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My husband doesn't get many days off, so on the rare occasion we're hanging out at home all day together it sort of reminds me of when I was in sales and the district manager would pop into town and see what I'd been up to.

Which, on a good day, was blowing off my clients and taking five hour lunches at Lion's Choice with my co-workers. And, on a bad day, was blowing off my clients and sleeping off the night before in the back seat of my Mitsubishi Mirage in a mall parking lot.

I didn't really like sales all that much.

Let me be clear – for the most part Nick is so exhausted on his days off that he mostly just lays on the couch and mumbles incoherently every once in a while for some water. But being the praise-crazed (and starved) person I am, I find myself narrating my every move, giving him the “look what an awesome stay-at-home Mom I am” play-by-play of our daily routine.

Every toddler has the touch of the OCD. One minute, your child is the sweetest little ray of sunshine, and the next, she busts out with a Courtney Love on Mountain Dew level meltdown because you poured milk in her Dora cup instead of her Elmo one.

There are some kids who easily adapt and simply roll with the punches. Forgot the pink sippy cup? Well, that’s alright, mom – the green one is just spiffy! These toddlers are a rare breed and often cause a mom to stare at them with a mix of awe and wonder usually reserved for a free Hermes bag stuffed with Skinnygirl and Dove bars.

However, the breed of toddler most often observed in nature is that which mysteriously sprout talons and fangs if you put too much toothpaste on their brush.

My three-year-old falls in the latter.

When it comes to education, I have a lot of – and some would say too many – opinions.

I don’t believe in homework – at least not the ridiculous amount that so many elementary-age children are given every night, often to the detriment of quality family time, extracurricular activities, and some nights even sleep.  

I’m not a fan of the current trend towards full-day kindergarten, and the belief that we have to force our children to be “smarter faster” if they’re ever going to succeed in the adult world.

I often wonder if all the rules and schedules and bells and detentions in our schools are really preparing our kids for their future – or just teaching them to fall in line and do as their told and never truly learn to think for themselves.

Most importantly, I believe that our children need more time to play, and that the current trend to limit recess time to accommodate extra academics is both misguided and irresponsible.

And while I know I’m in the minority when it comes to many of my opinions, it turns out that even the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) agrees with me on that last one.

A trip to the movies is supposed to be a fun form of family entertainment, but finding a film that appeals to children and adults alike – and contains subject matter that is suitable for all ages – can be quite the challenge for today’s parents.

Throw in substandard sequels (I’m looking at you Ice Age 4) and Hollywood’s escalating penchant for using its family films as mere marketing vehicles (just see last year’s partnership between The Lorax and a certain Mazda SUV), and it’s difficult to know what kind of movies are right for family audiences.  

What Are We Supposed to Watch?

Don’t get me wrong – there’s a time and a place for those Hollywood films. Even shiny 3-D blockbusters with plots that don’t make sense (Cars 2 anyone?), outdated gender stereotypes (every Disney movie ever made), and massive marketing campaigns (think Happy Meal toys) can be good for a few laughs. I’m not ashamed to admit that Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs is probably one of my favorite movies ever made.  

Stop judging. It’s that damn weasel, Buck. He gets me every time.

As a mom, though, I find myself wanting to also introduce my kids to films that, well, offer a bit more.

Even before I became a stay-at-home Mom I wasn't what anyone would consider a snappy dresser. Blame it on my Midwestern small town roots – prior to K-Mart coming to town the only place we had to buy clothes was the gas station.

That, and the fact that it took three nights of babysitting to buy a new pair of jeans (is anyone else disturbed at the inflation rates of babysitters in the last 15 years?) put me well on the path of choosing sweats over stilettos.

However, when I worked in an office, my ratio of clothes you can't sleep in vs. clothes that double as pajamas was about 5:1.

But slowly, over the course of the past three years of hanging with my kids, the tides have turned. Some people might call the way I dress “slovenly”, or “disgusting to look at,” however, every piece of clothing I wear comes with thought and purpose.

I like to call it the uniform.

As you can see, even famous moms (like Katie Holmes, above right) take cover in "the uniform," and on the streets of New York, no less.

Every month, an invitation to our elementary school’s upcoming PTA meeting arrives in my inbox. It’s a nice touch, this clever use of modern technology to gently remind the slacker moms and dads among us of our parental obligations to sell wrapping paper and plan pancake breakfasts.

