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I have two beautiful girls and love everything that is about them. It seems though that there are a few people in my life and out who think boys are better. I do not think one sex is better then the other but I am darn proud of the girls I got. We are a different species and I am happy to be given the chance to raise strong, independent woman! So this group is made for those who support us moms in raising the woman of the future!

My Baby

Posted By urchin7980 on Feb 22, 2008 at 6:54AM

I am sitting here playing on the computer and can hear her in the background playing. It seems just like yesterday I had her and now she is crawling off to the platroom to play. No need for mommy to entertain all the time. I am so sad that in 2 months she will 1...time flies. I always start missing having a newborn around whe my daughters keep having a birthday. I try to hold on to every day and every memory because I will never get it back. I imagine one day I will be sitting here not believing that she is now 18, an adult. I wish time could just stand still, just for a little while.

Tagged with: baby

Connie Talbot

Posted By Schaianne on Dec 31, 2007 at 8:48AM

Wow ... just ... WOW! This you guys have got to see!


Tagged with: child singer, Connie Talbot

Toy Recalls

Posted By Schaianne on Nov 9, 2007 at 10:18PM

Considering all the toys that have been recalled lately, I thought this site was very good! Check it out - http://sugarloving.com/770088

Tagged with: Homemade Toys, kids, toys

The Golden Gift

Posted By Schaianne on Oct 25, 2007 at 6:38PM

The Golden Gift

Some time ago, a friend of mine punished his 3-year old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the box was empty. He yelled at her, "Don't you know when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?"

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it;s not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and begged for forgiveness. My friend told me that he kept that old box by his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as parents has been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.


Tagged with: inspirational

If you had to descride your labor experience.....

Posted By BETTYROCKETS on Oct 18, 2007 at 1:35PM

WE LOVE BIRTH STORIES.....ENJOY!!! (mominator♥)

Caught in the Act | http://www.dadgonemad.com/

Posted By Schaianne on Oct 16, 2007 at 6:14AM

Caught In The Act

Here’s how you know when you’re completely hosed:

When you arrive home after an especially disgusting day at the office, two whiny, clingy, catastrophically tired children greet you at the door. They grab hold and hang on you like a wet towel on a hook. When you finally unlatch their superheroic kung-fu grasps from your legs, you walk over to kiss your wife. As soon as your lips separate from hers, she says, “Don’t forget I’m going out tonight, honey. You’ll have the kids to yourself.”

See? Hosed.

A smart man would have run for his life. A man with even a shred of inclination toward self-preservation would have negotiated some sort of mutual understanding with his wife – an agreement that a personally offensive requirement such as this would need to be properly “appreciated” upon her return. But I am neither smart nor a particularly strong negotiator. I silently acquiesced because for some stupid reason I still feel an obligation to be a father – even in times when all I want is a beer and the remote control – because I just can’t get past the fact that I love those kids with the white hot fury of 7,000 suns. And lemme tell you, it’s a real inconvenience sometimes.

She left. She got into her minivan and drove away, abandoning me there with Marty McWhineypants and his lovely assistant, Sally Snottybottom. They kvetched all night. Daddyiwantsomegrapes. Daddycanyoureadthistome. Daddycanwehavedessert. Daddydaddydaddy. And when I sat on the floor and played Legos with them, it was never enough. The airplane wasn’t big enough. The monkey’s leg fell off. The house had no windows. “Fix it, daddy!”

By bathtime I was cooked. I hadn’t eaten dinner, hadn’t checked my email, hadn’t done a thing for myself. And still: the whining. The first three times I asked them to get undressed the response was this:


The fourth time was different. I didn’t ask.


My tone was sufficiently assholish to motivate action. Forty-five seconds later they were butt-naked, freshly pee-peed and standing under a running shower.

I left them there for a moment. I needed 30 seconds of peace – enough time to throw together a PB&J and fire up the computer. I began to wonder to myself how stay-at-home parents endure this all day. How do they stay sane? How do they—

Hold it.

It’s too quiet.

It shouldn’t be this quiet. This can’t be good.

