<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYGQHg5eSp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579</id><updated>2011-11-27T17:02:01.621-08:00</updated><title>Mommy Mayhem: NYC</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/MommyMayhemNyc" /><feedburner:info uri="mommymayhemnyc" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMBQXY6fSp7ImA9Wx5SFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-2385476670167538193</id><published>2010-08-11T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T18:27:30.815-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-11T18:27:30.815-07:00</app:edited><title>The Truth The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth.</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;Have you ever just been amazed at how smart kids are? My children never cease to amaze me! They come up with the darndest things! They are so brutally honest, they take words very literal and say things with out malignant intent.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;My husband took my middle child to gymnastics as she began her lesson she realized that she had a new instructor as she introduced herself the teacher asked her “when did you turn 4?”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“On my birthday!” she simply responded. The teacher looked at my husband and said “Ask a stupid question, you’ll receive a stupid answer.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;There has been many times that we have asked our oldest child to think ahead to do things before we have to ask her. For example; make her bed, feed the dog, clean her room, and so forth. She has chores that she has to complete in order to get her allowance and if she forgets to do one of her chores, she has to make it up by doing something that is “extra credit,” like throwing the trash out in the house or helping mom clean or something. Well, on one occasion she had to do extra credit and when I went to check her chart I noticed she wrote that she babysat her baby sister. I called her in and asked, “honey, when did you babysit the baby?” she said “ oh, when you were in your bedroom I got her and brought her to play with me.”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;“ okay. when did&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman Bold&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt; &lt;u&gt;I&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt; ask you to babysit her? “ &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;“Mom, that’s the point! Remember you and Dad always tell me to think ahead to not wait ‘til you ask me.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I could not believe my ears. I was stunned as she was right in a very literal sort of way.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I went shopping for a new dress and took my middle child with me. When I was trying on a dress I asked her “what do you think of this one?” her clear answer was “That dress doesn’t make you look fat. You should buy it.” I guess it took me by surprise because I expected her to tell me she liked the color or that she liked the flowers on it or something like that. However, that was NOT what she noticed, she noticed it somehow made me look thinner!! After that I had to buy it!! After all, it’s not every day a dress makes you lose so much weight that your 4-year old notices!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 5.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I love how honest they are and how they just say what they’re thinking. I wish adults could be that way. I asked my husband “wouldn’t it be cool if everyone would just say the truth about what they’re thinking when someone asks??” &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;He quickly responded “No! The world would be full of assholes!”&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-2385476670167538193?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k02DnHTniJ0kUyU3M1mMLE7G6Gg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k02DnHTniJ0kUyU3M1mMLE7G6Gg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k02DnHTniJ0kUyU3M1mMLE7G6Gg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/k02DnHTniJ0kUyU3M1mMLE7G6Gg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/UEtVpOLf_0g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2385476670167538193/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/08/truth-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-truth.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/2385476670167538193?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/2385476670167538193?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/UEtVpOLf_0g/truth-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-truth.html" title="The Truth The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth." /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/08/truth-whole-truth-and-nothing-but-truth.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ABQ3o6cCp7ImA9Wx5TGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-8209903921345976887</id><published>2010-08-04T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T10:09:12.418-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-04T10:09:12.418-07:00</app:edited><title>I’ve Joined The Club!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 19px;"&gt;I have officially joined the club of the “mother’s that have kids that put things up their nose!” I always laughed when a mother would tell me about the time their kid stuck a marble or some other object up their nose. I have always wondered what would possess a child to stick something up their nose. Is it curiosity? Is it a save-it-for-later type of place for them? Do they think they can eat it thru their nose? What is it??