorable cause).
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While we’ve had no shortage of diaper clutches to review here at Cool Mom Picks, I have yet to find one that really truly doesn’t look like one. Not that that's a huge problem, but still, it's nice to have an option that doesn’t scream “baby crap inside!”
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While I'm a big proponent of pacifiers, picking them up off the ground every four seconds stinks. Especially when you're still in that early stage where you actually wash the thing off instead of just wiping it on your jeans.
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I naively thought breastfeeding would be a piece of cake -- you know, stick the baby on and go. But then I had the leaking, the nipple pain, the engorgement. Needless to say, it was hard not to get discouraged.
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Whether you're pregnant like me, nursing, or just hanging onto a bit of baby weight for nostalgia's sake, we all have one thing in common: Major boobage.
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Nothing says motherhood like waking up in the morning to find a little baby with his diaper on half-backwards and the snaps on his onesie done up wrong. Funny things happen at 2:30 AM when you can't see a damn thing you're doing.
Just this week I was browsing the juice box aisle for my toddler, thinking how convenient it would be to be able to stash one of those in the diaper bag and forgo the sippy cup. And then I remembered that the last time we tried juice boxes it entailed a change of clothes. For both of us.
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Having a baby can even the most organized of mothers a run for their money. And save having a personal assistant, it seems like it's a common known fact that moms just aren't going to be able to keep everything together as well as they did pre-kiddo.
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There have been a few occasions for which I have put aside my obsessive gift-picking regimen and sent a gift basket; I blame it on postpartum dementia. Not that all gift baskets are bad, but there always seems to be one or two lame additions hidden in there.
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I've got a few friends involved in adoptions these days and I've gotta say, it's really hard to find the perfect gift. I love the idea of something unique to their circumstances, but not all of them are the types to wear an "I'm an adoptive parent" tee shirt either. Then I stumbled across the Adoption Book and I thought, aha! That's it!
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All hail the binkie, that great pacifier (pun intended) of babies, and best friend to sleep-deprived new mamas across the globe. However if I have one complaint about them, it's that they fit ever so perfectly out the crib slats at 3 am. I have more experience with this than I'd care to detail.
One of the great benefits of breastfeeding is that you don't need to remember to pack your boobs when you head out with the baby. But once you're onto bottles...
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I don't care how convincing the saleswoman in the overpriced maternity shop is when she assures you "oh but no, our super-overpriced maternity pants can't possibly fall down around your ankles every time you bend over"--she's lying. And I have the incriminating plumber's butt snapshots this pregnancy to prove it.
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I'm pretty low-maintenance in the "carrying baby gear around" category. Okay, I'm pathetic. We rarely remember to bring bibs when we go out to dinner, let alone a portable high chair But as I've learned, it does make feeding her a little tricky in a hotel room or at the home of a friend with no young kids.
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Having a child means learning the fine art of apologizing - sorry Haden ruined your plane trip. Sorry Oliver ate your lipstick. Sorry Violet reached into her diaper and flung its contents at your dinner guests. Not that I'd know about such things.
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I'm not the type of person who avoids walking under ladders or reschedules meetings because my horoscope tells me to. But I admit that when I heard that babies born this year, according to Chinese astrology, would be the very blessed and rare Golden Pigs - I gave my pregnant belly a little rub and smiled from ear to ear.
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Angst-ridden tweens need information about crazy life stuff. It's our job as parents to provide them with just enough to to answer their questions, but not so much that it scares the living daylights out of them. And as cool as we can appear on the outside, the thought of discussing that first menstrual period may scare the living daylights out of us too.
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My first child, I'm fortunate to say, is healthy as a horse. But my second child: Ear infections up the wazoo. Even though there wasn't a ton of medical info to keep track of, especially compared with children with real illnesses, there are many times I wish I'd written down what that Motrin dosage was or which antibiotic had her spewing fluids from both ends.
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Anyone who travels with kids certainly knows that anything--anything at all--to make the ordeal a wee bit less ordeal-like is worth its weight in gold. The Trunki seems to fit the bill. It's a lightweight kids' suitcase, just under 4 lbs, that converts to fun little ride-on toy.
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My toddler is a visual learner, which is to say it's hard for her to grasp concepts she can't see right in front of her. Unfortunately, this means she knows her animals, but refers to her out-of-town grandparents by the toddler equivalent of "hey, you."
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With all the amazing momtrepreneurs we highlight on our site, it's a wonder that we haven't come across the essential businessmom gift: A cool cardholder. Until now.
