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I’ve just written my first post over at The Soccer Mom Vote, a place where I can explore my deeper, less sillier thoughts. If you feel like being kind to a floating head like me, head on over there and see if you dig the more serious side of DYM.

Some people find the face of the Virgin Mary imprinted on their French toast.

Some people read the messages in a cup of tea leaves.

I find signs like this in my sink when I leave an old spaghetti bowl to soak.

If you walk past a grape on the floor and think, “I should pick that up later,” you will be the one to step on it. Guaranteed.

At BlogHer I learned that business executives are a lot like me.

First of all, in order to be successful they need to have a plan and some good management.

I got to meet one of my all time home organization idols Kathy Peel. Yes I have home organization idols. When I saw that AOL Body was offering the chance to eat lunch with Kathy, I. Flipped. Out. When Dan and I got married, I was troubled with the thought of quitting my professional life to be a baby machine and I decided to read everything I could on Home Management, Organization and Child Rearing so that I could really start thinking of my mom life as a career. I wanted to put every bit as much effort into my new role as I had in the business world.

Kathy’s books really spoke to me because she writes from a business perspective, using solid business practices and team building techniques to whip any home into shape. She helps you find solutions that work for you and she’s just a wonderful person. I think I got a little drool on her jean jacket as she was signing my book and she pretended not to mind. Honestly, there are very few celebrities who could get me that excited. (No, not even the Backstreet Boys.)

So, I want to run my home like a business, a fun, slightly messy, relaxed sort of business. I’ve let a lot of her advice get lost in the process of OH-MY-WORD-I-HAVE-CHILDREN-HELP-ME-ITIS, but last weekend Kathy got me back on track and I’m ready to get serious again.

Secondly, they like to give away free stuff, free stuff with their name plastered all over it, free stuff that for some reason ignites controversy in the blogosphere, but free stuff nonetheless. I like to give away free stuff too! I love it.

If I could have a job where I just handed out fabulous prizes all day long, I would take that job. Actually, I sort of have that job already. “Does anyone want a peanut butter sandwich, a clean bum, a rubberband to play with? I’ve got everything to make your wildest dreams come true!”

Going back to writing your name all over your stuff, did you ever see the Sesame Street episode with Donald Grump, a Grouch who owns more trash than anyone else in the world and insists on writing his name all over all his trash? I did. And I liked it. And I thought of it when I saw the new Trump Towers in Chicago with “TRUMP” written on every pillar. Um… yeah.

Third and lastly, when my kids fight over a toy, I’ve been known to put it in timeout. According to my architectural riverboat tour guide, the executives at Amoco were fighting so bitterly over corner office space when their 80 story tower (photo above) went up that the CEO had all the corners removed from the building and put them in timeout indefinitely.

Sometimes you need a helmet… to protect your head… when you fall over repeatedly… because your helmet’s too big.

My flight has been delayed for 3 or 4 years now and I’m getting to know the many citizens living in this airport community. There’s “Red Cap” reading a book by Vince Flynn, an older man with a mustache and no beard who CAN NOT believe that someone could be stupid enough to leave their laptop in the plastic tray after going through security. Can. Not. Believe. It.

There’s Rag Reader, perusing In Style to unearth the deats surrounding Brangelina’s latest breakup. I eye the cover of her magazine. Gradually my pity for their invaded privacy turns to disdain for people who read that trash, turns to morbid curiosity, turns to a burning NEED TO KNOW what kind of needless argument could have caused the split turns to a great desire to stroke their hair and counsel them through the hard times.

Angry Business Man seems to gain power pellets by yelling into his phone in FRONT of other people, the same way I gain them by using CAPS in randOM places and stockpiling bushels of shwag. Finding an appropriate moment to wear my Butterball Turkey button is beyond the scope of my limited imagination, and yet it’s currently keeping my 10 ugly t-shirts and foot-long pen company in a luggage truck somewhere out on the tarmac. I think it’s on the tarmac. I’m pretty sure my plane isn’t. My airline does not like to give out sensitive information, information like “WHERE ON THIS EARTH IS THE *BEAUTY LUVIN’ PLANE?”

I may post again with more than you ever wanted to know about the conference today since it appears I’ll be making my permanent home on this grey pleather chair with Jenny and Eve.

When it became apparent that I would be making like Tom Hanks and semi-permanently inhabiting the airport, I called home and told Dan to prepare for life as a professional blogger and Laylee and Magoo that they’d better learn how to warm their own spaghetti-o’s. Laylee asked, “What have you been doing in Chicago lately?”

Do you wanna know what it’s like to be a worm’s breath away from Oprah’s ex-apartment building? I’ll keep you in suspense for a moment longer. Right now I’ve got to build a spitting fountain in concourse D for Catherine Zeta Jones and eat some pizza.

*Jenny was recently told that she should wash her son’s mouth out with soap if he keeps using foul expressions like “DANG IT!” This weekend we helped her come up with more positive phrases she could teach him in place of his most heinous language. The best we’ve come up with are MARSHMALLOW PEEPS! PRECIOUS MOMENTS! and Luvin’ BEAUTY Joy! Nicer alternatives, no? May save her little miscreant son from a life of crime and offensiveness.

