The most interesting bit of data was this little quote:

14% of all American mothers with at least one child in their household blog about parenting or turn to blogs for advice, according to a recent study by Scarborough Research. About 3.9 million moms in the United States identify as bloggers, but just 500 of them are considered to be influential among other mothers.

And then the infographic laid out the 10 most influential mommy bloggers today, which I thought was pretty interesting. They are in order:

1. Rebecca Woolf, Girls Gone Child
2. Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess (FUNNIEST BLOGGER IN THE ENTIRE INTERNETS)
3. Catherine Conners, Her Bad Mother
4. Heather B. Armstrong, Dooce (Getting fired because of your blog is now commonly referred to as getting “dooced” becauce of her)
5. Alice Bradley, Finslippy
6. Katherine Stone, Post Partum Progress
7. Monica Bielanko, The Girl Who
8. Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman (Thank you Lord for bringing her cinnamon roll recipe to the world)
9. Amy Corbett Storch, Amalah
10. Kate Inglis, Sweet Salty

"And that's why you should learn to pick your battles"

Jenny Lawson’s “Metal Chicken” story reminds me that it’s okay to cuss and be silly. Ree Drummond’s restaurant-style salsa recipe reminds me to take pictures of every single step of everything. Heather Armstrong reminds me to be open, honest and transparent.

Are you already reading any of these? If so, how did you discover them? Do you remember the first thing you read of theirs?

Who are you reading that isn’t a big bloggy star?

Um… wait. What’s a Bob Evans? Also, I think I’m going to start a diet.

Looks good so far. I'm guessing family restaurant, which would work out for us since we have the toddler with us.

So this is the same day I started using the MyFitnessPal app on my iPhone at the suggestion of several friends on Facebook, and it’s the same day that I accidentally ate a 733 calorie sandwich at Schlotski’s, which did not leave a lot of room for dinner.

Luckily there was a whole section of the menu devoted to entrees under 450 calories. I was bold and chose the flounder with carrots and broccoli.

At first glance the menu reminded me of a cross between a nice Denny’s and Chili’s with tons of variety. This seems to be a very well run chain style family restaurant. I just liked that the menu had pictures and the the kids’ menu had options.

Steve has the metabolism of a racehorse, so he ordered that smoke house burger in bottom left of the not-so-light, no-calories-mentioned-here part of the menu

The restaurant was full of families with kids and servers in training.

For the grand opening there were two dogs. One named Biscuit, which Charlie loved because her favorite books are about a dog named Biscuit…

And the other named Gravy

Most importantly, though, the food was really good.

Charlie loved her mac 'n cheese. I really don't know why they bothered to bring a fork.

Steve was probably telling Charlie some story about the burger being neutral territory and how all the fries got along with one another because the tomatoes and the lettuce appreciate each others unique qualities

Evan the low calorie Flounder with healthy veggies was delicious. I have to admit I cleaned my plate.

Thank you Bob Evans for inviting us to your new restaurant.

Bob Evans would also like to give one of my readers a $25 gift card. To enter to win just leave a comment below telling me your favorite Northwest Arkansas family activity. I’ll draw a winner using Random.org this Friday May 11th. For extra entries email this post and cc me stephanie (at) mac (dot) com and/or share it on Twitter and Facebook (just be sure to let me know you did it). You’ll get entries for each person you email and each time you share it.

Good luck!

So when I glanced at the calendar for this weekend and realized there wasn’t anything on it, I decided why not try some structured potty training? We’ve had a potty seat for a while, and have made some half-hearted attempts, but nothing formal. However, two of Charlie’s best friends are now officially potty users and she is potty curious. Let’s strike crazy hard while that iron is luke warm.

Instead of reading any long, wordy books I found this chart on Pinteret (click the image to go to the site where you can get a printable blue or pink chart of your very own).

Fill in the reward info in the top so all adults involved are consistent. For example: Pee Pee = 2 M&Ms, Poo Poo = 5 M&Ms

I knew Charlie wouldn’t be an easy mark, which meant a simple chart and some M&Ms wouldn’t cut it, so off I went to Target because this was going to be a party.

We started talking up the potty training shenanigans with her a couple days in advance, and I asked her what kind of stickers she’d like for her reward. She said red polka dots.

What?

No Dora? Or hearts or stars? And then I remembered, she likes those pricing circles that you get at office supply stores.

Awesome. Let’s make this whole thing polka dot themed since I tend to blow things out of proportion and M&Ms are already little round buggers anyway.

Look at that polka dotted gift bag. You know what's in there? A ton of different panties! Yep. More panties than she can probably use in a year. I bought every 4T pair Target had.

Salty snacks and gifts to wrap in polka dotted gift paper. The idea with the salty snacks is that they will make her thirsty, which will make her drink more thus giving her more opportunities to go pee pee in the potty.