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I've never been a fan of giving money to children as a gift. It just seems so...well, you know. It's money. But for the kid who truly has everything--or at least expresses a bizarre interest in the Nasdaq pages of the paper--we've discovered the perfect alternative with GiveAshare.
I can always trust my neighbors from the North when it comes to comedy, a cold brew or some "throw your gloves down" hockey. But who knew the Canadians were cornering the market on must-have nursing pillows to boot?
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I've always found something really homey about employing the fridge as a magnetic board for family photos and postcards. But with the ridiculous assortment of magnets we end up accumulating it ends up looking less like a gallery and more like a bulletin board in the college dorm.
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There comes a time in every mom's life when she realizes that that diaper bag she once spent hours (weeks? months?) choosing, is often obsolete. Sometimes you just want to grab a few diapers and wipes, stuff them in a Ziplock bag, and run out the door. But that wouldn't be very stylish now, would it.
If you're of the Christmas-celebrating persuasion, surely you've already spent months ensuring your little angel baby will be perfectly coiffed this season, with a different fabulous outfit for every party, every family dinner, every opportunity to be fawned over in public. But have you considered the diaper?
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My house has a nice entryway with a coat closet just as you walk in the front door. So why is it that all the family's coats and bookbags end up in one huge pile on the living room couch? Perhaps the child-sized coat hangers from Pakhuis Oost at Rose and Radish would help to keep my living room (relatively) tidy.
Who says that stockings have to be hand crocheted by grandmas with a penchant for pom-poms and unnatural color combinations? Apparently not the folks at Crafty Robot, who have come up with the best alterna-stockings I've ever seen.
I've always thought there's just something slightly undignified about walking around with a sack of frozen peas on your postpartum boobs when they're engorged. And while your kids might not mind frozen foods on their owies, I happen to think everyone would feel a lot better using Baby Blue Cat Designs' absolutely gorgeous Boo Boo Bags instead.
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After the labor, delivery, and oh yeah, the pain, don't moms deserve a little more than yet another six-pack of infant socks, or worse, one of those scary looking diaper cakes? While we're all grateful for every baby gift we receive, it's easy to feel a little, well, forgotten, amidst all the new baby commotion.
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I'm terrible about knowing my kids' vital stats. When someone remarks that one of my girls seems to have grown taller, I just smile and hope he doesn't ask me her actual height. The problem is, I haven't been keeping track – somehow I never started that tradition of lining my girls up against a doorway and getting out the old #2 pencil.
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They're the latest and greatest non-edible treat for kids: Temporary tattoos. Way cooler than character-themed bandages covering non-existent boo-boos, and with better results than freehand Sharpie drawings, temporary tattoos let kids decorate themselves (instead of the walls--key!) without consequence.
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For some reason, finding a photo ornament to hang on the tree is like looking for a recipe for no-calorie cheesecake--it's out there, but you're not gonna like it.
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We've highlighted many a bib here at Cool Mom Picks and I am firm believer that bibs are a necessity through toddlerdom.Which is not to say that I ever remember to actually bring them anywhere.
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Although I love form and fashion, I'm a sucker for function as well. In fact I nearly cried tears of joy when shopping for baby stuff and discovered a combination baby swing/high chair combo. That's why the flash card and mobile combination from Wee Gallery makes me happy as a clam.
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It's one thing when you sniff your kid's clean plastic juice cup and it smells like a menagerie of the last few days of delightful drinks. Ick. But it's a whole other issue when you read about the leakage of chemicals from the plastic into your kid's digestive systems. That's just plain bad news.
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After addressing way too many of my two-year-old's birthday invites, I realized the only return address labels I had were the free ones from charities that remind you you still need to send them a little something-something in return. These labels aren't so bad on a credit card bill, but perhaps not the greatest choice for my fancy photo cards and personal letters.
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With all the lovely fall and winter illnesses headed our way, plus the whole potty training thing looming, I figure it's time to get the hand washing thing down. Except in my daughter's mind, you'd think that "washing up" was another expression for "getting a shot."
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I'm a little weird when it comes to my baby's pacifier. While of course I'll pop in the closest one at hand at bedtime (or during meltdowns), it makes me a little wonky to give her say, the purple one when she's wearing green and orange. Her dad thinks I'm nuts. But my feeling is, as long as we have one that matches the outfit, why not use it?
