Friday Favorite: Celebrate Society Shirts

Everyone possesses talent.  How one uses it makes all the difference.

When Jennifer Laws was in the hospital with her newborn twins and planning their future parties, her mind wandered to other babies in the world who were not born into such happy circumstances. Recently, she decided to use her party skills to make a difference.

Thanks to Jennifer, children who are in a local emergency shelter on their birthday will get the regulation cake from the kitchen--and they will also get a "party in a bag."  It's a kit she created that helps each child, when surrounded by strangers on the anniversary of his or her birth, understand that someone knows their existence is worth celebrating.

I love this idea almost as much as I love Jennifer's heart.

Want to know how to help?

She's funding this endeavor by creating designs that you can buy at her etsy shop. 

 

Print and iron the design yourself or pay a little more for her to create the whole shirt.

What a simple way to celebrate your little ones and help celebrate another child as well!

Any day decals:

birthday party decals:

and check out these adorable Halloween decals--just perfect for a t-shirt or treat bag:

 
Last month I witnessed the giddiness that is Jennifer on the morning of her sons' birthday party. "I love party day," she said, practically bouncing with joy. "This must be what Lebron James feels like on game day!"

Pretty accurate comparison.

Friday Favorite: Miss(ed) Oklahoma

Although she is queen of her domain, my friend Jennifer lives in a neighborhood of princesses and a home of four princes.  When a queen summons, I do her bidding.

She invited me to attend the Miss Oklahoma pageant in Tulsa to support her lovely neighbors. One was contestant Emily Ousley and the other was her "Oklahoma Star," a program in which little girls are mentored by contestants. They were both lovely.

Plus, I saw two OU Tri-Deltas were in the running, so I got all collegiate nostalgic. 

Although we almost missed the pageant.

On the way there, Jen said, "If anyone were with us, they'd kill us."

Yep.  But it was hilarious.

After spending an afternoon with me driving us to pedicures and tea at Dragonmoon Tea Company, Jennifer insisted on driving. She activated her On Star and said, "You have to get this."

Clearly, she didn't yet comprehend the magnitude of my geographical challenges. Like the Bermuda Triangle, my curse soon reached out and grabbed her.  We barreled down the interstate, following the instructions, and encountered a giant "CLOSED" sign plastered across our route.  I laughed at her surprise. This sort of thing always happened to me. She called and gathered new directions. We were to turn on 11th street. Guess what? We were at an intersection where both signs said 11th street. I kid you not. These things happen to me all the time. It's a gift.

The pageant began at 7:30. The rain began at 8:04.  We arrived in the parking lot at 8:08. As we raced toward the Mabee Center, a woman eyeballed us.   I called, "Did we miss the good part?" (Since I've never attended a pageant, I didn't know what that would be, but certainly there is one.)  She encouraged us to hurry because we'd missed the opening number and they were about to announce the top 15.

We never found our seats, but we caught a lot of the show.

In fact, I fear we were part of the show. A pregnant lady in heels.  A tired mom of three under three lugging a good-natured four-month-old. We found seats near her friends at one point, but because Baby J wasn't fond of classical music in the talent competition, we courteously sped out. Let me restate that...Jennifer was courteous. I'm pretty sure I bonked some poor guy on the head with both my purse and her diaper bag.

While watching the swimsuit competition from the aisle, an older gentleman must have been impressed with the soon-to-be crowned Betty Thompson.  He looked me up and down. "Those girls don't understand women don't look like that after thirty."  Hackles raised, I threw my shoulders back and pregnant belly forward.  "Speak for yourself.  After I had my first baby, I looked just like that." I patted my tummy. "You ought to see me next summer when I'm through with this one." 

He had the nerve to grimace like he didn't believe me.

To his credit, I checked myself out in the mirror before I left for the evening and thought remember when someone told you you looked hot, and you knew they weren't thinking you needed an air conditioner and glass of iced tea?

Still... Even queen mothers should be treated with respect or they can be be a royal pain.

Friday Favorite: Keen shoes

A few years ago, a student commented I'd never worn the same pair of shoes twice.  It was second semester. I was no Imelda Marcos, but she was right. Shoes were a weakness.

I lead a different life now.

Heels aren't practical while chasing a toddler or pregnant. Neither are they practical when my office parking lot is "paved" in gravel...but that's another blog.

During this pregnancy, it is not uncommon for me to change my shoes four times a day due to discomfort--and I used to happily teach on concrete floors while wearing high heels.

But I really need comfy shoes to get me through this hot summer pregnancy. 

In my experience, if someone says a brand of shoe is comfortable, it's the equivalent of getting set up on a blind date and having the matchmaker stress what a great personality your date has. In either case, you know the recipient of praise is not going to look good and you don't want it touching you.

A couple of years ago, our family friend Paul recommended Keen. Since the day my husband wore his first pair out of the store, he's rarely donned any other kind while not at work. It's a struggle to keep him from sporting the sandals with socks in the winter. (I told him if it embarrassed me, it will mortify his children, but I think that statement only served as incentive.)

Alas, pregnancy makes you do strange things. I made a list of all the comfy shoes people have praised over the years and sought them in stores.

Only Keen has lived up to the hype. 

In my pregnant discomfort, I acquiesced and bought a pair.  The store was out of aqua, so I purchased the bright yellow. I figured if I was going to wear those shoes, I should be bold and truly own the ugly.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I love them so much, I think I may buy another pair.

Have you tried Keen shoes? Do you have any other comfy shoe suggestions?

TV Tuesday: Pregnant in Heels

Oh my goodness. 

That's what you'll say when you watch it, too.


Pregnant in Heels is a show about "maternity concierge" Rosie Pope who caters to the "millionaire mamas" of the upper East side in Manhattan.

My pal Jennifer who is a party planner and super-mom introduced me to this show.

I confess it makes me chipper when I'm having a stressful day and feel less-than-prepared for my wee one on its way. 

One eye-popping moment is when Rosie tries to help a completely unprepared mom by introducing a real-life infant.  The millionaire mama holds the teeny-tiny at arms' length before thrusting him at her husband.  She says something like...."Oooh, it's too heavy. I need to go to the gym." The birth is about a week away.  Yeah. Good luck on those biceps, lady. Not to worry. She's planning to have a nanny. And within three days of baby's due date, some other hired hand is expected to set up the crib.

Oh my goodness.

Another couple calls their unborn a parasite.  They don't want a baby messing up their clean-lined, modern apartment. The mom-to-be's solution regarding toys?  She compromises by saying two blocks will be allowed so the space invader can click them together.

Oh my goodness.

Another couple, who is more impressed with themselves than probably anyone else, hires Rosie to help them "brand" their baby.  They need a name. They want his name to suggest to others just how important they think they are. After a panel of people--ranging from a linguist to a poet--suggest names, they have a focus group offer opinions. As if that isn't enough, Rosie throws a dinner party for the couple's closest friends so they can be discredited by the couple, too.  Guess what?  The couple chooses the name that NO ONE likes, except them.

Some people have more money than sense.

Needless to say, Rosie's services prevail. When she visits each couple after the baby is born, I don't feel the need to call child services.

How Rosie Pope manages to keep her cool is beyond my comprehension.  Not only are most of the mama moments over-the-top, but Rosie is enduring in-vitro fertilization. Wowzuh.  I'm hoping to see a major meltdown when her hormones strike back at some pregnant diva.

The show is highly entertaining and offers anyone the opportunity to feel smug.

Grab a martini--or mocktini--and check out the first episode on Hulu.

Cheers!