A Letter To My Daughter

SuperheroYou are beautiful. Not just on the outside, but on all your sides. And there will be a lot of people who say you aren’t. That’s because they feel bad about themselves. Or maybe because their mom didn’t tell them they were beautiful. I don’t know. But I know that what they say doesn’t change the truth. And that is that you’re fearfully and wonderfully made. That God took great delight in fashioning you, and that you are utter perfection, to him and to me.

You don’t have to fit into a box. You don’t have to be one thing. Be a superhero. And be a princess.

You were made to be great. You’ve been given dreams and talents so that you’ll follow them, use them. Your gifts are yours alone, and if you don’t use them, no one else in the world can, not quite like you. So make a splash with them. Share them. Spread them all over like glitter that the world will never be able to wash off (you know how glitter is.)

Friends are wonderful gifts. Some of your friends will last all of your life, and some of them for only a short time. That’s okay. It’s part of life. It’s part of growing. Losing friends is hard, especially to those Jr High and High School type situations. The ones where they say mean things and make you feel like you fail at life all because they won’t be your friend anymore. But you’ll make new friends. Better friends.

You’ll worry about boys for the rest of your life. So start as late as you can. Play with dolls. Play with stuffed animals. Play in the dirt with your brothers. Play fetch with your dog. Wear striped leggings and a polka dot dress because you want to, and don’t worry about what anyone thinks.

Speaking of boys, the boys in high school aren’t worth your time. Trust me on this. I know you’re going to waste time on them anyway, but I consider it my duty to tell you: they aren’t done baking yet. They’re going to be frogs for a few more years, no matter how many times you kiss them. My advice is to just hold off on kissing them. Make them come to you a prince already. Because heaven knows, you’re a princess.

Confidence is beautiful, don’t let insecure people tell you differently. Believe in yourself. And when you can’t, know that me, and your dad, and your brothers, and uncle and grandparents, will be behind you believing in you for you.

Stand firm in your convictions. Your friends might make fun of you, but that’s okay. If you know who you are, and what you want. Don’t let other people change you into the version of you they’re most comfortable with. Be the you that you want to be, and blaze the trail down your own path.

Tell me everything. I promise not to get mad. Well, I promise to keep my blow-up short and sweet, and then have a meaningful conversation with you. But I’d rather know what you’re doing, than be kept in the dark. I’d rather be able to support you, than let you go through something alone. Even if I don’t agree with your choices. Because no matter what, I’m on your side.

Toilet papering houses is great. Filling a boy’s car with balloons and saran wrapping it shut is better. (because no matter what I say, you’ll like those dumb high school boys. So you might as well torment them a little. I’ll probably drive the getaway car. My mom did it for me.) Learn to laugh at yourself. Spin around in open fields of grass. Look at the stars. Read books under the covers with a flashlight.

Be fierce. Be independent. Be whatever you want to be. As someone once said: Don’t be like the rest of them, darling.

And know that when I look at you, I’ll always see the baby you were. The girl you are. The woman you’ll be. And that I love you.

So not a nurse


Okay so here’s where I tell you one of the many ways in which I shall not win mother or wife of the year. I am a terrible nurse-maid. I don’t like to be around sick people, they’re gross and hot and smelly and I just would rather send them to their rooms and let them fend for themselves. You can see how this is not going to work well with my 4 year old and 2 year old. I can deal with it most illnesses, but frankly I am terrified of vomit. We’re talking live in fear. I mean if a member of my family mentions having an upset stomach, I get those uncomfortable butterflies – okay they feel more like pelicans, but you get my drift.

Case in point….the other night…okay wait, let me set this up better. First and foremost, I was on a serious deadline, I was crazy tired and super stressed….like, holy-crap-I-have-to-write-10,000words-in-2-days-stressed. Okay so that was me, like a ball of charming nerves, as you can imagine and The Professor tells me that his stomach is upset. I do what I can to help – give him cold, wet rags for his head and neck like my mom always did. It didn’t help.

100_2430After he vomited the first time, I explained that he was going to need to relocate himself to the couch downstairs. Now before you think I’m completely heartless, let me explain. I figured if he had a stomach bug, I needed to get him away from me so that I wouldn’t catch it in case the kids got sick too. Yes, I realize that at that point I would have already been exposed, still I was quite serious. So after vomit #2, I sent him on his way. Then I Lysoled the hell out of my bedroom & bathroom. He was sad, rightly so. I mean who wants to be banished when they feel like crap? No, we all want someone to take care of us. But nope, I sent him downstairs. I did make his bed for him and sat with him for a little while.

