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Kid Kwotes

Kid Kwotes


I peeled an orange for my son, Braden and put it on a plate for him on the kitchen table while he was on the couch watching TV. Then I told him, “Braden, there is an orange here with your name on it.” He got up off the couch very enthusiastically, and ran over to the table where the orange was. After a moment of looking very confused, he looked up and asked, “where is my name?”

Is your kid hilarious? Share your funny stories and kid quotes here. We will be choosing the ones that make us laugh the hardest and posting them on our newsletter. The next one may be yours!!

Virus Alert!! Trojan:Win32/FakeVimes

Wow. The reason I am writing about this because I hope that someone else will be saved by my very frightening experience. I am not exactly a computer pro and could have easily fallen for this just as anyone could, so please just read this and educate yourself about it. Maybe it will save you!
This Trojan:Win32/FakeVimes is actually a VIRUS imitating a VIRUS, so that you will purchase fake software- that would ultimately get into your computer and steal private information. It has a horrible noise a long with the pop ups- super scary- telling you that someone is currently “in” your computer and if you don’t hurry up and purchase, it will be too late.
The good news is that I didn’t get infected… I almost did…but something told me too look into the situation further before I went in complete panic mode. I am super grateful.
So, I was just doing an innocent google search when all of a sudden a bright red warning popped up on my computer telling me that I was horribly infected. The computer automatically started running (what seemed to be) a legitimate scan of Windows Defender…which resulted in 22 threats. This just scared the twinkies right out of me. But whats even more frightening was that I wasn’t able to continue on with any of my work. The warnings just kept popping up, sort of freezing my computer and telling me that if I continued, my entire system would be taken over by a hacker. Little did I know that these 22 threats were really just lies being told to me by one REAL THREAT… The Trojan:Win32/FakeVimes Virus…which apparently comes from – are you ready? – surfing the internet. Pretty Scary, huh?

The way I figured it out was this:
I logged off the internet…I figured no one could steal info as long as there was no connection. I don’t even know if that is true, but it made sense in my mind. It seemed to be the thing that saved me. As soon as I logged off, the warnings stopped.
Then I went into the control panel and ran my *real* windows defender. It took a much longer time to scan, and for the most part showed up clean. That is when I got my first clue that the others scans were not legitimate.
Ahhh, but the scan wasn’t 100% clean. There was one threat found- the real culprit- the trojan threat. So, only 1 threat as opposed to 22 that the virus was impersonating. Also, my *real* windows defender allowed me to clean and remove it right away (labeling it as “quarantined”) and I did not have to purchase anything new.
I then went to the Microsoft site to read more about it. Here is the link: http://www.microsoft.com/security/portal/Threat/Encyclopedia/Entry.aspx?name=Trojan%3aWin32%2fFakeVimes&threatid=4295108636
That is where it showed examples of the exact fake warning that were popping up telling me to purchase the software (which I admit, I actually considered for a mere moment!)
Phew!! Just wanted to share, incase this happened to you. If it has not…perhaps this blog will help you avoid it.

Motherhood: Perfect Cure for Avoiding the Gym.

