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Yes, it happened. I went from OMG I’m pregnant to I’m having my 5th baby to I love this baby more than a million chocolate croissants to how is my baby already turning one?!

For some reason, since the invention of parents, we have all been amazed by the movement of time. Scientists claim that time is still moving at the same speed that it did the summer I was 8, had chicken pox and had to sit on a tire swing in the shade with nothing to do. But I swear, it moves much more quickly now that I don’t have chicken pox.  And also, now that I have these children who refuse to stop growing.

On Mother’s Day morning, nearly 4-year-old Chase walked into my room with a CD player, plugged it in, said to me, “This is for you on Mother’s Day,” and pushed play.

And “How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You” started playing. Rick said Chase came up with the idea all on his own. I mean, could a mother hope for anything more?

Even though I suspect that motherhood might be an addiction, this is my last baby.

But then it suddenly occurred to me, hey, maybe if we keep treating Cash like a baby, he will STAY a baby. So the twins and I gave it a try….

Do you think his big brother pushed over that crib? Hmm….

I would love for Cash to see this video when he’s a little older. But because there’s a good chance I’ll drop my iPhone into the toilet while trying to help 5 kids in the bathroom before then, I’m going to upload it to LegacyBuilder.

A few weeks ago I told you about LegacyBuilder, a website where you can easily organize your photos, videos and the story of your life. I can put this video in the LegacyBuilder vault for Cash to open at a later date. So for example, on his 10 birthday, I’ll get an email that it’s time to show Cash this clip and he’ll finally know that his mom put him in a little mini crib and tried to convince him to stay an infant. He’ll probably roll his eyes and pity me.

If you want to try out LegacyBuilder, sign up with code MAMABIRD2 to get a free lifetime premium account, up to 25GB.

Oh and if you think that now that my babies are growing, I’m going to run out and get a puppy, you are the crazy one.

This is a sponsored post for LegacyBuilder. All ideas are my own. 





I think I recently got taken hostage by a man in a hairnet.

He was behind the deli counter.

From what I can tell, there are 2 kinds of people who go to the grocery store deli. The people who need to buy deli. (That’s me.) And the people who need lunch and have decided they are going to eat their lunch slice by slice as they order their deli.  (That’s not me.)

The best thing that ever happened to me when it comes to deli meat is a device called a computer where you can order your deli ahead of me. Then you just pick it up without waiting or talking to anybody.

But once in awhile, I unexpectedly run by the grocery store, and have to actually take a deli number. And that’s pretty much how I got taken hostage.

After my number was called, I tried like mad to order a half pound of ham from the man in the hairnet.

“Ma’am can I interest you in some Boar’s Head Maple Honey Turkey Breast?” he asked with a tremendous amount of enthusiasm.

“No, I’d like — ”

“Or how about some Boar’s Head first Cut Corned Beef Brisket. It’s on sale.”

“No, I’d like — ”

“Or you might be interested in the Picante Sharp Provolone Cheese?”

I mean, does this guy work on commission?

I finally got to complete a sentence.

“Those all sound super delicious and I’m filing it away for my next cold cuts party but for today I’d really like a half pound of uncured, all natural ham.”

And how did I want it sliced?

“Sliced in the shape of Mickey Mouse,” I requested.

Turns out, totally not an option (which in my opinion is a major oversight in Florida). So I went with “thin.”

But you know he wasn’t happy with just slicing it. He wanted me to try it. I didn’t want to try it. Mostly because it was 10:30 in the morning and who the heck eats ham at 10:30 in the morning? (Bacon is not the same as sliced deli ham. I’m sticking to that theory.)

Anyway, after the ham, I ordered sliced chicken which he was also very anxious for me to try. Again, I declined. He was not happy.

“Is that all?” he asked, clearly disappointed that I wasn’t reaching my full deli potential.

“Yes, that’s it. Thanks!”

“You know we have a whole array of fresh salads right behind you – macaroni salad, coleslaw, chicken salad, egg salad –”

“Got it. I will totally check it out!”

And then I ran like mad until I bumped right into another store employee holding a tray of deli meats. This place was way overstaffed on a Tuesday morning.

“Do you want to try some smoked ham wrapped in horseradish cheddar cheese?”

Is this a cocktail party?

I don’t know if they just wore me down or if it I was feeling a slight buzz from the essence of rotisserie chicken cooking near by but I caved.

“Sure, I’ll try it.”

And hot damn, it was delicious. “I love the horseradish cheese,” I exclaimed.

“You can get it right over there at the deli,” she happily explained.

Of course I could. And I made my way back to the man in the hairnet.





My husband sent me this email…

“The maintenance light in the minivan has been on for weeks. Do you think you can take the car in soon?”


I wrote back….

“Well, remember when I hit that parked car on our street? And there was also the time that I got a speeding ticket. And not so long ago, I drove off with the spare keys on our front hood and lost them. Seems like I’ve done a lot with the minivan recently. So maybe it’s your turn. Can you take it in?”


And he wrote…

“You know none of those things are actually helpful when it comes to the car, right?”


And I wrote….

“Yes, but they are car-related. And very exhausting. Especially searching the neighborhood for those spare keys. So my car energy is sort of used up. It seems like you’re on deck.”


And he wrote…

“Let’s put that aside for a moment. We also need our wills amended.”


And I wrote….

“OMG, are you going to murder me?!”


And he wrote…

“I think if I didn’t murder you for crashing the car, getting a ticket and losing our spare keys, it’s highly unlikely that I’m going to now.”