And then I got all crafty. As it turns out Charlie didn't really care about the M&Ms. But the jar was cute.

In keeping with the polka dotted theme I made my husband hang paper lanterns in the bathroom downstairs. At this point he made it very clear that he thought I had lost my freaking mind. I didn't care. Has he met me? This is a POLKA DOTTED POTTY PARTY. Jeez.

Since we had talked Charlie’s ear off about for two days about her potty party she was very excited Saturday morning and by noon had already pee peed in the potty five times.

Because I knew the M&Ms weren't really going to do much for her I had modified the chart by adding drawings of gifts. Every time she got to a drawing of a gift she got to open a special present, which was typically a book or bath toy. This she LOVED.

By early afternoon I was starting to get panicky about how many gifts we were going to need. (Also, my printer is running low on ink and I didn't feel like changing it hence the funky color. Moving on)

Normally Charlie poops in the morning, but by mid-day nothing had happened. We could tell she was dying, but she wouldn’t talk about it, so we were watching her like a hawk, and following her everywhere she went, saying things like, “let’s go try to poo poo in the potty.”

A few weeks ago in a moment of weakness Steve promised Charlie an iPhone if she pooped in the potty. I’m not kidding. She hasn’t let this go. Now any time anyone says anything about pooping in the potty she says, “And get iPhone?”

Luckily for Steve iPod Touches (refurbished ones) were on Woot the other day and he grabbed one. So in the event that she does EVER poop on the potty we’re set. I know this is probably ridiculous and excessive, but that’s us. Ridiculous and excessive.

After a long, fun, exhausting, playful day that included one turtle, one  pee pee accident in daddy’s leather chair, one poo poo accident and THIRTEEN pee pees in the potty we’re counting this as a successful first attempt at real potty training.

Murtle the Turtle before she was returned to the creek

Day two wasn’t as exhausting and included about the same stats (minus the turtle). We were so stir crazy we had to get out, so we went to the Botanical Gardens (with a diaper on because I am a chicken). My friend Natalie swears by this one-day potty training method she found on Pinterest.We did a lot of the things it mentions like calling, but we didn’t do the weird running back and forth thing.

Charlie & Abby at the Botanical Gardens

Charlie and the chickens at the Botanical Gardens of the Ozarks

Whatever you chose to do, good luck!

By the way, this is how we wrapped up the weekend. Not too shabby.

What that means is that over the next few days you’ll see more reviews and giveaways than normal. That doesn’t mean anything has necessarily changed about the site. It just means I’m backlogged. There are some really fun things coming your way, they just aren’t all spaced out like they usually are, so don’t freak out.

For now I’m going to see Michael Pollen at the Walton Art Center because I need to jump back on that organic food wagon. Y’all remember when I got all psycho about food, right?

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Nate Steiner (c)

Is it a ridiculous goal to want to wear one again? Here I am 35 years old, and trying to loose a significant spare tire off my middle. Even if I do shed said spare tire won’t the skin just hang there like a flap?
I mean, is it possible to have a flat tummy again really? Without Photoshop?

Or should I be content to live the rest of my life wearing tankinis and one-piece swimsuits? Am I done forever with the bikini? Should I just let the idea go?

The internal conflict is this:

If I let it go then I have given up. But if I continue to fight for the bikini am I setting myself up for failure? For something that is unattainable, and unreasonable expectation?

Which is worse? Which is better?

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Scott Robinson (c)

So I got a Facebook friend request from my biological mother…

whom I’ve never met.

Ever.

There she was in my on my computer screen.

A picture of a 54 year old woman with long dark hair who looked liked she had lived five or ten lives in those five-and-a-half decades.

She looked rough, but in some ways as innocent as a child.

Her eyes were familiar, but nothing else really.  I could see low self-esteem and regret in them immediately. How does one radiate low self-esteem and regret in a thumbnail-sized profile picture?

Looking at her now I know that everything I thought would’ve been different about my childhood if I’d been raised by her, would, in fact, have been so.

Growing up I was surrounded by a supportive network of role-model type adults who were appropriately involved in their children’s lives. They were in the bleachers at basketball games, straightening collars and ties at the 8^th grade graduation ceremony, serving salad with dinner every night. This was my experience.

Meanwhile this woman I’was traveling from town-to-town and man-to-man probably thinking she’d figure it out “this time” or she’d get it right “this time.”

But she obviously hadn’t… figured it out… or gotten it right.

I felt sympathy for her. I wanted to reach through the screen and grab her face and say, “You CAN do more than this. You CAN be okay.”

But it isn’t that easy is it?

This woman who is nineteen years older than me, seemed child-like.

If I had grown up in the trailer parks and apartments with my birth mom EVERYTHING would be different now.

Instead, my sister and I were removed from our parents when I was six months old and she was two. There was neglect, a little more than recreational drug use and a general lack of supervision. Our parents were teens.