Written by Ally Loprete

If you are anything like me, and I doubt it because most people tend to disagree with me on the subject, then you hate working out, too.
In the 35 years that I have been alive, I confess, I hated the task until about 3 months ago. Hated it with a capital H. I would have preferred to swallow glass. Probably the biggest reason I kept my distance from the gym is because I don’t like to sweat. If I didn’t sweat, I could get away with not showering for a few days- and because I have horribly frizzy curly hair that needs to be straightened (no, wearing it curly is just NOT an option for me, don’t even go there), I didn’t have the patience for sweating and thus, I hated working out.
But that is not all. I didn’t understand people who pretended to love it…seriously, I was convinced that they were all just liars. The few times in my life that I did attempt to get physical by joining a gym, I found myself counting the seconds before I would allow myself to stop. I could barely last 5 minutes. Climbing up stairs, riding a stationary bike, or on a fancy shmancy elliptical machine… how in the world did anyone find this fun? It was mundane, it made me lose my breath, it made me sore the next day, and I never really saw a loss in weight. It only seemed to increase my appetite and therefore resulted in a weight GAIN.
People actually liked this? I didn’t believe it. I had talked to a few people who told me about the “runners high” from an apparent release of endorphins. Never happened for me, and I admit that I began to wonder if it was all a myth, or perhaps they’d all drank the same Koolade of which I had yet to get my hands on.
But, I am here to tell you that in a strange turn of eventsd, my feelings for the gym have recently changed. No, there was no Koolade, and I did not recently discover some magical berry drink from the depths of the rainforest. The cure for hating the gym? MOTHERHOOD.
I am a proud mamma of two precious little boys: a toddler and an infant. As much as I truly appreciate that I have the opportunity to stay at home with my children, it wasn’t until the second one came that I realized how rare a commodity a nice hot shower was. If I ever found myself able to take one, say after dropping the 3 year old off at pre-school, and perhaps getting the baby to fall asleep, it usually ended up with the baby screaming in mid-shower and me rushing to get the shampoo out of my eyes all the while yelling out to the crying baby- “I know you need your binky, sweetheart. Mommy will be right there!” Think I was going to find a moment to blow dry and straighten my hair then? Forget it.
It wasn’t until I got myself a gym membership, which included child care for a mere $10 more a month per child, that I discovered the silver lining. If I actually worked out a few times a week- I could reward myself with a nice long hot shower, and maybe even have some extra time to pamper myself with a blowdryer and some make-up! Now THAT was worth going to the gym for.
But there were more great discoveries for me just around the corner. I had 2 hours all to myself at the gym- so by gosh, I was going to make the best use of this time. As a mother of 2, time to myself almost seemed like a lost cause up until now. This next little discovery is probably going to make most of you go, “well, duh!” but for me it was like unlocking the secret code to life, happiness, and those mysterious endorphins. Are you ready? Music.
I know, simple, right? But I never actually tried working out to music before.
I love music, and who doesn’t? I had even gone as far as studying it in college. As a singer and a pianist, I had a great love for all types of music and theory. But since becoming a mom, the only music that graced my home and my car was to the tune of “the wheels on the bus go round and round…”
Now with my new found 2 hours of “me time” I was going to allow myself to listen to music that I wanted to hear- anything I felt like! I had forgotten what magical powers music had! Completely behind in the trends, I finally figured out how to download songs to my blackberry. I invested in some itunes, put on my head phones and traveled into another dimension. I was filled with such bliss in my escape, that I almost didn’t realize I had been on the stairmaster for an entire 40 minutes sweating up a storm- and actually enjoying it. Yes, the girl who didn’t believe in working out was converted. Instead of dreading the minutes in which I huffed and puffed, I began watching the clock to see how long I had to stay in my happy place before hitting the shower.
I can honestly say with true commitment, that for the first time in my life…I have become one of THOSE people. You know, the freaks who actually enjoy going to the gym. Oh yeah, and that stubborn baby weight is finally starting to come off. It’s a nice little added bonus.

I went to the grocery store with an infant and a toddler ALONE…AND I survived.

I was determined. To heal quickly from my cesarean.
To conquer the idea that I now had TWO kids rather than 1.
To get out of the house.
To prove to myself that although I don’t have family nearby, or neighbors to help out, I was completely capable.
I had been told by several of my friends not to even try it- it couldn’t be done. But I didn’t listen.

A friend of mine suggested that I order the groceries online to be delivered to my home. Another one suggested that I wait until my husband came home from work. I had considered waiting until the toddler had preschool and then take only the infant to the store. All good options, but I had issues with each one: I didn’t want to pay the delivery fee, my husband was working late, and my toddler only had preschool twice a week.
The refrigerator was empty, and so was the pantry.
I had no choice but to attempt this intricate task…today.
It started off fine, believe it or not. As I walked the aisles in the store, I remember thinking, “Hey! This is easy. I can accomplish this!” Of course it was very premature. I was worried that my toddler would take issue with walking NEXT to the grocery basket as opposed to being IN it, since the infant had now taken the prime and ONLY seat available, but actually he seemed to be proud at his new role as the big brother. I was especially grateful that the toddler did not disappear and then attempt to leave the store as he had done several months earlier, at a time when I was pregnant and too handicapped to be able to chase after him.
I confess that I had bribed the toddler with a box of cookies, so he was in fact behaving himself.
The first hitch began when I got to the car and realized that with the double stroller, the diaper bag, and BOTH car seats taking up the entire back seat, I had very little room for groceries.
I made a mental note to bring up the issue of purchasing a bigger vehicle to my husband that evening, which would prove to be a waste of my energy. I would later post my frustration on face book.
Somehow, I managed to squeeze the groceries into the unreasonably small trunk space of the Toyota Rav 4, and slam the door before anything could fall out, knowing full well that opening it again would create a new challenge. I opted not to be concerned for the moment, as I had other tasks to complete. I would cross that bridge soon enough.
Got the kids in their car-seats. First the toddler, then the infant- so as not to have the toddler running in the street and stopping traffic while belting in the infant. Drove home. Okay.
Now HERE is where the real chaos began. By the time I had pulled up to the house, my car at become a chamber of hissy fits, tears and pandemonium.
It was at this point that I realized I had a real dilemma of which action to take first. The infant needed me to nurse him, the toddler wanted his cucumber sandwich with the crusts cut off and a side of apple slices, I hadn’t eaten yet- which was an important task to accomplish before I attempted to nurse, and the groceries were melting in the car.
Plus, I had to pee. Badly. And to those ladies out there who have also been pregnant, you can attest to the fact that it takes several months before one’s bladder is even close to recovering from the trauma.
But this? This was like Sophie’s choice.
What to do first…
Feed the Toddler?
Feed the Infant?
Feed myself?
Save the melting groceries?
Save my bladder?

