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My child loves to watch Grav3YardGirl‘s Does This Thing Really Work? videos on YouTube. When he’s feeling sleepy or in need of a cuddle, he’ll climb into my lap and ask, “Mommy, can we watch a Bunny video?”

It was one of these videos that introduced us to the idea of Candylicious edible bubbles. A whole five seconds into that video, he was telling me he wanted grape flavor.

It took me a while to find them, but I tracked the bubble machine down on Amazon and even found some refill kits.

I was skeptical, even after watching Bunny’s review…But this thing is actually pretty great! We spent an hour or so blowing cherry bubbles all over the back yard, and I managed to catch a few…they actually DO taste just like cherry! O’s strategy was to stick his face right in front of the machine, and he caught a lot of bubbles, but he didn’t like getting the bubble solution all over his face.

You get two packets of bubble solution with the machine (cherry and grape), and refills are available in packs of three flavors. The packet of cherry lasted a lot longer than I thought it would, and we even got a little more mileage out of it by pouring a little water in at the end.

I’m not sure if you’re supposed to do that. Maybe don’t be like me.

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The machine takes 4 AA batteries and you’ll need a little screwdriver to get the back panel off. I picked up an eyeglass repair kit that’s super handy for these things.

I love this thing. As long as it holds up, I can see it providing hours of summer fun for my boy. In fact, I may not have to make a dessert for the rest of the summer. Dinner’s over? Go outside and play with your bubble machine!

Just don’t drink the bubble solution…I’m pretty sure it says specifically not to on the box.

You can order one of your own by clicking here. Or, just check out the different flavors and tell me which one you’d like to try!

**Disclosure: This is NOT a sponsored post. I purchased this machine and refill pack with my own money. All opinions are my own. This post contains affiliate links.**

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Well the contest went on longer than I originally intended. Apparently, my beloved Samsung Note 3 decided it was going to take a gimongous crap on me in the middle of running this contest. It was really the least opportune time for that to happen, because I also have a few other things going on that require me to be able to communicate.

The boy and I drove to the nearest Best Buy after Sprint customer care said I could upgrade early since I’d had their service for so dang long. It pays to be loyal, I guess (or just too lazy to switch carriers). We spent a hundred years waiting and chatting with a Samsung rep, and I finally decided on the Galaxy S6. Not only did I pay nothing out of pocket that day, I also walked away with a $100.00 Best Buy gift card just for upgrading. Not to shabby, I think!

If you happened to be in the same Best Buy while I was there, I was the lady with the antsy toddler that suddenly yelled, “I LIKE WINE!” for no reason. For the record, no. He has no idea what wine tastes like.

So now that I’m back in business, I can announce the winner of the e-cloth giveaway!

WinnerCongratulations to allaboutcoupons4fun! I’m sending your contact information to the lovely people at e-cloth so you can claim your prize.

Thanks to everyone that entered and shared!

**e-cloth was kind enough to provide one shower pack to me for reviewing, and one to the lucky winner of this contest. All opinions in the review are my own.**


I’m going to be honest, here. I hate cleaning. It’s not that I don’t do it, I just don’t enjoy it. I’m constantly looking for shortcuts and “hacks” (I really hate that word…) to make cleaning easier so I can go on to more fun things like playing outside with my boy.

One of my least favorite chores is cleaning the shower. I don’t know why, but I’d rather have someone dump a bucket of fire ants** over my head than stand in the shower and scrub that stupid thing. I don’t even know how it gets so dirty…

Ok, that’s not true.

The BF works outside and occasionally comes home covered in mystery stuff that I guess has to go somewhere… like, all over the walls and floor of the shower. And I shouldn’t act like he’s the only one to blame… I don’t generally get super dirty (just sweaty), but my favorite soap stains the shower walls.

In case you wondered, it’s Shea Moisture African Black Soap. I love it, and it’s been great for my skin, but somehow I manage to get it everywhere.