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I'll never forget the morning of The Big Meeting at work, when my little girl Rosie was about 6 months old. I was just about to walk out the door -- when suddenly she horked all over my best suit. I had protected my shoulder with a burpcloth, but still ended up with a line of spit-up dribbling down my back and all over my clean pants which of course I didn't notice until I was already at the office.
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I'd love to be one of those moms who makes cool Jello jigglers and star shaped sandwiches. But alas, my sole attempt at creating a Mickey Mouse pancake for my daughter ended up looking more like someone had just spilled... ... [More]
With all the scary stuff in the news about lead in lunchboxes, I'm leaning towards the old reliable brown bags when my daughter hits "bring your lunch" age. But little did I know, today's lunch bags can be just as good for your kids as the food you put inside it. Cheetos not withstanding.
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I can't pinpoint the exact moment it hit me, but I remember feverishly rummaging through my daughter's drawers trying to find the bibs I had buried during my misguided early "this child will never ever be caught in a bib" days. And then I saw the awful bibs I actually owned and quickly shoved them back.
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My kitchen is overflowing with useful but highly unattractive items designed to clean, sanitize, and organize baby feeding paraphernalia. I'm sure visitors wonder what kind of illicit chemistry lab we're running with all the clinical looking gizmos and gadgets covering every inch of counter space. Fortunately, our friends at Skip*Hop – yes, makers of those great diaper bags – have brought harmony back to the kitchen.
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There's something so sweetly simple about an infant, especially when it comes to the feeding. But then, after the rice cereal and stage one foods are no longer sufficient, the panic sets in. (Admit it - just a little.)
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You really haven't lived until you've been peed on by your baby boy...in the eye. Or even worse, when he pees in his own eye. Call me crazy, but I prefer to skip this portion of the diaper change and get on with the cooing and toe nibbling. Which is why I love the Whizz Kid Weeblock.
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It is a known fact that the phenomenon known as Pregnancy Brain is a misnomer, as it lasts well into that first postpartum year. I swear it took a good six months for me to remember to write down the pediatrician appointments, let alone actually showing up on the right day. If i had had a Busy Babe organizer, I might have been a little...well, more organized.
I remember those simple days when I was the sole decision-maker of nursery decor. But then my daughter turned two and suddenly everything had to have that darn pudgy yellow bear on it.
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I've had a thing for robots ever since Lost in Space. It continued with Rosie from the Jetsons, and then of course, R2D2--who, between he and C3PO, was clearly "the cute one."
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Moms of binky users know this scenario well: You give her the pacifier. She sticks it in her mouth, then spikes it on the floor. You dive to pick it up, wipe it off on the nearest sleeve, and pop it back in her mouth, all within the 5-second grace period you have before the wailing begins.
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The pressure to outdo, outspend, outimpress when it comes to your child's birthday party is extraordinary. We're not necessarily advocates of extravagance, but we understand that sometimes you just can't resist going all out where the kiddo is concerned. In which case, have we got an idea for your next bash.
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When I found out I was having a baby boy, I quickly bought the most
masculine looking car seat I could find. Blue--dark blue--punctuated with every shade of blue. So what do I do if I have a baby girl next and I'm bitten by the pink bug, I wondered. I'd hate to toss a perfectly good car seat over the aesthetics.
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The first time they throw the bottle on the ground, it's kind of cute. They laugh, you bend over, and like the naive parent that you are, you give it back. But after doing it fifteen times straight, you realize that it's not so cute, and neither are herniated discs or painkillers.
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After being quarantined for three months with a tiny infant thanks to the advice of some old school pediatricians, I was ready to get out of house - rainy fall weather be damned. This is where I learned that my child thinks that blankets are for kicking to the ground, even in 40 degree temperatures.
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Ever since I got wind of the whole latex balloons are the devil stuff, I've been distraught. While I would hate for my daughter's birthday celebrations to be entirely balloon free, I also don't need to decorate the place with a bunch of colorful choking hazards.
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Check writing may not be as efficient as a debit card or as satisfying as handling actual cash, but to me it's enjoyable in an old-fashioned pen to paper sort of way. But then again, I still own casette tapes.
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I try to lay low during my infrequent workouts. No fancy footwear or coordinating clothes to bring any attention to myself or my built-by-Krispy Kreme hips. But with one of these Euro-chic aluminum SIGG water bottles at Reusable Bags, I'm bound to up my gym status without even joining the marathon club.
My back hurts. New moms know what I'm talking about--it's all that lugging around baby blankets and baggies full of Cheerios and water bottles and diapers. And in my case, multiple hats. Always multiple hats.