They had been raised right, but they also loved to party. It happens in the best families. Neither of them had been raised in a trailer, much less a single-wide trailer.

I’m certain I would not be where I am right this very moment without the gracious parents who didn’t have to raise me, but did.

It isn’t all about who raises you, though.

While I’ve never met my birth mom, I did however know my birth dad.

He was around, kind of like a

brother or

an uncle

and I thought he was SO. FREAKIN. COOL.

He was a combination of Luke Duke from the Dukes of Hazard (the TV show, not the terrible movie remake) and Hank Williams, JR, or as daddy called him “Bocefus.”

He drank a lot, always won the beer-drinking contest at the local Lutheran church’s Oktoberfest, had three-wheelers, smoked a little Pot and dated trashy women.

You can see why I thought he was so awesome, right?

Then one summer day in 1989, the summer before I started 8^th grade, my dad was struck by lightening and killed. This brother/uncle/daddy/hero/role model of mine was gone.

So in his honor I started drinking.

Then my senior year of high school I started smoking pot.

Then my freshman year of college I tried a lot of other, much worse drugs and behaviors.

But those things weren’t in my dad’s honor.

Those other drugs were about addiction, which I battled for years until I hit a terrible bottom and realized I’d been raised better than that.

Six years ago I finally cleaned up.

I got sober because I don’t want to be that woman full of low self-esteem and regret at fifty four.

I want to be the woman who is full of life and energy and amazing experiences.

I want to be a woman that is a great mom, a successful business woman, an expert at something, an athlete. I want to be a good, caring friend. I want to be beautiful, and not tired-looking.

It was difficult, but I turned down this woman’s friend request and sent her note saying someday maybe we’d meet, but it wouldn’t be on Facebook, and I wished her the best.

I don’t know where she is now, and I do care. I want her to be happy, joyous and free the same way I want everyone to be happy, joyous and free. But she isn’t my mother.

My mother, Pat, raised me know that I should…

Listen to your mother when she says “Don’t do drugs.”

Listen to your mother when she says, “You’re capable of more.”

Listen to your mother when she says, “Stick with the winners.”

Listen to your mother when she says, ”everything happens for a reason.”

Listen to your mother when she says, “What does not kills us WILL make us stronger.”

Listen to your mother when she says, “I love you.

Listen to your mother even if she is NOT the one who gave birth to you.

There might have been a few hiccups, like the street being closed in front of the venue because of a bike rice ALL DAY, and the doors being locked so that the cast couldn’t get in to rehearse, and a teen orchestra playing in a theater next door, and a couple missing  cast members for a short time, and some wimpy sandwiches, but the SHOW was amazing. And the stories were amazing. And the people were amazing. And most importantly to me… I didn’t vomit. Or cry. Or leave. Or die.

Backstage at Listen To Your Mother Show Northwest Arkansas 2012 – Walton Art Center

Thank you so much to every single person who came to the show, and most of all to Jasmine Brown, Shannon Magsam, Kerri Case, Heather Davis, Jill Van Trease, Angie Albright, Kyran Pittman, Gwen Rockwood, Jocelyn Morelli, Misti Pryor, Shannon Hahn, Kelly Zega and especially the leader of the whole damn thing Lela Davidson.

Lela and me at the cast party at the Iceberg

We put on one helluva show. NYC, San Francisco, DC, Austin and Philly have a lot to live up to.

Where the magic happened

Tomorrow I will post the story I read. And when the videos are available I will share those. They are hilarious and sad and witty and important.

Confession: I’ve been sitting on a review because I didn’t really know what to do with it. I get that the pen is mightier than the sword, so my goal is to never be overtly mean on Evolved Mommy, and I don’t intend to start now. From the moment I saw the demo video for this product I thought it was the most absurd parenting product I had ever seen. Initially I wasn’t going to do the review at all, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this… this… Lapiluv.

It’s a reversible apron that holds your iphone, ipad and/or attachable toys for your baby or toddler.

The idea is sweet and simple, but the execution is demeaning. I am a mom, not a toy.Or a Teletubby.

This is not okay.Although it was fun around the office one day.

That’s all I’m going to say. You can judge for yourself. Here ya go.

First, I’d like to thank Moxy Ox for my beautiful new logo and graphics. Did y’all notice the little plug at on the “y”? Cute, right? It’s more prominent in the stacked logo.

And, and thank you Salty Dog Interactive for helping with my design and theme installation. Seriously. That’s the no-so-glamorous work that I don’t get, but really really appreciate.

Now back to Listen To Your Mother. If you are in Northwest Arkansas and haven’t gotten your tickets yet, this show is full of awesome. It’s a celebration of motherhood in honor of mother’s day (which is right around the corner so start shopping now) and it’s going to be a powerful experience.

If you’d like to come just comment below and I’ll pick a winner at random Friday at noon. Yipes! That’s tomorrow.