Needless to say, our shower needs frequent attention if it’s not going to look gross. I tried a handful of cleaning solutions I found on Pinterest, including the Dawn dish soap and vinegar one, and I wasn’t impressed at all. The store-bought cleaning solutions worked (sometimes) but they gave me an awful headache from the smell and I was always worried that O would come up behind me and grab the bottle when I wasn’t looking. Sure, I could wait until nap time, but I’ve already got a hundred and one other things crammed into that ever-shortening time slot.

When I found e-cloth, I was seriously skeptical. I was supposed to believe that this cloth was going to clean my shower (like, really clean it) with nothing but water? Uh, yeah. Next you’re going to tell me that a tomato is a fruit.***

What exactly is e-cloth? How about I let them tell you:

e-cloth’s superior microscopic texturing easily penetrates hard to remove soap scum, built up grime and water marks. Remarkably, the only cleaning companions are water, and you, so there are neither harmful chemical fumes nor any chemical residue left behind. The Shower Cloth is for thick grease and dirt. It comes with a handy grommet and power suction hook for hanging on any hard surface. The Glass & Polishing Cloth is for light cleaning and final polishing. (Not for use on electronic screens and delicate lenses.)  e-cloths really are different and give a fantastic chemical free clean with just water. If you take care of them they will last for years. e-cloths work so well that you will get a lint-free, smear-free clean with just water.

e-cloth microfiber cloths are made of millions of tiny fibers that pick up dirt which normal cloths just leave behind. When we say tiny, we mean each fiber is about 1/200th the width of a human hair. These tiny fibers attract moisture and oil, lifts and traps dirt, grease, grime and bacteria. Leaving your surface clean and polished with no chemical residue left behind. This process is healthier with no chemicals used.  There is no chance for potentially harmful fumes and residue. This is important to children, as well as allergy and asthma sufferers.

Save money by reducing the use of paper towels and chemicals.  E-cloths come with a 300 machine wash guarantee giving you years of cleaning performance and savings

The super nice folks at e-cloth sent me a shower pack to try… And even though I was still pretty skeptical, I was excited to try it out. Included in the shower pack is a shower cleaning microfiber cloth, a suction cup hook, and a glass and polishing cloth.

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I barely got the stuff out of the package before I dashed into the bathroom to try the glass cloth. Since our shower doesn’t have a glass door, I tried it on the medicine cabinet mirror…Which was covered in toothpaste splatters and toddler fingerprints. Without even getting it wet, I had the mirror completely clean and streak free in less than a minute. Say what?

The next morning, I tried the shower cloth out after my shower. Before I turned the water off, I soaked the cloth and wrung it out a bit. I then turned the water off and used the cloth to wipe down the shower walls. When I stepped out of the shower, I was pretty happy with how nice the walls looked after very little effort on my part.

I’ve been using the e-cloth for almost a month now, wiping everything down after I shower, and I’m super impressed with how great it looks. The best part? I no longer have that, “Ugh, I have to clean the shower today…” feeling.

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Now if they would only come out with a set of cloths for every room of my house.

Silly me, they totally have that already! I’ve already got a wish list a mile long now that basically includes everything on their site. I mean, they even have a line of stuff to clean your body.

Because they’re so awesome, e-cloth has offered to send one lucky reader a shower pack of their very own! Entry is pretty easy…

1. Like Willfully Disobedient on Facebook

2. Like e-cloth on Facebook

3. Come back here and leave me a comment about your least favorite chore.

Contest will close at 12:00am EST on June 22nd. Winner will be chosen at random and be notified by email.

[Due to some major technical difficulties, I’m extending the entry period until Tuesday, June 30th]

The entry period for this giveaway has closed. Check back tomorrow to find out who won. Thanks to all that entered!

Also check them out on Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, and YouTube for more info.

This contest is open to residents of the USA only. I received my e-cloth free of charge in exchange for my honest review. Post contains affiliate links.