And I told him that if he didn’t vomit again for 2 more hours he could come back upstairs to our bed because then we would know it was just food poisoning. He never came upstairs because he said he was too weak. In any case it was just food poisoning, but it was a hellish night for both of us. I was up like every hour checking on the girls with every little noise to make sure they weren’t aspirating in their sleep.

So there it is. I don’t do well with the sick stuff. I realize that one of these days my family is going to get a stomach bug and I shall have to face my fears. It’s really a miracle it hasn’t happened yet. And I even deserve it because I was a total puker growing up. But I really fear that day and hope it’s a long, long way away. How about y’all, how do you do taking care of sick family members?

I’m Robyn DeHart, AKA Basket-Case Mama, but not because I’m crazy (though really, what mom isn’t?) but because I have a slight obsession with baskets, well containers really. I’m a bit of an organization nut and I love to containerize stuff. And yes, I’m authorized to use words like that because I am also a writer. But back to the kids, so I’m mom to two ridiculously beautiful little girls and I can say that without bragging because I didn’t actually make them. Last year my husband, The Professor, and I adopted said little lovelies from the foster-care system here in Texas and now we’re a big happy forever family. Busybee is three and so full of joy it just oozes from her. Babybee is a walking-talking toddler who has a heck of a temper but is so cute, it almost keeps her out of trouble. Though neither of my girls are newborns, I’m fairly new to motherhood compared to the other peanut butter moms, but we’ve settled in as a family as if we’ve always been together. When I’m not trying to keep up with my two bundles of energy, you can usually find me on my laptop on Pinterest, no, that’s not right, um…you can find me writing, yes, that’s it, writing my latest historical romance. www.robyndehart.com

One of THOSE Moms

I am not one of those moms. At least, I don’t think so. I know a few of us have written about this before, but it’s come up again for me, so I’m revisiting.

My daughter’s day school is in a very affluent neighborhood. A lot of the parents are very, very wealthy. They send their kids to this school until the children are three and can enter the more prestigious private pre-schools in the area. These require interviews and teacher recommendations, etc. You get the idea.

We are not rich. We’re not poor. We do okay. But we’re not rich. Baby Galen is going to public school—a good public school, but a public school. She goes to the day school not because my nanny needs off a couple days a week or so that I can work with my personal trainer (don’t have either one!) but so I can write books and blogs and all that.

Friends--NOT the friend in question

Friends–NOT the friend in question

I grew up with friends who were both wealthy and closer to the other extreme. I’m not impressed by wealth, and these moms are cordial to me and we do the chitchat thing at pick-up and drop-off. But lately my daughter has become friends with the daughter of a mom from the wealthy clique. Every day she begs me to invite this little girl over. These kids are barely three. They don’t go to play dates without parents yet, and I don’t really know this mom. But Baby Galen talks about this little girl all the time. They play “princesses” and “run-away-from-the-bad-guy” together.

Another friend--NOT the new one, though

Another friend–NOT the new one, though

What should I do? Ask the mom if she wants to do a play date? Keep putting Baby Galen off? She has plenty of other friends, whose moms are my friends or whose moms have more in common with me. Help! Why do I feel like I’m in high school and have to ask some mom to the Prom?

The Comeback Kid: Guest Christy Gissendaner

A-Hot-Mess-mockup3 Errr…perhaps the title should be The Comeback with Kids!

Back in 2006, after a couple years of writing, I met (and married) my first ever boyfriend. Within a few short months, I was pregnant with baby #1. By the time 2008 came to an end, I was the proud mama of three bouncing baby boys. And before you ask, yes I do know what causes back-to-back pregnancies. Raise your hand if you’re a mother of more than one child and complete strangers ask if you “know what causes that”.  Why yes, I do, Strange Person. Apparently I know all TOO well what causes “that”.

Unfortunately I had to put away my keyboard to raise my rapidly expanding family.  No easy task when you work eight to five, trust me! In May of last year, I decided it was time. All my boys were potty-trained, the oldest was in pre-k, and I was ready to make my foray back into the world of romance. I dusted off and subbed a couple of manuscripts I’d stashed in my WIP folder. Then I sat down and furiously pounded out some new works. I write under two pen names, so I took turns with each.  By then end of 2012, I’d acquired seven contracts and had already released three works. I patted myself on the back for a job well done and kept plugging away at my keyboard.