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;About a week or so ago, I allowed my two older girls to go wild all day! Or maybe it was an hour or two and it felt like a day! They built a fort. They played non-stop throwing everything in their sight to one another. They took everything out of the closet to find dress-up outfits. They played hide-and-go-seek underneath all the mess they made. Well, somewhere between the dressing up and hide-and-go-seek in the closet my middle child found the ironing board. Apparently while waiting to be found she began picking the foam off the board. For some reason, she decided to stick it up her nose!!! Yes you read correctly, SHE STUCK FOAM FROM THE IRONING BOARD UP HER NOSE!!! I was putting them to bed reading them a bedtime story when all of a sudden she screams!! “ AHH!!!!! Something is inside my nose!!”&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;“Oh calm down you’re fine, go blow your nose” I calmly responded. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Well, she just kept screaming! At that point my oldest child decided to tell me that earlier she had been sticking foam up her nose. My husband and I rushed her in to the bathroom where we could have the most light and proceeded to look up her nose. We grabbed the tweezers and pulled out what seemed to be a small piece of yellow foam but soon realized that it was a pretty big piece of foam. We stood there for a minute or two staring at her and at the foam in disbelief.&amp;nbsp; My child smiled and simply stated “oh yeah I stuck that up my nose!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;“ Why would you do that??” We asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;“I wanted you all to be like are you okay and save me,” she replied.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;And there you have it; she did it for attention!! There was no mysterious reason. There was no imaginary secret hiding place. It was just because she needed attention. I slept with her that night. She was happy. I went to bed thinking about how difficult it must be for her having a baby sister and moving to middle child. I went to sleep thinking of ways to make her feel loved and important. I also went to sleep hoping that this would be the first and last time she stuck something up her nose. I really hope so!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-8209903921345976887?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iGGaIIYwAgnNKXcga201SfbEeOE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iGGaIIYwAgnNKXcga201SfbEeOE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iGGaIIYwAgnNKXcga201SfbEeOE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iGGaIIYwAgnNKXcga201SfbEeOE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/gwXq6x1-c2o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/8209903921345976887/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/08/ive-joined-club.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/8209903921345976887?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/8209903921345976887?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/gwXq6x1-c2o/ive-joined-club.html" title="I’ve Joined The Club!" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/08/ive-joined-club.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEIESXg8cCp7ImA9WxFaGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-1384007541734897</id><published>2010-07-24T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T07:41:48.678-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-24T07:41:48.678-07:00</app:edited><title>To All Of The Great Big Sisters Out There!</title><content type="html">&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TEr7kAFkEoI/AAAAAAAAADE/963-KWNqpi0/s1600/_A022035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TEr7kAFkEoI/AAAAAAAAADE/963-KWNqpi0/s320/_A022035.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;Lately I have been thinking a lot about my oldest daughter. I guess the reason why is not only because she is growing a lot and becoming more of a little lady everyday but also because she is so independent and helpful. I see her and I am so proud of the person she is becoming. I see traits in her that I am positive I never had at her age and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she is the oldest. I was the baby of our family and saw life from a completely different angle. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;She ran into the room when her baby sister was crying and picked her up and told me that her sister wanted to play with her. She took her with her, but as she turned the huge dog bumped into her knocking her down with her sister in her arms. Now, I saw her, she got so scared. But, instead of letting go of her sister to put her arms down to break her own fall, she took the fall and wrapped herself around her sister so that the stroller that was right in front of them would not hit her baby sister but her. The poor thing ended up with a bruise on her arm and another on her leg and bum. After the incident she cried because she was so scared something had happened to her sister. The baby wasn’t even aware that something had gone wrong.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;My oldest daughter is so kind hearted and such a mini-mommy. I see the love she has for her family. It must not be easy being her. After 6 yrs of being an only child we tell her that she is having a baby sister. My mother-in-law then told me something I will never forget. She said, “Can you imagine your husband coming up to you and telling you that he loves you so much that he decided to have another wife to keep you company.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I would be beside myself! Now our second child, she is young and wants to touch and experience everything. She doesn’t care what belongs to whom and gets into everything. Well this enrages my oldest yet she is always there for her helping her reach things, teaching her stuff, and even calming her before bedtime. Now our middle daughter is learning to be a good older sister as well, learning by example from her older sister. