Texting + Driving = HORRIBLE and DEALY Equation.

This is sponsored content from
BlogHer and LG Text Ed

Sassy called me late last Sunday night from college. We talked about this and that, catching up on the details of college life. We encouraged her to take her car to help make her treks to the athletic field easier, and we knew that many of the others girls on this small campus had their vehicles, as well.

After a few minutes talking about random things, she began to talk about the real reason she called.

“We didn’t have (field hockey) practice Friday night. Instead, they showed us a film about a great high school athlete. He was very talented, cute and popular, and going to college for football. Then they showed him being in a horrible car accident and how he was killed. It was so depressing!”

I knew in my heart what was coming.

“I really didn’t need to see that. I realize that most people don’t really understand how it feels when it happens to someone you know, but it was so hard to watch. I already KNOW about alcohol and driving. I already KNOW about not using your phone, or doing anything when you are driving. I know what it’s like to live with that every day. I wish I didn’t know, but I do.”

I listened to her talk, but I was remembering the fine young man we lost when he was a 16 year-old driver. My heart ached with the memory of him, and I knew that hers did as well. We have all prayed that other families never have to live through that kind of trauma, but I know they will.

My children (Sassy and Bitchy in particular) are fully aware of the dangers of distracted driving- and are adamant about that danger with anyone and every one who will listen. Frankly, I DO think they’ve impacted all their friends, and anyone who has ridden with them these last few years.

IN this small, small way they hope and pray that even just those few lives that they touch with this important message are kept safe and secure.

I have asked Sassy why she is so incredibly adamant with her friends about the phone issue in the car.

“Mom, no one knows; no one but us. But you know what? I don’t WANT anyone else to know what this is like. So, I do what I do. I yell at YOU, I yell at dad, and I’ll yell at anyone else who thinks that driving distracted is cool.”

That’s my girl.

We may LOOK ordinary, but we are fabulous...

This is sponsored content from BlogHer and ABC's No Ordinary Family.

I’ve spent many a night in bed wondering where I went wrong.

I’ve spent a billion nights schlepping through every hill and dale delivering my children to soccer games, track meets, field hockey tournaments, football games and play dates. I’ve forgotten field trip permission slips, yearbook money, birthday parties, and many important papers.

I’ve embarrassed my children in front of teachers, friends, parents of friends, my co-workers and potential suitors.

My children (Bitchy, Sassy and The Golden Boy), despite all my best efforts, apparently still love me. I offer this as evidence, and will forever refer to it as Exhibit One:

Fortunately for us (can you see my eyes rolling?) Bitchy lives close enough to our house that she can take her evening billion-mile run and come right to our back door.

She walked in the door the other night for a short visit from her college campus and noticed a birthday card on my counter.

“Oh my GOD!” She exclaimed as she grabbed it. “Is that from SASSY? But I thought she HATED you!”

“Me, too!” I said. “Apparently we were wrong.”

And now I have finally realized that this family, this amazingly normal, yelling, fighting family is really INDEED extraordinary.

And each of these surprising moments is a lovely reminder about how wonderful normal really can be.

ABC’s No Ordinary Family hosted a video contest to find the most EXTRADORDINARY family in America and starting September 27th you can help vote for the winner! Between September 27 and October 1, watch the top 5 video submissions and vote for your favorite. Click here for details and be sure to vote!

If given a chance, I will TOTALLY mess you up...

This is a sponsored post from 8th Continent and BlogHer.

I like to pride myself on the fact that I’ve stumbled upon every conceivable method know to man to screw my kids up.

I’ve made every wrong decision.

I’ve bought every heinous piece of back to school clothing.

I’ve alienated every teacher, coach or friend’s parent in my attempts to “help” my child along the way.

I like to think it’s a talent; my children, however, declare that they are cursed.

While the two older girls are happily away at college, Golden Boy is now the one at the receiving end of my wisdom.

Here is yesterday’s Parenting Lesson number 4,503.

While arranging an “Air-Soft Battle” as the end of the summer celebration, I received a phone call from on of the mothers involved. (Unfortunately, I forgot that tween boys hear everything within a ten mile radius.)

“Golden Boy does NOT want to have the battle unless John can come. Can we perhaps find another day this three-day weekend that will work? He was devastated that John was grounded. Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay. THAT will work. Thanks! Bye.” Click.

At this point I heard what sounded like a herd of elephants charging into the room.

“OH MY GOD!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!! You said I was DEVASTATED? Crap. You made it sound like I LOVE him or something! MAN! I am not GAY you know. Good job, Mom. You’ve done it again.”

“I did NOT! I was just talking. I never…”

“Geez mom! Okay. From now on just let ME do the talking.”

Was I sad the girls were gone at college? It appears I still have some major damage I can do right here at home.

Let the fun begin.

The great part of this whole disaster? I know I am NOT ALONE! The good people over at 8^th Continent have gathered hysterical videos of moms JUST LIKE US! You know- the human ones; the moms that make mistakes, that try their best, that love their kids but always feel as if every move they make is the wrong one!