Writing is the easy part. Even with three boys underfoot, somehow I managed to keep them entertained (i.e. distracted) as I worked. But as book after book came out, the hard part reared its ugly head. The most dreaded of all words…promotion! So in between cooking, cleaning, and writing I also had to find the time to visit blogs, arrange book tours, and hassle with social media. I tell you, it’s amazing how much the publishing world changed since 2006! Back then, Facebook was just gaining a foothold and Twitter wasn’t yet a household name…that I know of, at least. So here I was doing my dangest to keep up with it all. It was an everyday struggle. Finally something just had to give…

Since I wasn’t giving up writing and I most definitely wasn’t giving up my kids, I had to let my online presence slip. I console myself with the knowledge one day I’ll be uber-famous and can hire my very own publicity person. I mean, I’m good but I’m not that good. I’m not Superwoman and I do have to sleep at some point. So for me it was a no brainer. If I want to write, then write. So that’s what I’m doing…even if I do have Spongebob playing on the tv, stray toys beneath my feet, and crumb trails across my desk.

ChristyChristy Gissendaner is a romantic comedy author for Entangled and Liquid Silver Books. She believes laughter and love should go hand in hand.
She lives in Alabama with her husband and three sons and is always hard at work on her next novel, but in her spare time she loves blackjack, karaoke, and anything resembling a vacation!

Christy also writes historical romance as Robin Danner. Check her out at http://christygissendaner.webs.com and http://robindanner.webs.com.


Introducing, the amazing LBD …. you’re welcome

pfi_24d1aff48a4473f479d4d98d96b9b537I’ve been missing from the blog lately … And, to be honest, from my life. I have a book due … Well, it was due yesterday, which was when I was writing this blog. So I there I was, frantically trying to finish the book when the alarm popped up that I was supposed to blog today. Yep. I panicked.

I have nothing to blog about. And, to be honest, deadline isn’t a great time to be blogging. Nothing makes you feel less successful as a wife and mother than when you’re working ten hour days and are completely distracted. Weeks like this, it’s all I can do not to collapse in a ball of panic and fear.

I suspect that Robyn could back me up on this, but she’s on deadline, too, so I’m guessing she doesn’t read this.

Since I’m lacking in all forms of parental wisdom, I will give you something else. Something better. I’m going to introduce you to the best web based show around, The Lizzie Bennett Diaries. It’s a vlog retelling of Pride and Prejudice. If you watch TheLBD already, you know how great it is. It’s funny and sexy and emotionally complex. And it’s currently my favorite rendition of P&P. Yeah, you heard me. I like this more than both movie versions. (And I didn’t even get struck by lightening when I wrote that.)

In short, if you’re a fan of Austen at all, then you need to be watching this. It’s the most fun you’ll have without cracking open a book.

Do you watch The LBD already? If not, do you watch any other web shows?

I’ll give away a copy of The Farm–my new YA–to one person who comments.

Emily McKayEmily McKay loves to cook, bake and play with her kids. When she’s not on deadline, she also gardens, composts, follows celebrity gossip, and practices yoga. When she is on deadline, she … well, she panics, and does all of those things with more nervous energy. She lives in central Texas with her husband, two kids, two cat, two dogs and four chickens.

This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You

Did you ever hear that when you were growing up? Ever find yourself saying—or maybe just thinking—that very phrase yourself?

I wasn’t a bad kid, not by any means. I was really pretty darn good, aside from a little of the normal experimentation. I had a steady boyfriend my last two years of high school, and I’m pretty sure that prevented me from some, well, stuff that may otherwise have happened. But I digress.

I wasn’t a bad kid, but I do have this, well, let’s call it a character trait. (Okay, okay, some would call it a flaw, but I’m sticking with trait.)  I hate being told what to do. I mean, I really, really hate being told what to do. In fact, there’s just about no quicker way to get me to NOT do something, than to tell me I have to do it. This..trait…definitely created some challenges for my parents, who, like all parents, had certain requests of me (chores…curfew…you know the drill). When I failed to live up to their requests, they’d end up blowing up at me, I’d get punished and cry, and they’d say those ridiculous little words: Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you. And I’d be thinking…”excuse me? Who’s the one getting punished here? Do you think I’m an idiot, or something?”