With Kathryn at BlogHer, I’ve taken the helm around here. Let me tell you, it’s been surprisingly difficult.

No, not taking care of the kids. I mean, it’s really hard work, but I’ve been solo with them before, so it wasn’t a surprise how much work Kathryn does on a daily basis to keep our ship sailing. Since I’m the one hanging out all day with the kiddos, I figured I’d try my hand at the blog-about-how-cute-the-kids-are thing, and that’s what I found surprisingly tough.

How does she remember all the cute things the kids say? They are spouting cuteness at all times except when I have something to write with. There was at least one really, really great Laylee-ism, where she took some colloquialism and turned it funny somehow, and I cannot remember what it was. I’m so glad that Kathryn captures a few precious drops of toddleric wit and wisdom here on the blog. We’ll always have some little-kid fun-ness preserved here, long after they’ve broken the four foot barrier.

And then, when does she find the time to turn their antics into blog posts? Well, it’s true; I know where she gets some of the time :)… but still–it’s a big investment.

All of this on top of being the World’s Greatest Mom. (As the World’s Greatest Dad, I am authorized to write that about her with Proper Noun Casing.)

Thanks for all you do, baby.

Well, it’s the day before she comes home (well, it’s after midnight, so it’s technically the last day of the trip), and this is what I’ve got: one picture and one story.

Laylee dipping her cantaloupe in ketchup:

A few nights ago at teeth brushing time, Magoo wanted to rinse and spit just like Laylee. We don’t use toothpaste with him yet, so he doesn’t really need to, but it would be a good skill for him to acquire, so I hand him a cup of water to try it. He takes a swig, swishes it around, tips his head over the sink, and … *gulp* swallows. The lack of water to spit disturbs him. He repeats this two or three times, getting more frustrated with each failed spit attempt. I hope he didn’t notice me chuckling. Before I took the cup away, he did manage to get one good spit in. Good times.

I can hardly wait to snuggle on the couch with my schmoop while she regales me with stories of her adventures. Come home soon, baby!

I promise I have leave but I am away.

I am in Chicago. (Yes, that’s Shannon in the video!)

And I am in Parenting.

You should really be paying attention.
Seriously. Liz, Tish or Laina are probably saying something fascinating.

Maybe you’re saying something fascinating.

Maybe you should be.

Shannon says everyone’s doing giveaways and maybe she’s right…

Since moving to Seattle we’ve put thousands of miles on Vinny, driving back and forth to visit stubborn family all over the country who refuse to pick up stakes and move in next door.

I was even insane enough to travel alone with 2 kids, 14 hours each way to visit my parents this spring. Very seldom do I come across breakthroughs in travel with offspring. This 4th of July week, I came across two.

1. Wash the Car — Every time we stop for gas, the kids want to get out and run around. This usually involves yelling at calling loudly with love and logic to them as they dodge semi trucks in the parking lot, wrenching away the candy that they are loudly clutching to their bosoms in the convenience store and helping them collect cigarette butts in the “field” behind the trash bin.

No more!

We now play a new game entitled “Wash the Car” in which the children, in fact, cleanse the family vehicle. While Mommy’s pumping gas and daddy’s powdering his nose, the kids each get their own squeegee and are instructed to clean the car as well as they can until the car wash timer clicks. (It sounds a lot like the handle on a gas pump releasing.)

They love it, especially when the washing fluid is pink, and I feel a bit better paying $10/gallon for gas if they throw in a couple of gallons of fun for free.

2. Toobs of Joy — Until this trip, I had yet to find a toy that would keep my toddler busy for more than 30 seconds while he was strapped into our mobile torture chamber.

At the drugstore in our little town, the drugstore where the pharmacists have a baby swing and a pak-n-play behind the counter to keep their kids close at hand, I purchased a toob of joy.

Magoo sat with the Farm Toob on his lap and joyfully emptied out each animal, identified it loudly and then shoved it back in again. He continued like this for at least an hour. As far as I can remember, Magoo has never done anything for an hour since he spent that long keeping himself plugged in my nether-regions during child birth. Apart from one minor incident with a rooster wedged under his butt for a couple of hours, the Farm Toob experience was one of bliss and joy. They’re detailed, well-made and perfectly pudgy-fist-sized.

The Farm Toob is my favorite all time road trip toy and now I want to collect them all.

Even more than that, I want you to have them. So I called the manufacturer Safari LTD and they very kindly sent me two gift packs with three toobs each and some other fun stuff to give away to my readers.

Sadly they included no gift for me, but then I already have the Farm Toob and the memory of an hour of joy on the road.

Leave a comment to be put in a random drawing for the gift packs. I’ll draw 2 winners Friday July 20th at midnight PST.

I’d love to hear your road trip ideas, but you can just say, “Hi,” or, “Give me plastic,” and you’ll still be entered.

If you don’t win, you can buy them here, here, here and here. I’ll be buying them from ye olde tiny drugstore down the street.

***Update – The winners are comment #91 and #99, April C. and Seabird. Congratulations and thanks for all the great tips!***

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