I set down my sandwich and stormed back to the bathroom, all the while girding myself for the carnage I knew I’d see when I got there. “If they’re drawing on the shower door with my shaving cream again, they can forget about ever seeing the sun again.”

When I got to the bathroom, I looked inside and saw something that rocked me to my core.

He was washing her hair.

I stopped, backed up a step and watched in silence. They didn’t know I was there.

He spoke softly to her. He told her it was time to rinse (a step he knows she hates) and instructed her to turn her back to the water. He helped her bend her head back to let the water cascade down the back of her head. He positioned his right hand on her back for support and his left hand vertically at her hairline to prevent the spray from going into her eyes.

I felt a tear run down my right cheek. My chest wanted to explode. How do they do this? How do they become so special? And how do I forget that they have this incredible capacity to love each other?

Fatherhood plays tricks on you. It sets you up to pound your chest and raise your voice and demand compliance from your children. You learn to presume guilt. And then, without warning, it pulls the rug out from under your anger, leaving you out of breath in a blubbering state of gratitude.

I love that about it.

Tagged with: dads, parenting, kids


Posted By BETTYROCKETS on Oct 15, 2007 at 5:23PM



Tagged with: mothers, pregnancy, girls

Dove Onslaught Campaign

Posted By Schaianne on Oct 9, 2007 at 9:45AM
Tagged with: beauty, kids, Fashion

Magazine for women with daughters

Posted By apsara1 on Sep 12, 2007 at 9:31AM

I followed a link about raising "Hardy girls" and found this magazine


My eldest is going to be 9 in January and of course, it's a slow process of detachment where she's been gradually growing up and gradually becoming more interested in tweenish things, and gradually becoming more influenced by her friends - but still, as slow as this process is - it's kind of scary.

we had an incident yesterday that involved a friend of hers calling her about an urgent problem she needed help with, with suddenly resulted in my daughter wanting to know how to spell Anonymous, and also holing herself up in the master bedroom where one of our computers is.

I heard enough of the conversation to know that it involved her friend and a boy and a crush (allegedly the boy had a crush on her friend and her friend was freaked out).

I deduced that my daughter was writing some kind of letter to him, and signing it 'Anonymous', but I didn't want to challenge her on that - because frankly, the more pushy I am, the more I'll push her away.

But at the same time, i felt a little helpless. Change happens. Inevitable. Like Stevie Nicks said when I was in highschool - time makes you bolder , even children get older, now i'm getting older too - this statement still resonates. I *have* gotten older, and my daughter's birth year is no longer easy to find in the pulldown menu - I have to hit the down arrow a bunch of times to get there. A testament to how many years have passed since the moment I gave birth to her at home, in front of stunned EMTs who didn't believe me when I said it was too late to get on the stretcher.

It's never easy, nor should it be - part of what makes it so intensely joyous is the fierceness of the experience - and yet, it's helpful to have guiding voices. This magazine (daughters) seems rational to me,, and so I've subscribed. Thought i'd post the link if anyone else is interested.

This is the link


This is a link to the Hardy Girls site


And a link to new moon mag for girls


The way they perceive the world

Posted By apsara1 on Sep 1, 2007 at 4:25AM

My 6yo daughter is so concerned about the future. She worries that if she doesn't marry someone she already knows she might forget their name.

She's concerned that she won't ever learn to cook. drive. do math. read. So she won't be able to marry or leave my house.

It's so poignant/funny the way a young child takes in all the inputs around them and comes up with this kind of simplified picture of things.

Adorable - and this kind of chatter makes me want to freeze this moment (like the Rush song) - make each impression a little bit stronger.

Already so many adorable traits, habits, malapropisms have gone by the wayside. I've kept journals and video taped a lot, but in recent years I haven't been as sharply on the ball about doing so as when they were littler girls.

The eldest! My online album is outdated. She's 5 here. 8 now!The eldest! My online album is outdated. She's 5 here. 8 now!The baby. My online album is outdated. She's 3 here, and 6 now.The baby. My online album is outdated. She's 3 here, and 6 now.