We Wuv the Wubble Bubble

Ok, I have the best life.

I say this with the full-on knowledge that some mommas might be reading this while they are buried under a pile of dirty (choose one!): diapers/children/dishes/housing/pets , and thus are not really feeling how I started this blog.

Ok, let’s face it, you don’t have to choose one. I know it. You’re buried under all five of those things, aren’t you? I feel you, momma.

But TODAY, I do have the best life. LET ME TELL YOU WHY:



Backstory: It’s Spring Break, or, as many mothers refer to it:


…and just the other day, these lovely little squishy things arrived. Every once in a while, as mom blogger, I get weird squishy things in the mail, and I get to review them, and it’s like SQUISHY CHRISTMAS ALL OVER THE PLACE.



I’m telling you. These saved Spring Break.


Look at the wonderment on his face, people. MY PRESHUS.

And also: these Wubble Fulla things? They’re… kind of addictive. But in a good way. I mean, I’m not the kind of person to steal toys from my children, but it’s just possible the husband came home to me, sitting with my own personal Wubble in the kitchen, just squooshing away with a somewhat dreamy expression on my face.

(I get stressed, people. I take my relaxation where I can get it.)

Wubble Fulla is the newest addition to a Wubble family of products that includes Super Wubble, Tiny Wubble, Super Wubble Brite (a light-up Wubble for playing in the dark), Wubble X (a helium-filled “anti-gravity” ball that can hover in mid-air) and Water Wubble (refillable water balloon balls that splash, but don’t pop).

The new ball comes in three super squooshy sizes: Huge (5″), Big (4″) or Tiny (just under 2 ½”)! Each size comes stuffed with either slime or Magic Marbles – colorful and squishy round balls made of a super-absorbent polymer that absorbs water. Whichever you choose, once you pick up Wubble Fulla, you won’t want to put it down!

Here’s a link to the very professional and cool Wubble Fulla commercial:

(But, wait! There’s more!! If you look a bit further down the post, you’ll also get to view Momsie’s very amateur, with sketchy production values video of her kid and his Wubble. And who wouldn’t want to see that? IT’S IN SLO-MO, PEOPLE.)

Like to know more? Want to order one or find them in stores? Go to: http://wubbleball.com 


Ours has no soundtrack, just the creepy moo-ing sounds of me laughing in slow motion. I’m sorry. I’m no George Lucas.



When Life Hands You Lemons, Make Sure to Buy a Yacht and Have Some Babies.


Nobody looks this happy when they just had twins and an appendectomy in two rolls.


“Mom? Do you want to get married, like RIGHT away, or later?”

“Mom? How many babies should I have?”

“Mom? Would you get a baby OR a promotion? Which?”

I don’t know kid. I’ve asked these questions so many times…

Also: “Mom, would you get a sports car, or twins?”

I’ve asked that one too. Along with:

“When the babies come, do we need to make more money?”

“I have a baby girl! Should I have more?”

And this zinger:

“I just got a mansion and a wife, so do I buy a yacht or a sports car too?”


My kids are obsessed with Life. The game, not the actual breathing thing. They play it for HOURS on our living room floor, and I do my walking-over-them Mom thing with my usual laundry baskets and cleaning supplies. I have even vacuumed around their game and usually the vacuum makes them all nervous and they bark at it, but no one twitched.

Ok, wait. No barking, but you know what I mean. They hate our vacuum. It’s like the one in Mr. Mom only it hasn’t eaten anybody’s Wubbee. Yet.

I guess my point here is that this game is going to save us all before school starts. Even though it generates some really weirdo questions from a seven-year-old.

“Mom, do I get a wife NOW or try sky-diving? Which one is better?”

It’s moments like these that the Snark just quivers and practically begs to be released – free to run at full tilt at my children and take them out at the knees. But no, I quelled the beast, and answered,

“Marriage is better. But only if you really love her. And I would wait until you are good and ready. So, you know, like, your late thirties. Early forties. And, make sure you find her at church and go to like fifty or sixty bible studies together first. Also, YOU CAN ONLY HOLD HANDS THAT’S IT UNTIL YOU’RE MARRIED OK?”

The ask-ee was just staring at me, blinking a lot, when I took a breath. I was fully prepared to go onto my discussion of the pros and cons of an arranged marriage with our friends’ kids, easy-peasy, when he asked,

“Um, didn’t daddy go sky-diving? Back in college? Like, 18 times?”

I took a breath. The arranged marriage discussion would have to wait.

“Yes, kid. Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”

Later, I was explaining all of this to the husband, because all we talk about are The Children.

“I don’t really think the game of Life is actually teaching our kids anything about life, you know, in reality.” I said. You see, I’m very into making sure our children are always playing Educational Games that help Prepare them for the Real World so they can become Positive Contributors to Society.

And then the husband snorted. He knew the previous paragraph was hooey. “Yea right. Like Uno is helping them become better at flip flopping. And so, politics.”

“Or Monopoly teaches them about weird real estate options. And jail.”

“Or Battleship trains them for the military. Or drowning.”

I eyed him. His snark was so weak in comparison to mine. But he was trying. It was kind of cute. Except for the last one. That’s depressing.

Bless his heart.




The kids go back to school in a week and three days. Not that I’m counting.