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;To all of you loving, caring, giving, selfless, truth-telling older sisters, I take my hat off to you! I can tell you that without our oldest child we would not be complete!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-1384007541734897?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNXbNGzSuxOKvHCdwDH2AG9ff3E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNXbNGzSuxOKvHCdwDH2AG9ff3E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNXbNGzSuxOKvHCdwDH2AG9ff3E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNXbNGzSuxOKvHCdwDH2AG9ff3E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/0AIC-IBlKq0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1384007541734897/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-all-of-great-big-sisters-out-there.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/1384007541734897?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/1384007541734897?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/0AIC-IBlKq0/to-all-of-great-big-sisters-out-there.html" title="To All Of The Great Big Sisters Out There!" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TEr7kAFkEoI/AAAAAAAAADE/963-KWNqpi0/s72-c/_A022035.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-all-of-great-big-sisters-out-there.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMAR309cSp7ImA9WxFbFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-3268183128463388160</id><published>2010-07-06T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T19:40:46.369-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-06T19:40:46.369-07:00</app:edited><title>Taking A Bite Out Of The Big Apple!</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 19px;"&gt;I rarely have the time to stop and smell the roses with the girls and all. Here in NYC though there is just an abundance of things that just catch your eye no matter what!&amp;nbsp; I just had to take photos and share with you all. After all, it is part of my NYC adventures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 19px;"&gt;Legoland has a new flagship store at Rockefeller Center and outside their store they built huge apples out of Legos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDOzH25kzGI/AAAAAAAAABY/3YhcwdZHjso/s1600/photo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDOzH25kzGI/AAAAAAAAABY/3YhcwdZHjso/s320/photo+2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;It caught my attention because my middle child asked me if that was the “Big apple we were gonna take a bite of?" &amp;nbsp;Dumbfounded by this question I asked, “what?”&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;“Yeah,” she said, “you said we were moving here because daddy wanted to take a bite out of the Big Apple!!” I laughed so hard I almost fell over!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Belvedere Castle in Central Park. Built in the highest natural point in NYC. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO0B_5LS0I/AAAAAAAAABg/FFXIUSjQ2Is/s1600/IMG_3726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO0B_5LS0I/AAAAAAAAABg/FFXIUSjQ2Is/s320/IMG_3726.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;We met up with some friends to relax in the shade on a super hot day. We enjoyed some cold wine and champagne. It was super-nice to have some adult time, since I had began to speak baby-talk to my husband. I think they enjoyed playing with my kids too.&amp;nbsp; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO08CjP-9I/AAAAAAAAABo/ofEDnIIJvSw/s1600/IMG_3733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO08CjP-9I/AAAAAAAAABo/ofEDnIIJvSw/s320/IMG_3733.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Around the corner from our apt. there is a park called Carl Schurz Park. What makes this park interesting is that it’s not only the home of Gracie Mansion (official home of the mayor of New York) but it has amazing views of the East River. &amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO1T92oyrI/AAAAAAAAABw/1TWBpHjxYm8/s1600/photo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO1T92oyrI/AAAAAAAAABw/1TWBpHjxYm8/s320/photo+3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;We took the girls to Central Park but at a different end of the park. In the middle of the park there was ballerina. At first we thought she was a statue but it was a real person fully painted and in a tutu! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO1g2iEysI/AAAAAAAAAB4/BlPEBVAQX1Q/s1600/IMG_0924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDO1g2iEysI/AAAAAAAAAB4/BlPEBVAQX1Q/s320/IMG_0924.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"&gt;Of course my middle daughter went nuts because she loves everything ballet! My life is definitely full of chaos, tears, and dirty diapers, but it is wonderful to explore the marvels of New York City with my kids!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-3268183128463388160?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o9SRzvtvzyCo4a7qssGGNbcgbZ0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o9SRzvtvzyCo4a7qssGGNbcgbZ0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o9SRzvtvzyCo4a7qssGGNbcgbZ0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/o9SRzvtvzyCo4a7qssGGNbcgbZ0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/ZGaNrOzg6Ro" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/3268183128463388160/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/taking-bite-out-of-big-apple.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/3268183128463388160?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/3268183128463388160?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/ZGaNrOzg6Ro/taking-bite-out-of-big-apple.html" title="Taking A Bite Out Of The Big Apple!" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDOzH25kzGI/AAAAAAAAABY/3YhcwdZHjso/s72-c/photo+2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/taking-bite-out-of-big-apple.