All posts in Life

I want to tell you about a mom who has 50 kids. Her name is Maggie Doyne, she’s only 28 years old, and she’s changing the world through her foundation: BlinkNow.

After her senior year in high school, Maggie found herself backpacking along the dirt roads of Nepal’s poverty-stricken villages where she met women and children struggling to survive the aftermath of a decade-long civil war. She called her parents and asked them to send her the $5,000 she had earned babysitting.

Over the next two years, Maggie and her team built Kopila Valley Children’s Home, which is now home to a family of over 50 beautiful children from infants to teenagers.

We are so inspired by Maggie’s mission that we are donating a portion of every Munchkin Report subscription to BlinkNow. Together we can change the world in the blink of an eye!

Maggie is one of just 10 finalists for CNN Heroes award! Vote for her here.

I am very fortunate that my father has been part of our caregiving team since Emma was born. Their bond is unbreakable, their love for each other incomparable and their daily activities…unorthodox.

I was an English major in college and I love books. Our house is littered with them. Nothing excites me more than knowing that Emma has inherited that love, so when my dad began reading her catalogues I was appalled. “Here Dad, read Goodnight Moon!” I urged as he flipped through the Frontgate catalogue. “Dad, look how much she loves Dr. Seuss books” I begged as they eagerly poured through the pages of Pottery Barn Kids.

In the never ending war with myself, I let this battle with my dad go unwaged. I was going to lose and I simply couldn’t compete with their enthusiasm for something so silly.

One weekend, as I pleaded with Emma to read “There’s a Wocket in My Pocket” in lieu of Crate and Barrel, I once again relented. And then something happened. As we turned the pages she started to name things, lots of things: blue chair, flowers, lots of grass, that’s a table, a crib, a window. The colors, the objects, how alive each page was in an attempt to sell you things.

Maybe I was sold? In the grand scheme of things, it certainly seems more practical for Emma to know about real objects instead of Wockets.

Maybe my dad was onto something. I will likely never admit that to him, and I will certainly never give up my books, but right next to them we now embrace a pile of “catalogue books” as Emma calls them.

Give it a try and let me know what you think.

We absolutely love what Asha and Christine are doing at ParentHacks–they are donating October royalties of their book Minimalist Parenting sold through a special link to benefit women in Ethiopia. As a mother to a two year old daughter, this touches me on so many levels. We are blessed to have the opportunities we have here, and this is a harsh reminder of the realities that exist elsewhere.

It is wonderful to see ParentHacks using their blog to get the message out there. Thanks ladies! Oh and if you haven’t read their book, we are big fans 🙂

Get a great book (we’re big fans) and help women in Ethiopia at the same time by using this special fundraising link: http://bit.ly/helpwomenatrisk.

In school you’re always being measured: report cards, mid-terms, finals. You always know where you stand. The feedback system is clear, concise, and sometimes cruel.

I remember the day vividly. I was 5 years old, leaving George Washington school, my mom’s hand in mine walking toward our ’75 blue Volvo. She said to me: “Mrs. Falace loves having you in Kindergarten. She says you are smart and nice and social. Maybe too social sometimes. She says you just love to talk to the other kids.”

It seemed like a compliment. But was it a compliment? Wait…maybe it was criticism? I’m 5. I’m fun. I’m perfect….no? I took that feedback very much to heart. So much, in fact, that I went from super-friendly to somewhat shy to totally unsure. And now, at 36, I’m here to tell you that chit chat is not cheap.

From the time my daughter Emma was born, I talked to her, sang to her, and read to her. This little peanut who could only respond with a coo here an there was a captive audience. Not critical of my talk, she was entertained by it. I went on and on, about the weather (“So sunny today!”), about what I was doing (“Mama’s washing the dishes. Mama wishes daddy would do them!”), about everything around us because, let’s face it, Emma needed me to tell her what everything was. Finally my gift of gab became the lesson plan for Emma’s life.

By the time Emma was one-and-a-half she was narrating our lives. She could tell us what color things are, what books she wanted, commented on the weather, and of course knew mama does not like doing the dishes.

So for all you chatterboxes who were told in class to keep it down, today’s lesson is to keep on talking. You will inspire milestones upon milestones of cuteness. Just last night after I hugged Emma she looked me in the eye and said ‘I’m so happy’. Now that’s a passing grade.