Now the roles are reversed. I’m the mom with two kids of my own. And while my daughter is marvelously open to suggestion, as I like to call it, little boy is, well, he’s a lot like me. He’s not real fond of being told what to do. You can actually see the resistance move into his eyes: they narrow and get kinda hard, and if you’re watching closely enough, his chin comes up.

Which brings me to tonight. Here I was all set to whip together a blog I’d been thinking about for a few days, about that inevitable day when bandaids are no longer enough, when I walk into the bathroom and discover that my son had dumped not only an entire bottle of Bath and Body Works Sensual Amber into his bath, but squeezed an entire tube of body scrub in, as well. He was all happy, smiling and splashing around, making creamy, fabulous-smelling potions, but this horrible monster seized control of me as I realized that he’d done it again, what we’d told him countless times not to do: blown through my bath products. And I just kinda lost it.  I started in on him, demanding to know why he would do that when he knew he wasn’t supposed to, then taking things one step further by telling him that this was it, the last straw, and he was never allowed to bathe in my tub (an awesome big garden tub) again. AND not only that, but he was not to leave his bed and wander downstairs tonight, because he’d made a very bad choice, and as a consequence, he wasn’t going to be allowed to climb in bed with us.

So yeah. I got the reaction I wanted. Tears, crying, even some shaking, as he stared up at me with his big blue eyes and rapidly red-blotching face, sobbing (gut-wrenchingly, I might add) that he was sorry and he’d never do it again, and begging me to please, please not forbid him to bathe in my tub, and to please, please not make him stay upstairs all night long. And yeah, all those sharp, fierce mommy instincts sliced away at my anger, and as I stood there furious, I suddenly found myself wanting to swoop him into my arms and comfort him. Because it hurts. It hurts so bad to see your child in such distress, even if you know—know—they need to feel the sting of that pain, the sting of that consequence, in order to (hopefully) learn and make a better choice next time. So I resisted. I didn’t give him the comfort he, in that moment, wanted (and that I wanted so badly to give to him). I didn’t console him, even though inside I was shaking. He’s got to learn. I know that.

But, omigod, my Dad was so right.

Being the parent is hard. And yeah, sometimes it hurts me way more than it hurts my little guy 😦

Confessions Of A Champion List Maker: Guest Marybeth Whalen

Today we’re proud to welcome wife, mom, novelist and a lot of other things, Marybeth Whalen!


As a novelist and mother of six, I often hear the question, “How do you do it?” I can honestly say that– most days– I don’t have a good answer for that. Every day is different and every day is a crapshoot as to what I’m able to get done. Some days I have to focus more on my family and some days I have to focus more on my writing. And somewhere in all of it, a balance is struck.

One way I keep track of all I have to do is by keeping meticulous lists. I have learned that if I don’t write it down, it’s probably not going to happen. While I was always a pretty conscientious student and kept track of my homework and the like, I never kept lists like I have learned to with a family. I thought today I’d share with you the lists that have helped my life go just a little easier.


The menu list: This is a cheapie write on/wipe off board that hangs on the side of my fridge. About once every week to ten days, I sit down in my kitchen (near the fridge and pantry so I can check ingredients and in close proximity to my shelf of favorite cookbooks) and make out my menu for anywhere from 5 to 7 meals. I write down what ingredients I will need for each meal and– ideally– go shopping shortly afterwards while everything is fresh in my mind. It’s a wonderful feeling to start a Monday with a stocked pantry/fridge and a list of what we’re eating for the whole week, knowing there will be no frantic “It’s 5:00 do you know what your family is eating?” moments. It’s well worth the 1-2 hours this takes me to do. Planning menus also saves money. I’ve learned to write in a few “GYO” (Get Your Own) and “Planned Overs” nights to use up the leftovers and stretch my week of meals even longer. Whoot! (It’s the little things in life, right?)

The grocery list: This is a magnetic pad that hangs right next to the menu board on my fridge. If I use up something, it goes on the list. When I’m planning meals, needed ingredients go on the list. If the kids need school supplies, they go on the list too (because I can usually pick up most items at the grocery store). I’ve also worked hard to train all of my children to add anything they use onto the list as well and to include special items they might need for school projects or any cooking they want to do. Brownie mix anyone? This habit is something that they actually do because it benefits them. If they want kosher dill pickles for their sandwiches or eggs so they can bake those brownies, they know that if it’s not on the list, it won’t happen.