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYAQHY7eCp7ImA9WxFbE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-2699941374200971366</id><published>2010-07-05T08:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T08:02:21.800-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-05T08:02:21.800-07:00</app:edited><title>Jewerly Giveaway!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/hiphophippos"&gt;http://www.etsy.com/people/hiphophippos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDHxtkJ8teI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ciD32ldvBbk/s320/necklace+2.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I stumbled upon this awesome blog called Fried Pink Tomatoe. Its doing a giveaway! I fell in love with this jewelry and hope to win! If not I will have to buy one because the necklace's are just darling!!&lt;br /&gt;
You should enter! Just click on the following link.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://friedpinktomato.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-first-giveaway.html#comments"&gt;http://friedpinktomato.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-first-giveaway.html#comments&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
The photo above is a picture of one of my favorite necklace's.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The first link will take you to the actual store!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-2699941374200971366?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2KZzAZo1kXn6snCKErBYjUAmGSQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2KZzAZo1kXn6snCKErBYjUAmGSQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2KZzAZo1kXn6snCKErBYjUAmGSQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2KZzAZo1kXn6snCKErBYjUAmGSQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/3MMTEJA-InE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://friedpinktomato.blogspot.com/2010/07/my-first-giveaway.html#comments" title="Jewerly Giveaway!" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2699941374200971366/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/jewerly-giveaway.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/2699941374200971366?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/2699941374200971366?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/3MMTEJA-InE/jewerly-giveaway.html" title="Jewerly Giveaway!" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TDHxtkJ8teI/AAAAAAAAABQ/ciD32ldvBbk/s72-c/necklace+2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/jewerly-giveaway.html</feedburner:origLink><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="enclosure" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~5/e1TZg0iHv8Q/hiphophippos" length="0" /><feedburner:origEnclosureLink>http://www.etsy.com/people/hiphophippos</feedburner:origEnclosureLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQNQnc-eyp7ImA9WxFUGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-4207475609933800633</id><published>2010-06-30T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T08:56:33.953-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-30T08:56:33.953-07:00</app:edited><title>Stepford Mom</title><content type="html">&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;After a long and tiresome day I came home. I yanked baby off my hair and laid her on the bed. As I turned to grab a very much-needed glass of water, my other two began to kill each other. Screaming, hitting, crying! Full blown out fight! My baby begins to cry. She got scared from the loud screams and cries of the other two. There I am with baby in arms screaming and trying to pull them apart, with them almost hitting baby. It was then when I realized that I was wasting energy. I left the room to calm baby, the phone rings. “Hello…”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“Hi honey, what is that noise??” the caller asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“Oh, the girls are killing each other…” I respond.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“Oh well sometimes they just need to do that. Can you videotape them?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I laughed as my mother-in-law and I proceeded to talk about motherhood.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;As I think back I think it was that instant when the beginning of my overwhelmed feeling began to hit me. I sit here writing with tears in my eyes I’m so overwhelmed. I mean, what in the world was I thinking? How could I ever imagine that I would be able to be a good, none-the-less sane, mother of these 3 amazingly beautiful little girls?? I mean, I can’t rest, I find myself complaining to my husband constantly (I’m tired of hearing myself, can you imagine how he feels??).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I wake up with gunk on my hair, yes! I woke up with gum stuck to my hair today, not to mention that I woke up to the warm sensation of my tiny baby’s pee leaking out of her diaper. I go to sleep with my kids crying EVERY DAY for one reason or another and no matter what I do I feel like they hate me!! I clean and clean and, no matter how hard I try, this place is always a mess and it’s TINY!!! How I can never finish cleaning is simply beyond me! Even though I smell like pee, bubble gum and cleaning supplies and I whine and cry uncontrollably my husband still tries to get “cuddle-y” with me every night (If I’d let him)!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I feel like I’ve been walking around like a zombie. Doing all that I need to do but at times I don’t even remember what I was doing. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;My four year old walked in to the bedroom and said mom what are you doing I’m looking for the pen I was writing with, I have no idea where I put it. “Mommy,” she said with a smile, “it’s on your head!