I am really good at counting though. Played a lot of Yahtzee as a kid.


This post was brought to you by:

Not enough caffeine, a ridiculous lack of focus, and a strong love for my children but Lord have mercy if you don’t hear from me again you’ll know they’ve gone feral.



E is for Economics. Thank your lucky stars it’s not for Explosive Diarrhea*


LOOK! This E has BLING! Alas, the only bling my life now is in the form of glitter glue.

So, I called a business meeting the other day, just me, the wee Blonde and Red.  We convened in the conference room after I scraped its floor and made sure the Cheerios from earlier were not within throwing distance.  I passed out sippy cups and a few Goldfish crackers.


I need some suspenders. They would listen if I had suspenders. I just know it.

“Okkaaaaaay. I called you both in here today to just briefly touch BASE and make sure we were all on the same PAGE, so to speak, mmmm kay?  And when it comes to our annual BUDGETING for the year…   It seems we might be running a bit over our prediction scenarios, and so…”**

“He has more Goldfish than me.  I wanna more Goldfish!”

“Sure, just a minute, let me just get my flipchart here loaded up.  My powerpoint seems to be running a little bit slow…”

“Coputer?  Can we playa game?  I WANNA DA PIGGY GAME! ”


“NO. We arent’ playing da, ahem, the piggy game.  This is important.  Swine have no part in this.  I don’t think.  So, ahem!  It has come to my attention that our monthly revenue does not in any way coincide with our losses and – ”

“Piggy game has music in it. And CROCADIWILS.”

“OUR LOSSES.  It is imperative that we press on towards our goal of saving about (shuffling of papers)  about…. oh here it is , wow.  We are on target to try and save about 2 dollars and 47 cents a month.  Good gracious.  That’s just awful.  Wow.”

“But HEY!  Here’s the Powerpoint!!  Let’s press forward!   And it’s got MUSIC!  Look!  Look here!  Music?  Today’s presentation is entitled:  SAVING YOUR DOLLARS ONE TODDLER AT A TIME!  or:

Capitalism is afoot in DA HOUWWWWWSSS!”   (Note the eye catching display of color.)

Eye rolls.  From toddlers.  Deadly.

Blonde pipes up:  “Ima gonna get money.”

“OH!  Good!  Are you going to help save us?  I mean, us save?  Money?  Please?  ‘Cause the threat of college is looming ya’ll.  We need to get On Board and Start Being Responsible.  Starting, like, now.”

<crickets chirping> Deafening silence.

“I, yes, mommah, I think I need some money.”

“Yessir!  Shall we set up a fiscal plan for each of you and get a spreadsheet going?  ‘Cause I just figured out how to use this really cute little program that makes some awesome printables about savings.  See!  Cute clip art with a piggy bank! I found it on Pinterest!”


Banks – to SAVE…”


“Ah hah!  Learning moment!  NEEDING and WANTING are two different things, sir.  We’ve discussed this in previous meetings…”

“No.  I NEED computer games.  I WANT to play them.  Der.”

“Ok, I can see we are getting a bit off track here.  Let’s just go to slide five on this powerpoint – ”

“Der are no piggies der.  Can I have some grapes?”

“No.  This meeting is not catered.  Stick with your water and crackers. Have you been to a store lately?  WE CAN’T AFFORD FRUIT ANYMORE.   Here.  Here’s some paper.  Draw pictures of fruit. ”

“Just… pictures?”

“It’s called delayed gratification, kid.  Embrace it.”

“A store!  Where da donuts are?  The donut store?  WE’RE GONNA GET DONUTS!!  WHOO HOOOO!!!!”

The CEO is glaring:  “- Er, our bills are mainly piling up because of inflation and, well, milk alone is like a crackamillion dollars a gallon now, and don’t even get me started on trying to keep ya’ll in Pull-ups at night.  In fact, NO MORE Pull ups, gentlemen.  It’s time to bite the bullet and pee for free in the toilet like everyone else.”

Blonde one starts braying, which startles the CEO a bit.  “She said ‘pee!'” and then he dissolves into more donkey-like laughter.

Red: “Whadda we gonna bite?  NO BITE!”

“FOCUS, gentlemen.  The bills, outlined for you on slides four and five are here. And Here.   And HERE.  As you can see, our spending these past few months has been EGREGIOUS and – ”

“Jesus?  He spenda the money?”

“No, I -”

“But, Jesus SAVES!”

“Well, yes, but – ”

“We just need to ask Jesus to save da bills!  He will do it.  He loves us!”

“I do agree He loves us, but the bills – ”

“What is bills, mommah?”

“Bills are small pieces of paper that Momsie sends back to companies with our life’s blood and savings written on them.  And everytime I put them in the mailbox to be sent away a little piece inside of me shrivels up and wants to cry.”

“Oh.  Ok.”

“Can I have some grapes now, pleeeese?”

“PWEEEEEZ??  Da organwic ones dat cost, like a crackajack dollars?  Der in da fridge.  Top shelp.”


They practice this look in front of the mirror.

Sigh.  “Sure…Meeting adjourned.”

*  By the way, explosive diarrhea is not an urban legend.  It exists.  And it makes house calls.

** I have no freaking clue what I’m talking about here.