But every month, I still promptly hit the delete button.

For baseball diehards, it’s a long, dark, cold winter without the sun on your face, a St. Louis dog in hand and Mike Shannon on the radio. The 2012 baseball season is a distant memory, and spring training is still seven ice-covered weeks away.

However, Jackie and Me, a new production from Metro Theatre Company and Edison Theatre is keeping baseball in play this January and bringing kids face to face with the man who broke down barriers in stadiums across the U.S.

Through the power of a magical baseball card, Joey Stoshack, a young baseball fan, and the Metro Theater Company audience are transported back to 1947 on the day Jackie Robinson becomes the first black man to play for the major leagues.

When my first child turned out to be a girl, I was ecstatic. And while you might say that the whole “becoming a mother and falling head-over-heels in love with my daughter” was the cause of my ecstasy, I’m embarrassed to say that there was another factor involved:
 
The pretty pink outfits that you can only buy for little girls.    
 

At an event the other day, my friend – a new mom with a six-month-old – mentioned an upsetting trend at her office.

I've always wondered what kind of jerk parent would take their sick kids to a public place. Specifically a public place where there would be a bunch of other kids.

I tirelessly work day in and day out sanitizing shopping carts, administering vitamins and sacrificing virgin chickens to the gods of children's wellness all to drop them off at pre-school to see some kid with the creature from the green lagoon hanging out of his nose.

I mean, how selfish! Kids spread viruses faster than Lindsay Lohan at a... well... anything – and dropping a sick kid in the middle of a bunch of healthy ones just so you can have a little break just shows a total lack of respect for anyone and everything. Reckless.

Then there was last week.

The three weeks after Christmas are a sad, sad time for a TV fan. On the plus side, we’re no longer exposed to that creepy Folgers commercial where the brother and sister practically make out at their Christmas reunion. But on the downside, we’re limited to constant reruns and bowl games named after snack foods.

Cadan Christopher Frericks would have celebrated his fourth birthday Thanksgiving weekend. But on December 6, 2008, his mom and dad held him for the first and last time. He was only twelve days old when he died of a birth defect called congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH).
 

2012 has been a year of firsts for me. My first time hiking a trail – which I learned the hard way should not be done in flip-flops and a sundress. My first time camping – in a tent, at a campground so remote I didn’t even have cell service. Even my first time staying at a place with a word like “lodge” in the title.   
 

The other day I headed off to the craft store to finish off my Christmas gift list. My godson, a four-year-old budding Van Gogh, wanted some new art projects to work on.

When I entered, I was engulfed in a display of make-your-own headbands and jewelry, manicure sets and scrapbooks, vajazzlers and macramé thong kits. But what I didn’t see were kits ideal for those with XY chromosomes.

Sure, there were some awesome gender-neutral Crayola kits as well as a paint-your-own coffee mug, but I thought that was a little insensitive for a preschooler trying to kick his caffeine addiction.

Finally, behind a glitter-bomb-your-own-purse set, I uncovered a lowly wooden car kit – the only blue box in a sea of pink and purple.

I’m not the only one who has difficulty finding a specific gift for a child whose interests don’t fall into a stereotypical gender mold.

As a busy mom with a full-time job, I want to be able to access everything on my smartphone and other digital devices.

(It amazes me that I can't get grocery coupons for local chains delivered to my cell, like I can for Target, because the last thing you'll find me doing on a Sunday afternoon is clipping coupons. But I digress.)

So I was really excited this morning to find news of the new Saint Louis Science Center app in my inbox (on my phone, of course). The app was released today, and by 8 a.m. I had installed it on my iPhone via the app store (there's also a version for Andriod). Once I had explored the app, I learned It's easy to use, well organized, and that I can even follow the SLSC Twitter feed right from the app! (That last part may not appeal to everyone, but I think Mr. T. Rex's tweets are quite entertaining.)

There’s something about seeing the father of your children perched precariously atop an unstable ladder, steel blade rake in his outstretched arm as he swats at the air, still several feet away from a dangling strand of Christmas lights that you guilted him into hanging onto a 30-foot pine tree, that makes you truly appreciate the raw power you harness within your female body parts.

It’s almost scary.