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;I reached up and it was! How in the world?? &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;Later that day my oldest got hit by the 4yr old on the head and began to cry then the 4 yr old began to cry so I began to cry, After a few minutes they stopped crying. “Mom,” asked my oldest. “Would you like me to call dad?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“No, I’m okay sometimes grownups need to cry too! Are you okay?” I asked. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;She said, “Yeah, it didn’t hurt that much, it just scared me.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;Then I asked the little one why she was crying she said because she did not mean to hit her sister. I said okay and we all continued with our day. Later that day I was sweeping and asked my oldest to bring me “the trash picker upper” she brought it to me after she asked a billion times what I meant I said the thing that I…I … I… what’s it called the… the…&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;“THE DUST PAN” said my daughter laughing uncontrollably! I began to laugh too so much I almost peed my pants then I began to cry because I was so scattered brain I forgot the name of the darn dust pan!!!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;Yesterday my husband came home and gave me an hour off and it felt so good. They came back from the park and I embraced my tiny in my arms and felt like she had been gone forever. Then, my other two walk in full of kisses and hugs for me. In comes my hubby, with smiles and stories about his time out with the girls. I can’t help but feel so guilty. How could I get so overwhelmed that I need to be alone. How could I feel smothered by a man that loves me so much he doesn’t care how I look or smell?? I look at them and I can’t imagine myself without them! They are my life! Then it dawns on me:&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"&gt;“Oh Yes!! I’m only HUMAN! Not a STEPFORD MOM!!!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-4207475609933800633?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VnIwTUmi2EXhzs9Un91oT0eABVg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VnIwTUmi2EXhzs9Un91oT0eABVg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VnIwTUmi2EXhzs9Un91oT0eABVg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VnIwTUmi2EXhzs9Un91oT0eABVg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/ZB7n5KgKdTw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4207475609933800633/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/stepford-mom.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/4207475609933800633?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/4207475609933800633?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/ZB7n5KgKdTw/stepford-mom.html" title="Stepford Mom" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/stepford-mom.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUNRH88cSp7ImA9WxFUEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-5156434919629535816</id><published>2010-06-21T17:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T17:41:35.179-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-21T17:41:35.179-07:00</app:edited><title>The Cowboy Showdown</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCAGWcN6wbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/zQWp_8NzyZA/s1600/photo_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCAGWcN6wbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/zQWp_8NzyZA/s320/photo_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485391328738722226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;font-size:6;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;After a few days of hanging around at home and at the corner park, I finally got the guts to really go out. I wasn’t even out of the apartment yet and I was already exhausted. I just ran around my apt screaming for a good 30 minutes trying to get my kids out the door. There I go, walking down the street with baby strapped to my tummy on the Baby Bjorn, hand in hand with each kid by my side. I was enjoying the nice fresh air (or exhaust of the cars passing me) walking down the bustling street, when I heard: “Mom, mom! Are you listening? “&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;“Of course honey,” I quickly responded trying to avoid a tantrum. I had no idea what she was talking about! She forgot her shoes!! I look down and yes it was true, she indeed had forgotten her shoes! How? I have no idea!!! She had them on when we left, I’m sure of it, or can I possibly be losing my mind??? Well, I turn back and there they are in the middle of the sidewalk. Apparently they had both been screaming at me as I was dragging them down the street. I wondered if every other mom out there spaces out once in a while (or all the time) like I do. She slipped them on and off we go again. After a nice little walk we arrived at the Hallmark store. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;“Now girls, we are going to be vey polite and not run or touch everything and accidently break stuff. We are here to pick out a Father’s Day card. So lets do just that in a polite way.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;I think I was the only one listening. We walked in and by a miracle my oldest daughter took this job seriously and went straight to the cards and began her search. My almost four year old took it seriously too, but in her own overly exited way, she soon found the singing cards. She quickly began to open them very abruptly one by one and I began the job of running after her trying to get the card away from her before she ripped it. I finally raised my voice. “Tinkering ballerina!,” (the name that I will use for my middle child) I said in a very stern voice. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;“Knock it off or you wont get to buy a card for Dad.