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The nursing pillow: The number one item on every baby registry. The nursing pillow: The number one ugliest textile in my home. Finally, FINALLY someone has come up with a solution.
Are you a member of the scrap paper/atm receipt/used envelope scribblers club? The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. And considering my husband has a penchant for throwing away any piece of paper that is not attached to a spiral binding, I'm in desperate need of some list therapy.
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Maybe you're a champ with the chopsticks now, but do you remember how hard it was to get the hang of it? I bet you stabbed your Moo Shu Pork at least once (or worse) before the nice server made you a set of tong-sticks so you could eat more than three bites an hour.
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I'm happy to lend out my daughter's 1,278 books, however, I can't be bothered penning our name and phone number in every single one. But without some type of identifying mark, I have a feeling I'll never see them again.
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As a new mom, I had heard that swaddling was the answer to my sleep deprivation. I tried to make that perfectly tight burrito blanket the nurses achieved so effortlessly in the hospital, only for my daughter to free her hands in a matter of seconds and commence screaming.
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While every new mom-to-be has an insane list of things she needs (wipe warmers not withstanding), there's nothing cooler than getting her something she needs but doesn't yet know she needs.
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Regardless of how not competitive you are (we know you're not) and how much you're not keeping up with the other mommies (we know you're cooler than that), deep down, you still kind of want your kid's friends to leave... ... [More]
When it comes to baby gifts, I don't want to be the practical mom who gives the ten-pack of store brand burp cloths. I want to be the fun mom! The one who gives something that will never be spit up on, peed on, or pooped on over the course of its lifespan.
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I have a child with a peanut allergy and I can't tell you how many times I've told people about it, only to watch them cluelessly offer her something made with that very ingredient. Hello? Stop trying to kill my daughter, thankyouverymuch.
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When I was young I wanted to be an indian princess. I didn't know from PC terms or that this wasn't an actual career that one could pursue; I just knew that Tiger Lily was the prettiest thing I had ever seen in my whole seven years of existence.
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Back when I was decorating the nursery, I was not exactly in love with the cookie-cutter mobiles in all of the baby chain stores. Come to think of it, if they had actually been cookie cutters I'd have liked them way more than the cheaply assembled satin ballerinas or polyester barnyard animals hanging from plastic hangers.
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As all moms know, pregnancy is the source of far too many beauty woes. Then just when you're starting to feel that second trimester glow you've been promised--out pops the bellybutton.
If you haven't noticed, poker is taking over the world. And if you've got a spousal unit like my husband, you've seen enough Texas Hold 'Em on TV that you could probably beat him at his own game.
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Bibs are a funny thing. You swear you never want to use them, but after a few soaking wet shirts (thanks to the drool machine known as your child), you get over it. And fast. I'm pretty sure I washed... ... [More]
Father’s Day is upon us, and why punish Dad with another bottle of Brut (by Faberge) when you can blow his mind with the Sonos digital music system
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For the style-conscious SAHD, your options are pretty slim if you want to avoid lugging your wife's floral diaper tote around town. I couldn’t ever get stuff in and out of my messenger diaper bag, and last summer’s big vacation proved the rule that whatever you’re trying to find in your backpack—diaper, bib, camera, guidebook—will invariably be at the very bottom.
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Ironing, cooking, cleaning, scrubbing: Hardly my description of a day well-spent. But we may have discovered one way to overcome your reluctance to plow through your chore list on a sunny Sunday. BlipShop, the online boutique of British mum and... ... [More]
It's hard for me to keep track of my multiple kids with their bursting-at-the-seams schedules, food allergies, bedtimes, assorted likes, dislikes and various pertinent telephone numbers--let aone for the sitter or the grandparents. From now on, I'm going to sync... ... [More]
For moms who aren't quite ready to be a mom again just yet, an exceedingly chic solution: The Prophopot. These ceramic pots were made for the very singular purpose of nestling your condom collection in style, as the tell-tale lids... ... [More]
As if I don't have a hard enough time falling asleep already, I am constantly dealing with my night-owl neighbors whose bright kitchen light shines right into our bedroom window.Tying to avoid any neighborly conflicts, I'm thinking of scoring an... ... [More]
Feeling a little unhip these days? Having a hard time understanding "the kids" on MTV? Don't worry. We've all been there. We know how those Gymboree classes, playgroups, and never-ending Barney episodes can suck the cool right out of you. So don’t... ... [More]