The project list: This is a spiral bound 5X7 notebook that contains my life. I used to only keep a daily to-do list (more on that in a minute) but I found that when I had bigger things that needed to be addressed in the future, I had nowhere to record those. So I started jotting things down in a project notebook… and more things started getting done. I hardly ever forgot things and found that this pretty rudimentary piece of equipment was actually invaluable. Now this notebook holds notes about things the kids need for school (field trip money due next week– exact change required!), deadlines for my writing (apply to that literary festival– due date is this Friday!), and reminders to take care of issues with She Reads, my women’s fiction website (follow up on those guest post requests!). If something is a ways away from needing to be done, I simply turn a few pages ahead, knowing that future me will be glad for the reminder. And present me is just glad to not have to deal with it now.

The daily list: This list holds what I consider my assignments for the day. I treat this list as if my boss wrote it and expects it to all get done by the time I go to bed. Though I don’t really have a boss per se, I do have people who expect things from me. Because I want to be someone who does what she says, that list is key. It helps me stay accountable to the promises I have made– to my family, my friends, and the people I do business with. If it makes it onto the daily list, it’s likely going to get done. Through trial and error, I’ve learned how long the list can realistically be without being overly ambitious and overwhelming myself in the process. And so I know if there are much more than a certain number of lines filled I’m just being ridiculous– it’s time to start a page for tomorrow.

The random list
: And then there are the lists for all the other stuff of life. The list of books I want to read. The list of songs I need to put on my iPod. The list of gift ideas for my kids. The list of titles for books, character names, and story ideas. For those I keep small pads of paper in my car, my nightstand drawer, etc. I’ve learned that paper should always be close at hand.

A long time ago, a wise woman taught me “Think once and write it down.” That concept has freed me in many ways. Once I write it down, it creates more space for the many other things fighting for space! Brain space is at a premium for me, and I suspect I’m not alone. If you need to create more brain space, then maybe you’d like to become a champion list maker too!
guest book

Marybeth Whalen has been married for 21 years to Curt and they are the parents of six children ranging in age from 20 to 7. She writes novels in her “spare” time and runs a site called She Reads http://www.shereads.org. She also maintains a personal blog at http://www.marybethwhalen.com. You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest and Twitter too!

In Which I Blog About Romance Again

Well, I’m a romance writer and…come on, it’s Valentine’s Day.

Edit: I wanted to add this upfront, I understand that giving marriage advice is dicey. There is not a one size fits all solution to marriage. I’m not in anyone’s marriage but mine. If you feel like some of this post rings true for you, then that’s fantastic. If not, then it isn’t pointing a finger at you, or putting you down in any way. I felt like that was important to add!

So, I was perusing the webs, as one is wont to do, and I came across a poem, (I was going to link you, honestly, but I can’t find it again. ARGH) spoofing the non-children’s book Go the F*&^% to Sleep, and it’s called, Let Me Go the F&^*& to Sleep. It’s about wife who’s tired and wants her husband to stop touching her and let her to the eff to sleep.

It was funny, and I’m not going to be one of those people who can’t appreciate the funny of it just because I disagree with…most of it. Because humor is humor, and we naturally want to go BIG with humor, because that’s what makes it funny.

So, I’m not picking on the woman who wrote this. BUT…it got me thinking.

It’s really easy to make those kinds of jokes. It’s in so many sitcoms. A woman with a headache is basically as cliche and well worn as a cop with a donut. The husband always wants sex, the wife has a headache. (By the way, orgasms have been known to take headaches away so…) The rejection of the husband, the annoyance of the wife at his advances, is played for laughs, and no feelings are hurt.

This is actually something that bothers me. A lot. Because, darn it, you guys, if my husband acted like he just wasn’t that into me it would not be something I could brush off. If every time I touched him he reacted in annoyance, or like I was asking too much of him, it would affect me deeply.

Why doesn’t my husband find me attractive? Why doesn’t he want me? What did I do?

Sex in our society is such a funny thing. It’s played for laughs and to make people cringe. It offends, it shocks, it titillates. Sex as an act of love isn’t shown very often. Romance novels are the medium that show it most, I think, and they’re derided and put on the same level as porn which, I don’t know about you, but last time I checked was not about deep emotional connections.

We’ve removed sex from what it is in popular culture. An act of bonding, an act of love (and fun, heck yeah, but it’s these deep things too!).

So when we smack our husband’s hand away, we’re rejecting sex…but what if we’re rejecting a showing of love? Or his reaching out and seeking to bond? What if he feels like we’re rejecting HIM? Again, if I came onto him and he pushed me away, I would be peeved. I would feel rejected, I WOULD feel like my love was being rejected.