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She looked up at me with her eyes wide open. “Now, we will take turns picking out cards. First, little miss teenager (the name I will use for my oldest child) will go and then it will be your turn, so come on let’s go find her.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;There she was in the pre-teen section (may I add she is 9 years old, a month away from 10 and she can’t wait to be a teenager) &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;“Mom look this is perfect!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;As I release my attention away from tinkering ballerina for ONE second to see the card, I feel her hand slipping away from mine. I turn and she is already half way down the aisle with a singing card in her hand. I stare at her and give her the look that cowboys have in the middle of a showdown.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;“Don’t you dare!!!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She looks at me with a face that says, “or what???” I’m thinking, “she wouldn’t dare.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She smiles politely and, just like that, opens the card. I am left standing there, stunned that she would dare defy me! I proceeded to very politely walk over to her. She looks up with a smug and says “Mom if you don’t let me buy a card for Dad he will be very sad because it’s Father’s Day” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;I am amazed that she would say such a thing. I quickly thought to myself she is right, for two reasons: If I don’t buy a card today, I’m going to have to drag myself and my fabulous crew back here in a day or two and I’m just not sure they’ll let us back in! Two, if I just don’t get a card all together Dad would be sad. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;I said very politely, “you are right, he would be. So pick a card but when we get home, you’re going to be grounded!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;She stared for a second, and then said “Okay.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Just like that okay. I expected her to be crushed, scared, mortified - I don’t know, affected in someway!! I knew that when we got home I would have to come out with a punishment that would be strong enough to put some fear in to her without killing her. As we walked back home I saw a little bodega (neighborhood store). We went in and I grabbed some bubble gum. As soon as she saw what I had gotten she began to cry. She realized what her punishment was. “Mom, I’m sorry! Please let me have some gum! Mommy, I really love you, I’m sooo sorry!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;That was the song I walked home to. When we arrived I sat her on time out staring at a chair with the gum on it and just like that I had the upper hand once again! &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;She was mortified!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Father’s Day rolled around and they very proudly handed their Dad the cards they bought. Little miss teenager went first, it read: “For Father’s day I decided to sit down and make a list of all the things I love about you.” Inside the card it read: “Everything (wow that was easier than I thought!) Have a great day!” Very happy with herself she stated, “I got it in the pre-teen section!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;My husband with a smile said, “it’s totally you! Its perfect!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Now it was tinkering ballerinas turn, her card read: “Ah, the quiet wisdom of a Dad.” It had a picture of two kids strangling each other. Inside it sang: “Dad, Help he’s trying to kill me!! Nobody likes a taddle tell honey!” Laughing uncontrollably tinkering ballerina said, “ah, its perfect, it’s so me!!!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;Looking at his girls so proudly he said, “yes and I’m the luckiest Dad ever!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;"&gt;I stood there remembering the cowboy showdown, the lost shoes and me running around screaming like a chicken with its head cut off. Oops, there I go again spacing out!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-5156434919629535816?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bSRVZjkICy1HQFebiGlkCt1AtNM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bSRVZjkICy1HQFebiGlkCt1AtNM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bSRVZjkICy1HQFebiGlkCt1AtNM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bSRVZjkICy1HQFebiGlkCt1AtNM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/o435ziiIj6M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/5156434919629535816/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/cowboy-showdown_3499.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/5156434919629535816?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/5156434919629535816?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/o435ziiIj6M/cowboy-showdown_3499.html" title="The Cowboy Showdown" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCAGWcN6wbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/zQWp_8NzyZA/s72-c/photo_2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/cowboy-showdown_3499.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4ARnY6fyp7ImA9WxFbGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876338006306544579.post-4896586015539917865</id><published>2010-06-17T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T17:09:07.817-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-10T17:09:07.817-07:00</app:edited><title>Welcome to New York City!!!