And I wrote…

“Just remember – if you murder me, you will have to fold ALL the laundry. And put it away. Forever.”


And he wrote…

“You make a compelling case.”


And I wrote…

“Do you realize the twins are about to be 4 and our baby is turning 1. I’m so depressed. I feel like an empty nester.”


And he wrote…

“If an empty nest had 5 kids in it. We’ll be lucky if we get them out before we fill out the paperwork for our nursing home.”


And I wrote….

“Seriously, I’m so depressed the kids are gone.”


And he wrote…

“They aren’t gone! In fact they never leave us alone.”


And I wrote…

“Tomato, Tomato.( It’s really hard to make that work when you write it down.) See what I mean? On the computer, tomato, tomato looks the same. Unless of course, I write, ‘to-may-to, to-maw-to.’  Now do you get it?”


And he wrote…

“I got it the first time. I’m familiar with the phrase. So what about the minivan?”


And I wrote…

“I’ll take it in next Tuesday.”


And he wrote…

“Couldn’t you have just said that to begin with?”


And I wrote…

“Yeah, but I thought I might wear you down and in a fit of frustration, you would just bring in the minivan yourself.”


And he wrote…

“I don’t think so.”


And I wrote…

“Worth a shot. Love you.”


And he wrote…

“Love you.”


Hey, it’s Cash! Since I’m just shy of my first birthday, this is my first guest post.

I’ll be honest – I’m not typing. I mean, how would I know how to type? I’m a baby. I’m actually dictating this post to my 9 year old sister who just loves getting on the computer.

(Umm.. Dylan, can you stop looking up photos of Niles and those other One Direction pansies and focus on this very important post.)

Anyway, my mother (the woman who last week drove off with the spare keys on her hood and now we can’t find them), was just named one of the 2014 Blogher Voices of the Year because of a guest post by my brother Chase.

I’m totally happy for my mother but why should my brother get all the glory?!

I’m the rock star over here.

cash on swingcash on swingcash on swing

You should hear everyone go on and on about how ridiculously cute and sweet I am. They keep throwing around this phrase, “good disposition” which must mean “doesn’t mind all that much when they leave me in my  high chair for 45 minutes before remembering to actually feed me.”

Meanwhile, my mom keeps trying to teach me how to clap, wave and open my arms to show I’m “SO BIG.” I want to tell her, “Mom, I’m your 5th kid. Why are you working so hard? Make yourself a cocktail and relax for minute. We’ll get to work on that clapping thing tomorrow. Friday at the latest.”

I really have been an awesome baby. Well, except for the car. I used to cry non-stop from the moment the car left the driveway until the destination. I could be an actor the way I could start and stop those tears.

But I quit that constant car crying thing because it was exhausting. You know, you get older and you just don’t have the energy of the younger babies.

My mom has been nuts over this teacher appreciation week. We’ve been bringing in lunches and gift cards. And then we all had to color notes for our teachers. Well, not me. Because first of all, I would eat the crayon and the paper. And second, I don’t have a teacher. Do you seriously think my mom and dad pony up money for me to take a class? No way.

I watch all these first borns in the neighborhood taking these really fun mommy and me music and yoga classes. Meanwhile, I go to a class my mommy calls, “trip to the grocery store” and another one called,  “we need gas again” where I don’t even get out of the car!

Please don’t tell my mom I griped about this because she’s still breastfeeding me and I really don’t want her to cut me off.

But in case she reads this post…. mom, I love you so much and I don’t know why you always say you have “the hands of an eighty year old woman” because I don’t think the wrinkles on your hands make you look a day over 65. Love, your youngest son Cash.


A CBS camera crew from Rick’s station came to our house on Saturday to shoot a story about hurricane preparations that will air in the Miami area later this month.

For the filming, I  wanted to wear a red shirt because it’s a power color and if you’re going to fight a hurricane, you need to intimidate it right out of the gate.

I also once had my colors done at a mall in 1984 and they said I was a “winter” which means that I look good in bright, non-pastel colors. And obviously anything I learned in the eighties still holds true.

Does Jessie still gotta himself a girl? Check.

Are Rubik cubes still impossible? Check.

Do shoulder pads still make you look 3 inches taller and rock an outfit? Check.

Am I still a winter? You know it.

Rick wanted me to wear this shirt instead…

selfie in plaid shirt

He though my red shirt was too fancy for talking about hurricanes.

I don’t know what that means. I just stared at him the way I would if someone told me that Dylan and Kelly weren’t soul mates on 90210.

Anyway, I always heard that when it comes to crazy, powerful weather, the fancier the outfit the better. (I still regret being in sweatpants when 12 feet of water filled our house during hurricane Irene.)

Honestly, I think Rick was just trying to get back at me because I once told him before we went out one night that he was wearing “day” jeans, not “night” jeans and he’s been plotting his revenge ever since.

Anyway… I wore red.

hurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revisedhurricane shoot revised

And I asked for a Barbara Walters’ lense, so I could look more like Rick’s second trophy wife – rather than his first 40-something wife.

During the shoot, we learned a lot of hurricane stuff that put us into a complete panic.

I can’t really remember most of it – but I recall one tip. You should store your insurance documents in your dishwasher because it’s an air tight place where they will be protected from the elements in a major hurricane.

So there you go. Put your documents in the dishwasher.  Just don’t turn it on.

kelcey kintner


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