Do you have a story? Can you share something that will make the rest of us feel normal? Tell me here, and you will have the chance to win an amazing price from 8^th Continent, and along with that the respect of every other “normal” mother out there. In order to qualify you can post your idea here on Facebook, or Follow on Twitter here; and leave a comment below! And if you leave a comment HERE, you can win a $100 gift card from ME!!! Yes, I will be doing a random drawing for a prize RIGHT HERE.

Also, be SURE to visit BlogHer.com special offers page" at Blogher for a chance to win more!

Yes. Let the fun begin indeed.

Meet my new BFF, Ming Wang!

As I prepare for this incredible conference in New York City, my head is spinning!

I don't want to pack my entire drawer full of capris and sleeveless tops knowing full well I only wore half of what I brought to Chicago. (Sorry Tim Gunn- I know you loathe capris, but with Tightwad laid off yet again, I am stuck with what I've got; five year-old capris.)

I've watched the tweets and twitpic's flying left and right about what people are wearing. Frankly, I get jealous and a bit miffed. I'm always tempted to post shots of myself naked - claiming that this is my outfit for the conference. However, I do know that the "powers that be" know who I am and where I live online, so I do practice a bit of restraint.

Yet I always wonder how it is that these well-known bloggers can receive free outfits, invites to lavish private parties, and cameras, etc. for these conferences. What do they do? How do they do it? Frankly, I'm so busy supporting my family, sharing embarrassing stories about my kids and cleaning up after my dogs, that I can barely keep my house clean. (No comments, Bitchy.)

Then, the impossible happened. I received an email.

"Hi, Vodkamom. I am Jack Smith from the PR firm of Smith&Wesson. We would like to know if you are attending the BlogHer conference in NYC in August. Please let us know right away!"

My reply? "HELL YES I AM!!!!!" (Which might have sealed my NO INVITE to the Nikon party, but we'll never know.)

A week or so went by, and I forgot about the email - and then I received another. "Ming Wangwould like to send you an outfit to wear to the conference. Please go to this link, choose what you like and send us the information. We will make sure you receive it before the conference."

what? WHAT???? SHE is sending ME an outfit? I had to read the email a few hundred times, before I finally decided it was legit.

And yes, I followed the directions. Three days later, voila.

Of course, I'll be wearing it to every party I attend (except the NIKON party, of course) so if you see me on the last night of the conference and we start chatting, you might not want to stand too close.

And the fact that there are no bottoms? It's a good thing I shaved.

(And don't be jealous. My hair is WAY TOO SHORT- so we're even.)

Good Deeds by the Dozen. (aka How to fight the blues.)

Clearly my guardian angel has plans for me. Do they include making a billion dollars? Do they include, perhaps, being able to pay my power bill and mortgage payment in the SAME MONTH? I’m not sure.

Isn’t it enough that I supposedly spent my previous several lives in a monastary? (Which, frankly, I’m beginning to question. And, hello, I don’t think it’s too much to ask to perhaps throw in a Prada, or Coach bag or two. )

Just when I thought that working with five-year olds daily was my "do-good for life" payment, she went and threw me another great opportunity.

Some special people have reached out to me to participate in a “Do Good Day” project. It's called "77 Kids 'Do Good' Day". To put it simply, I received a package in the mail that contained various items that would help in our efforts to perform some random acts of kindness in my community. And 77 of lots of things.

I fell in love with the idea.

Random acts of kindness - they make the world go round, people. I love them even MORE when they are anonymous. I perform them as often as I can, in little ways, and I don’t like to shout about it - as I know many of you do, to. (Except perhaps the two previous posts- but that was different. J)

I asked Golden Boy and several of the neighborhood boys that have been eating me out of house and HOME if they wanted to help me out with this. I suggested going to one of our local retirement communities, and filling the meters downtown with quarters. You know what they ALL said?

“Sure!”

I explained AGAIN what we were doing, in English, very slowly, and they STILL said yes. (Now, whoever replaced this kids with other people, speak now or forever hold your peace.)

So today, armed with bushels of flowers, notes of well wishes, rolls and rolls of quarters, and the hope that I’ve planted a seed in some young boys’ hearts, we head out on our mission of goodwill. We will visit a local retirement community - where Sassy works serving in the dining hall; and then head downtown to fill meters and hand flowers and warm wishes to students and neighbors.

Not only will the spirits of some members of this community be lifted, but so will ours.

So will ours, indeed.

Now get out there and do ONE nice thing today.

(I'll post pics ..this afternoon. Oh, the winner of the camera?? Unmitigated Me. However, had I KNOWN how much math was involved in adding comments for telling me funny stories, etc., I would have taken an advanced Algebra course before posting the *@&#^ contest. Despicable Me Contest is STILL ON!!)

The Dirty Dozen's (minus 8) Good Deeds.

I hustled the four boys into the car, along with five bouquets of flowers, the cards the boys had written, three rolls of quarters and a prayer that they had all showered and were wearing clean clothes for our Do Good Day mission. We were on the verge of running late as I had just finished with summer camp, and I wanted to tell them what I expected of them that afternoon.

"Okay, guys, when we get to the ChipNDale Retirement Community, and you are handing out the flowers, you could say..."

