Great Gift for Mom, Dad, and Grandparents for under $15!

Pretend for a moment that you are 4 years old. Picture the season, the aromas, the warmth or coolness of the air, the people around you, and the joy of being 4. Now fast forward to 24, where you have just witnessed your life through those 20 years in a flash. Did you ever say anything bright, amusing, or just plain off-the-charts smart? Look around you. You see a book, a journal, really, sitting in front of you, and in it is recorded all the funny, silly, and imaginative things you said and did as a kid. Your life in a book! Wouldn't that be a great gift to receive?

Now be you – at whatever age you are. If you have children, which I'm assuming you do, since you're reading this blog, ask yourself how many times you said, "I should write that down," when your kids say or do something imaginative, funny, or far too intellectually beyond his or her age? Or maybe you do write down those little gems, but they sit on scraps of paper or they are buried deep inside folders on your computer, lost. 😞

Wouldn't you love to have an easily accessible book where you could record all those funny, silly, and imaginative things your kids say and do? And wouldn't you love to give it to your child as a gift when he or she grows up? You can!

And so can YOUR parents! The two journals shown below, one for moms and dads, and one for grandparents, allow all of you to record those brilliant scenarios you don't want to forget. And each book costs less than $15!

In full disclosure, I must tell you that I am an Amazon Affiliate, so I will make a little money if you decide to buy one or both of these journals. I'm also the one who came up with the idea for these journals. 

Treat yourself to one or both of these journals. You'll have a lifetime of giggles and you'll brighten the lives of your kids or grandkids when they grow up.

Thank you so much for reading this blog. Feel free to share it with friends and family. Take time to find a little joy and sprinkle it everywhere.

Little Boys Love Their Urinators

If this blog sounds familiar, I apologize. You see, I have been warned by Google – again – that by mentioning the male anatomy, I have violated the terms of Adsense, so in a repeat (twice – because the url of the blog didn't change after I changed the title and the name of the male anatomy) of the blog I originally published on July 5, 2010, which Google demanded I delete, I am now complying once again with the Adsense rules by changing the name of the male anatomy from what it is actually called anatomically to what I hope will appeal to Google's terms – for the sake of this blog, the official name of the male anatomy is now called a urinator. Phew! That was one looooong sentence.

And now back to the original blog (with changes) for the blog which is now called, Little Boys Love Their Urinators:
Already I hear women applauding everywhere, because as everybody knows, from the time they discover their "private parts" in the earliest year of their lives, little boys can't stop playing with them and they can't stop showing them off.

I will not embarrass any one of my grandsons in this blog (I can already hear the older ones sighing relief), nor will I embarrass my own son (HUGE sigh of relief), but I have to blog about this new situation. 

Before I begin, let me explain something – having never been a boy, I can only imagine what it must feel like to find something hanging from my body that had previously been hidden inside a diaper.

Little boys LOVE their "urinators" and they LOVE what they can do with them. The love, praise, admiration, and excitement for anything "urinator" related is a genetically male birthright. From the time they first discover theirs, they flaunt it and show it to everybody they know (and to everybody they don't know).

"Look what I can do! Look what I can do!"

You will find little boys watering the lawn, spraying the entire bathroom, targeting diamond shapes on the shower curtains, and even building puddles on the rugs.

Their entire lives, beginning when they are very young, they hear the words, "Keep it in your pants."

Just this morning, one of my (nameless) grandsons was walking around holding his "urinator" as a weapon, daring to pee on anybody within spray range.

"That is your private part and you are supposed to keep it in your pants," one of my nameless children told him.

My grandson wasn't even slightly upset about the admonition, because he rolled his eyes and remarked, "It's not my pirate part" as he continued to "psssshhhhh psssshhhhh," his way around the house.

Of course, eventually, he placed his multi-tasking machine back into his pants. And, who knows, maybe when he pulls out his "pirate part" again, he'll be able to hoist a ship with it. "Ahoy, Maties! Look what I can do!"

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Story of the Goldfish

Let's face it. Sometimes divorce is cruel, so it helps to find a little humor in the midst of emotional turmoil. Here's where I found relief (in humorous moments with my kids):

Lindsey was around 4 years old when we bought our one and only goldfish. From the day we got that little goldfish, we discovered that he was never truly meant to live in a bowl.

Yes, like me, our little fish was a free spirit. He thought he was a bird. Or perhaps he was on a suicide mission, because we frequently found him (could have been a her) jumping out of the bowl.

Sadly, not long after we got our little goldfish, it, like so many of its relatives, died.

In explaining the death of her goldfish to a friend, Lindsey said, "He took one look at my dad, jumped out of the bowl, and died."

I often thought about that comment whenever he insulted me.