And ladies, this is obviously a blog whose primary audience is women, so we’re in the hot seat in this post, but this does go for men who do this to their wives as well. Marriage is a two way street, and one person can’t do all the work. I’m not trying to be accusatory at all, and clearly we all have different situations and different marriages. Some situations are much more complicated than this and there are other hurts that are preventing intimacy, and I do understand that. To those people, this clearly isn’t for you.

But I am guilty of the the occasional thoughtless rejection. A resentful eye roll when he tries to pull me to him and kiss me in the middle of the day cuz I AM BUSY AND STUFF. And I love my husband. I am guilty of feeling like ‘why are you asking this of me at the end of a long day?’ Well, why am I denying him closeness at the end of his long day? Why am I copping attitude when he’s showing me love in his way? Do I only want his demonstrations of love on my terms and when I’m ready to accept them? That’s not fair at all.

It’s easy to say that this isn’t important, or until we work out A and B, sex doesn’t need to be a priority. But I think it should be. Because it’s something you share as a husband and wife that you don’t share with anyone else. It’s one of the unique and beautiful things in your relationship and that nobody else has with you or with him.

Just like we need to feel wanted and attractive, desire and loved, our husbands need to feel that too.

That funny poem got me pondering this whole thing from a different angle. Strange how that works.

Happy Valentines Day! And I hope you feel the love. 😉

This Is Such a Cute Valentine’s Day Video!

Wasn’t that adorable? Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!! I like to make heart-shaped pizzas and put out a bunch of different toppings for the family on Valentine’s Day. What does your family do? Or do you keep it a couples’ holiday? Share with us!!!

I’m giving away a Coach bag or a Kindle Fire–winner’s choice–on my website, along with two $50 gift cards, and 100 swag packs. It’s THE EARL IS MINE pre-order contest, and you don’t need to pre-order the book to enter!  

Kieran Kramer, Merry Mama

Hi, I’m Kieran. My family loves music and anything that makes us laugh out loud. Along with Chuck, my husband of 23 years, I try to teach our kids that we have to actively choose happiness–and if I accomplish nothing else as a mom but pass that one lesson along to them, then I think I’ve done my job.

My oldest guy, Dragon, was diagnosed in kindergarten with Asperger’s syndrome, and now he’s a junior in college; his sister Indie Girl, who’s younger by 16 months, is a college sophomore; and my youngest, Nighthawk, is in ninth grade. For our family, it’s about managing your weaknesses and wringing everything you can get out of your strengths. And along the way, finding joy.


Let’s get crafty!

IMG_1250So here we are upon another holiday and if your kiddos are in school or some daycare or Mother’s Day Out program, it’s time for Valentine’s Day parties. Last year when I did this, I ended up buying 2 boxes for each girl even though there are only 10 kids (total) in their classes. The girls wanted the princess and fairy ones, but I didn’t feel right about giving those to the boys in their classes so we got boy stuff to hand out as well. And many of the Valentine’s come with temporary tattoos – I’m not sure how y’all feel about this, but I’d rather not introduce my children to tattoos just yet.



Needless to say, this year I decided we’d make our own and hand those out. The girls would get to participate and it would mean more than me sitting down one night and addressing all of them for their friends. This way they’d know what they were giving away and they could say they helped to make it. And I thought it would be a fun project for us and for reasons I can’t explain I thought it would be cheaper.

IMG_1253First it was not cheaper. BUT I will say that all of the supplies I bought can be used/eaten at at later date so nothing will go wasted. And we did have a great time. They loved it. I don’t know if those of you with small children have played with the foam stickers, but my girls love them. Even Babybee is quite adept at peeling off the back paper and sticking them on whatever they’re decorating. Busybee even got to write her own name on each of her Valentine, she was quite proud of herself for that.

IMG_1254One of the things I like most about doing crafts with my girls is to see their personalities come out. Babybee is very methodical and precise (pretty amazing for a 2.5 yr old) and Busybee likes to over-do, so her stuff always comes out very decorated. It’s great to see how they create and use their imaginations.


I found the recipe for the “trail” mix on Pinterest, so I can’t take credit for it, but I used Cheerios, Goldfish Pretzels, Yogurt-covered raisins, Valentine M&M’s and Chocolate Teddy Grahams. I think they came out cute and I hope their classmates enjoy them.

So do y’all craft with your kiddos? Do they enjoy doing arts & crafts?