To be honest, I don’t remember how it went. But the important thing is that it all worked out… because, well, here we are.
As I write this, my well-fed boys are napping (another miracle in itself!), my bladder has been emptied, and the groceries have been put away. Somehow I survived, and I am now able to chalk this up to another lesson learned about how I need not over-extend myself and to know my limitations as a mother.
From now on, I shop when the toddler is at preschool, or my husband is home from work. If I get desperate, I will sit down at the computer and type my grocery list into the virtual shopping cart. If I get REALLY desperate, I will take the boys out to eat.
Now, onto the next task: How to convince my husband that we need a minivan.

Please Forgive the Pregnancy Brain

Please Forgive the Pregnancy Brain

Written by Ally Loprete

I don’t know how many more times I will be able to get away with the excuse that I am pregnant every time I have a brain fart. Seriously, my brain seems to be functioning less and less the larger the baby in my belly grows. Does the bloat travel upward to our heads as well? I am a bit of ditz, anyway- as my closest friends will tell you. And it’s not for lack of trying, or lack of caring. In fact, I used to be quite sensitive to the blond hair on my head until I met my husband and he helped me learn to laugh at my malapropisms and idiosyncrasies. There. A perfect example of how I mix metaphors and folk lore.
It’s times like these that I notice the difference in the patience level among my friends who parents like me, and those that are not. Not that I blame them, as I know I had less patience before I became a parent. It’s not that I was an insensitive person, but looking back, I see how easy it was to be judgmental. If we witnessed children acting up in a restaurant, for example, my husband and I would whisper to each other that when we have kids, we would make sure that they would behave much better that that. We’d nit-pick at the parents who were obviously are not giving their children the correct attention or discipline. Looking back at that time and that old me, I want to reach back into the past and smack my face. How dare I? The truth is, I barely recognize the person that I was before I had children and perhaps those unsympathetic notions are punishing me today with a very active toddler, often difficult to control in public places.
I used to be embarrassed by loud childhood behavior and public temper tantrums- especially the ones where my son would lay down in a high traffic area out of protest for not wanting me to hold his hand and force him to go in MY direction rather than his own. After nearly a year of this, I stopped apologizing to the disapproving strangers while they stepped over the obviously “poor parented” child on the ground, and stopped caring altogether what they must think of me.
But back to me and the air in my brain.
It’s gotten significantly worse upon becoming a parent, beginning with my first pregnancy. The term is called Pregnancy Brain: a lapse in awareness because of the fatigue that comes with creating a child and the big belly that causes a disruption in balance resulting in complete and total clumbsiness. Once the baby is born, the brain then transforms to Mommy Brain: a lapse in awareness resulting from sleepless nights and lack of adult interaction during the work week.
Of course, just as my toddler began sleeping through the night and I began to meet other numbed brained parents with whom I might commiserate did I rediscover all that lost energy returning. Of course, I became pregnant again soon after. Hello, pregnancy brain, can’t say that I missed you, but welcome back.
It’s no easier the second time around, either. The only difference is that I have stopped apologizing for it, and I’ve accepted it as part of the 9 month cycle. This is not to say that I don’t use the Pregnancy Brain explanation on a daily basis. The thing that I’ve noticed is that I don’t even need to give the explanation to my parent friends. They just nod in empathy when I’ve forgotten something obviously simple, like …oh…my own son’s name, or the year we are living in, or how to write a proper sentence. They get it…because they’ve either been there, or they are there with me now and didn’t even notice.
Yet, for all my non-parent friends, who I love as much as I ever did, for whom I find myself envying now and again for the motor in their minds that is still operating at full functionality- I forgive you for not quite understanding, but appreciate your acceptance, nonetheless. It would appear that parenthood kills more brain cells than the occasional kegger.