</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TBvxoFSbMMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Yzo_6ZRVXxk/s1600/new_york_1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484242642170228930" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TBvxoFSbMMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Yzo_6ZRVXxk/s320/new_york_1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;                           Mommy Mayhem: New York City&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;I have decided to start a blog about my adventures as a mother in NYC. Why now? Well, I recently moved to New York with my very busy husband my 3 beautiful little girls and our amazingly big dog Marley. We are living in this tiny 1 bedroom apt in Manhattan.  Yes, you read correctly “one bedroom apt”.  How did we get here you ask? The short answer is this: my husband left his 6-figure a year job and we had to move from our wonderful apt in San Francisco. We always had wanted to be on the east coast and for one reason or another we never did it. So, we thought since we have to start over anyway, why not move to where we want to be and start there. And that is how we got here. To this amazingly big city full of adventures and full of people like us that come here looking to conquer it! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Only difference is I am a stay-at-home mother of 3. I am a wife, housekeeper, dog walker and at times I am my husbands secretary and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13pt;"&gt;psychiatrist, other times I am my girls walking handkerchief, other times their best friend etc, etc. I think you get the idea. That is why I have decided to blog; to blog about all the crazy moments I go thru as a mother and as a wife here in New York City. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 13pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;I guess I better begin with the moment we first walked in to our New York City apt. There we are standing at the entrance of this tiny place after I had to carry up my tiny 3-month old daughter in one arm while holding (rather dragging) my 3 yr old daughters hand and 70lb dog’s leash in the other. I look up to see my 9 yr old daughter standing at the top of each stairwell (our place is on the 4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; floor of the building with no elevator!) screaming, “Hurry up!” Mind you, it’s past midnight, I’m sure all the neighbors heard us, heck maybe even the whole block! Behind me followed my poor husband huffing and puffing for having to haul up 3 flights of steps, 4 heavy suitcases and a huge dog crate. Finally we get to the door of the place that will be our home for the next 3 months! After a long day of traveling we can’t wait to hit the bed. My husband turns the key and we walk in and there it is: this small, er, tiny little place. I turn look at my husband there he is happy as can be, eager to show me how great of a place this is what a deal he got and how it’s so fantastic that it has a washer and dryer in the unit and a dishwasher, all of the appliances are new and he is just so proud of himself and I can’t help but feel terrible guilt for feeling sad that I am here in this tiny unit!! Beautiful but tiny! I think he noticed my face and I see his handsome face turn from a grin to a frown “its only temporary honey, while I get a job and we get on our feet.” I know this, yet I still feel unsure and sad and angry. Once he hugs me and says we are going to be okay I feel better. We manage to drag the suitcases in with the little energy we have left as soon as we close the door our 9yr old daughter is crying uncontrollably. The 3 yr old is scared crap-less. Our tiny 3 month old is just lying there happy as can be. Then again she is always happy (for the most part). We are stunned and thinking she was hurt we asked what happened she just screams out “ How could you? How could you bring me to this dump!”  As soon as we heard those words we knew this was going to be an even longer night. We allowed her to have her feelings after all we could understand it’s a huge change for them. She screamed and cried a while longer, then when she calmed down. I asked her what does a dump mean? She says, “Well it’s a place like this they can’t even afford to finish up the walls,” pointing to the exposed brick on wall. According to my husband, it’s considered a luxury feature in NYC. We all laughed and yes, maybe even cried. With that we all got ready for bed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;As I laid there in my new bed in my new apt in our new city I realized that the next 3 months were going to be filled with adventures and laughter and tears.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876338006306544579-4896586015539917865?l=mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NkPZG1dRVoWuEXdS3QfZeP_QRk8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NkPZG1dRVoWuEXdS3QfZeP_QRk8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NkPZG1dRVoWuEXdS3QfZeP_QRk8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NkPZG1dRVoWuEXdS3QfZeP_QRk8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~4/x8NcMPMoGOg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4896586015539917865/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/welcome-to-new-york-city.html#comment-form" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/4896586015539917865?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876338006306544579/posts/default/4896586015539917865?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MommyMayhemNyc/~3/x8NcMPMoGOg/welcome-to-new-york-city.html" title="Welcome to New York City!!!" /><author><name>Mommy Mayhem</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11242656461474005419</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TCCa3_5brzI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lEfbq0EJqWo/S220/photo.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q4UGe-n21zI/TBvxoFSbMMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Yzo_6ZRVXxk/s72-c/new_york_1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://mommymayhemnyc.blogspot.com/2010/06/welcome-to-new-york-city.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