"Mom. MOM! I think we know how to talk."

"Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to give you some ideas, or.."

"We got it. We're not little kids. I think we know how to talk to people."

"Yeah. We can talk to people- even the elders!" I heard from the back seat.

And so it was on.

We arrived at the Village and were greeted by a lovely woman who welcomed us with gratitude. She walked us up the stairs towards the kitchen, where she suggested we begin rewarding the kitchen staff who work so hard every day.

The boys began handing out flowers to residents and visitors as we made our way down the hallway.

At first I gently gestured with my head towards people and they took the cues. Soon, they were approaching people and handing out the flowers - along with huge smiles, laughs and stickers. I noticed more than once that residents would reach out to hug whoever had handed them the flower, and each one returned every hug willingly and happily.

As we left the building, the boys were laughing and talking about what people said, how much fun it was and how easy it had been. As I watched them talking and laughing, I felt so proud. I was wiping my eyes as I thought about how this simple gesture meant so much to so many.

We made our way downtown and found a spot in the middle of a busy parking lot. The boys, pockets laden with quarters, made their way up and down rows of meters, whooping it up when they came upon one blinking that time had expired.

"We have saved SO MANY PEOPLE!" one of the shouted.

"Yeah, but they probably won't even know it!" another replied.

And at that moment I turned to see a police officer put his ticket-giver-outer into his holster and look in my direction. We started towards each other, and I had an inkling he wasn't happy. (Cue the shoot-out music.)

"You know, you really aren't supposed to feed all the meters." He said in a very stern tone.

Being the teacher, I replied, "Now, now. These boys are doing a service project, and learning a valuable lesson today. What would you have them do instead?"

"Well, to be honest, I work at the fire station as well. Here's the number. Next time they want to do a service project, have them come over and wash the engines for us." He smiled at me, glanced one more time at the lot, shook his head and turned to walk the other direction.

On the drive home the boys were talking a mile a minute, and those of you with a gaggle of boys around your house know what I mean. At one point someone said, "That was so so cool. Even getting busted by the COPS was cool!"

There were many amazing lessons learned today. The last one? Being good is almost as much fun as being bad.

When Despicable is Good.

It was last November and I was searching on-line for a recipe. You should know that I don't often search online for recipes. Frankly, I'm lucky to get the pasta in the water and the Ragu out of the jar in time for anyone who MIGHT be here to actually eat; and if I entered every on-line contest I came upon when searching the web, I would get even LESS done than I do now.

However, I had eaten delicious Italian Wedding Soup at a party, and decided that it was something I wanted to make. Hence, the search for the recipe.

I landed on the Cooking Light website and a box for a contest immediately popped up. I glanced at it quickly, and instinctively clicked on the close box. I proceeded to search the site, but I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind about that contest box. It was like an annoying itch that got worse and worse until I decided to get out of the website and go back again to see if I could enter the contest.

When I logged in this time, there was no box. I repeated several times - all with the same result. I closed up my computer and went about the business of dinner.

That nagging feeling, however, would not go away. It bothered me for several days, and I couldn't figure out why. I decided to go back to the website and as soon as I opened it - there was the box. I read it more carefully: "Win a $100 gift card - five given out monthly!" I laughed, thinking the odds were certainly horrible - but I filled it out just so that nagging feeling would go away. It was almost Christmas, I needed every penny I could get, so I finished it and forgot about it.

Two weeks later, guess what? I received the email from Cooking Light. I had won the $100 gift card! I replied several times to the person who emailed ME, asking if this was a joke, and had I REALLY won the card? Really? She assured me that yes, I had indeed won.

It was just another reminder to me that my guardian angel might, in fact, still like me.

I've had another nagging feeling of late, and it wasn't until today that I've figured out what to do about it.

I had an amazing offer from the people involved with Despicable Me. I am able to give away to TWO winners a prize pack that includes tee shirts, a hat, balloons, pencil with Minion top and a Moo-Can. Now who doesn't need a Moo-Can???

The issue to me became, how can I do this giveaway? What do I want? I couldn't think of anything. (Besides a book deal, a billion dollars, everyone to add money to the Paypal button, get me a thousand more followers, oh hell, I could go on and on.) However, I was really, in my heart, wondering if there was perhaps someone else that might need something.

As I began wondering who I could help, I was contacted by Kevin from Always Home and Uncool about an amazing opportunity to help the JM Foundation. They are in the running to receive an amazing amount of money for their cause. All that is needed is a vote. One little vote. Every single day, of course, but it's very painless and very worth your time.

So, in order to win this package from Despicable Me, you have to do one tiny thing.

Vote for Cure JM here.

Tweet about voting for Cure JM.

Oh, and if you BLOG about this contest, you get like a gazillion more entries.

If you vote daily, you can enter this contest daily. Easy as pie. I will close the contest on July something or other (July 31). Come back, let me know that you voted and tweeted - and you are entered again. I will do the RANDOMIZER - and I do not mean that I will throw your name off the deck and see which one lands in the dog poop. Last time I did that it was disgusting. And I had more than one winner. (What are the odds?)

So, do your good deed for the day and vote. It won't hurt a bit.