I’ll preface this post with two things, the first, I had a wonderful back and forth with a couple of moms on twitter about judging other moms. I won’t say that I’ve never done it, but I will say that I now liken it to late night shots of tequila in regard to how it will make you feel. Maybe you’ll have a surge of defiant satisfaction, “I’m not that mom. Nope, I’m {insert your carefree/organized/whatever trait of choice} but before long, later in the day or the next morning you’re likely to have a bit of a headache and a bad taste in your mouth.

I think that we all get the occasional food stain on the permission slip and mounting an awesome birthday party, pinterest worthy or otherwise, makes us feel kind of amazing. Everything in between is just kind of bunk. Live your life, try not to be a bitch (to your kids, your spouse, your neighbors, or yourself—it’s a solid thing to aim for). The second, the fever pitch of perfection and failure online, as if there is no one on social media that doesn’t have a bit of both, has really gotten to me. Which is why I may be sharing a bit more about doubt, ego, letting friends go, and pursuing what it important, regardless of what people think.

I talk about growing our own vegetables, which we do, but this is also my life:




Do you see that? That’s a pot of beans that had been on the wrong burner for 20 minutes. I didn’t just fail to cook them, I had the burner, closest to where the kids gallop through the kitchen, uncovered and basically on fire. I bought those beans, didn’t grow them, I may have forgotten to wash them. It didn’t make Facebook, but I’m pretty sure that I tweeted it with pride. I have our lives anything but pulled together, but around the smeared cooktops and uncooked beans, I try to find fun or meaning, which I then share here.

A couple of months ago I had a company reach out to me and offer credit to use at their store, Kidecals, to buy labels. I felt two things, elation that someone wrote with something that seemed appropriate for my family and shame, because I’m just not a labeler. I’m a, umm, I’m a finder, as in “Where the hell did I put the thing?” I swear, I lose things, and after purchasing school supplies I feel victory, not a duty to artfully label all the items x3. I do not judge the labelers or the decorators. I admire them/you. Honestly.

I held on to the code for a few weeks, before finally logging on and trying to make an order. They have a number of options, of course I struggled because 2 out of 3 Magee girls are currently eschewing pink as if it’s their job, while the other is 100% pink all the time.


I decided to risk it and get pink labels with Magee in black and Queensbury in blue, as close to the school color as I could. They looked cute. Keep in mind there are other fancier options for the same cost, my selection was based purely on pleasing all 3 girls, I knew that because I am not a labeler, the pure presence of labels was going to be a big deal. I waited, never mentioning them to the girls. They came.






The girls had an over-the-top, ‘mom-you-are-the-most-amazing-ever’ kind of reaction. I clapped my hands and then made a sort of sweeping, go outside kind of motion as I said, “Go ahead, label your stuff.” My gut was to let it be about them, do it crooked, double up the labels, whatever.



They were thoughtful and exuberant as they labeled their books, pens, glue sticks and pencil boxes. There were no disagreements, in fact the helping was cranked up to an intensity rarely seen these days. When they were finished they lined the supplies up on the table to admire them.

“Oooh, I love how you put that one along that line,” said Ave.

“I know, right?” nodded Briar.

Then they started to pack things in their bags.

“Mom, there are leftovers. What do you think we should do?” Finley asked very concerned.

“I don’t know, do you want to try putting labels inside the notebooks or on calculators?”

“Sure, but I also want to save some,” Finley shrugged, cocked her head and held a hand out to her side, “You just never know when you might need a label.”

Exactly, kid.

The moral: if you are a labeler, consider Kidecals. If you are non-labeler, try Kidecals, they are a nice company with products that may make your life a little more sparkly as you try to manage the chaos.

Thanks, Kidecals, I never thought I’d do something like this. It was fun and helpful!