**Please don’t really do this.

***Tomatoes totally are a fruit. Just making sure you’re awake.


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We got up early on Saturday morning and made the journey to the Big City for PBS Kids in the Park. My boy LOVES PBS shows like SuperWhy, Dinosaur Train, Daniel Tiger, and Curious George. He was beyond excited to meet the characters he watches, and he even got to have a snack and do a fun craft with Curious George. As we walked around Military Park, he would point at the different characters and yell, “HI ALPHA PIG!” and “I LOVE WORD GIRL!”

He was slightly disappointed that Word Girl didn’t bring Captain Huggy Face, though.

After we’d seen all there was to see at the PBS Kids event, we took a stroll down the canal. Indy is really a beautiful city, and in the summer I highly recommend taking a day to just walk around aimlessly.

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O even got to feed some ducks after a nice boy gave him some cereal.

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Our walk took us closer to the circle, and we remembered that Pride was also going on that day…So we decided to check it out. O was asleep in his stroller, so we took our time checking everything out. We even bought a bumper sticker!

Because it was so hot, and also because some big dummy (ahem, me) forgot to put sunscreen on, we headed to Circle Center mall because, air conditioning. O was still sound asleep, so we took advantage of the massage chairs that were sitting in the lobby. Two minutes for a dollar sounds like a hell of a bargain when you’ve been walking all day.

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I also ended up with some cool new shoes.

Once O was awake, we grabbed dinner at Rock Bottom Brewery and stopped for ice cream in a shop on Monument Circle. By the time we started making our way back to the van, it was close to 8:00.

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This also happened, and now I wish I had been holding my phone the entire time. I’m guessing we actually walked close to ten miles altogether.

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On Sunday, we ventured over to our town’s Strawberry Festival for lunch. Our first stop was to visit The BF’s grandparents, who always display their pedal tractors. While O was playing with the tractors, I decided to rest my weary legs by having a seat in his stroller. I was unable to talk The BF into pushing me around. For lunch, I had a bison burger and cheese fries topped with bison chili. Delicious! The BF had some ribs, and we both shared with O. Even though I didn’t really want to.

After lunch, we stopped at our friend’s photo booth before heading home. O thought it was great fun to wear the helmet and watch himself on the screen.

I capped off the weekend by finishing a book and having a glass of wine… Well, I tried to drink a glass of wine, but I managed to nod off before I even drank half of it.

Hashtag, old people problems.


Ok friends…Let’s consider this an intervention of sorts. I see y’all (mostly ladies, but some dudes) posting these ridiculous sayings and usually incorrectly attributed quotes that are typed over pretty pictures in equally pretty fonts…And I just don’t get it.

Some of them are pretty funny… But a lot of them just make the sharer look a bit like an asshole. Here, have some examples:

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First things first… Sorry to burst your bubble but it’s highly likely that she didn’t even say this. Okay?

Now. I’m guessing you’re probably expecting a bunch of, “Amen!” and, “Hell yeah, sista friend!” comments…and you’ll probably get them… From all of the other spoiled, whiny, entitled people you know. Pro tip: tantrums stop being excusable around the age of…four, maybe?

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…or maybe he’s just sick of your shit. If you’re posting this, I’m going to assume that you’ve probably got a handful of failed relationships under your belt. Take a second to consider the common denominator… There’s a huge difference between being strong and being an unbearable bitch.

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Nope, sorry. A truly successful woman is too busy being…you know…successful to worry about what people say or think about her. And if a lot of people are “throwing bricks” at you, maybe it’s time to re-evaluate your behavior.

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This one is spot on. All of what I’ve said is my opinion  (except the bit about the Marilyn quote being wrong)… So feel free to go on merrily hitting the share button and yelling, “UH HUH, THAT’S RIGHT!” whenever you see some pretty font on a nice background. Just know that you might not be sending the message you intend to.

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Oh, come on…this one is just funny.


Well guys, I guess it’s time to admit that I am once again out of the running for Mother of the Year. Yes, I know it’s a huge surprise, but I’ve just made too many mistakes to think anyone would nominate me.

Don’t believe me? I submit the following:

I allowed O to practically inhale an entire chocolate bunny on Easter morning. Sure, it was a smallish one, but chocolate for breakfast? That’s a mommy no-no for sure.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit A.

I have also given my child donuts, birthday cake, and cookies for breakfast. Not all the time, of course, but with enough frequency to make the Mother of the Year prize out of my reach. But come on, who doesn’t eat leftover birthday cake the day after their birthday?! Or the day after anyone’s birthday, if they send some cake home with you.

Exhibit B.  No, he didn't eat all of it...His was the chocolate piece.

Exhibit B.
No, he didn’t eat all of it…His was the chocolate piece.

And I guess, while we’re talking about food, my kid has had McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, and Arby’s. He really loves the chicken nuggets. And fries. Once again, only occasionally…But the fact that I have allowed him to consume MECHANICALLY SEPARATED CHICKEN GOO that has been deep-fried to oblivion probably booted me out of the running.

Exhibit C.  These are actually fish nuggets. Still fried, though.

Exhibit C.
These are actually fish nuggets. Still fried, though.

I also let him play with the sweeper, mostly in hopes that he will accidentally turn it on and scare the crap out of himself. I can’t help it, that’s damned hilarious.

I’ve forgotten to tell him he can get up when he’s in trouble (I refuse to call it time out), only to remember 20 minutes later.

I’ve lied and said we were out of a snack that he asked for because I really wanted to eat the last one.

I don’t let him flush the toilet eleventy billion times.

He really needed (his words) a blueberry breakfast bar but I wouldn’t let him have one because he didn’t eat his lunch.

And then…

This morning, he came in the bathroom when I was brushing my teeth. He wanted to brush his, so I picked up his toothbrush and started to put toothpaste on it.

WRONG.

He wanted to do it himself. In an attempt to avoid a tantrum, I held the toothpaste and brush out to him…But the damage had been done. He turned and ran to the living room, threw himself on a chair, and sobbed for five minutes over the injustice of it all.

“Am I the worst mommy on Earth, buddy?”

He sniffed, rubbed his eyes, and said, “Yes Mommy. I fink so.”


I’ll never forget how it felt to hear “OH, you took the easy way out!” during the first few weeks of my son’s life. He was born right smack in the beginning of the holidays (like, the week before Thanksgiving that year), and we were dealing with feeding issues. The swelling in my feet and ankles just refused to go down, I was exhausted (duh) AND recovering from a major surgery, and here we were dragging our brand-new, teeny-tiny little baby to family gatherings during cold and flu season.

In other words, the last thing I wanted to hear was that I “took the easy way out”. Not only was it said, but it was generally accompanied by a pat on the knee and a somewhat condescending wink. Sometimes that would be followed by a knowing glance the person would share with another woman.

I got to hear all kinds of stories from the women who were ‘real’ warriors. 30 hours of labor this, episiotomy that, blah, blah, blah… And of course the complaining was always capped off with a quick, “but it was all worth it” at the end. Uh, ok.

“I wish”, one woman said, “that I could have just relaxed on a table while a surgeon did all of the work!” She then laughed at her own joke. As if I had gone to some all-inclusive resort and sipped a (virgin!) daquri and had a pedicure during my c-section. Yeah, that’s how it went.

Here’s the thing. I know a lot of people think that c-sections happen purely by a ‘selfish’ choice made by the mom. That generally isn’t how it goes, though. A lot of women face c-sections for a number of reasons…Reasons, I might add, that are no one else’s business.

I actually did not have a choice. When it was confirmed that O was breech and couldn’t turn around (he was sharing a small space with a rather large tumor, after all) my doctor immediately scheduled the surgery. When I asked if there was anything else we could do, she explained how dangerous it would be to attempt to go the natural route and that she wasn’t really willing to do it. Not only was my life at risk, so was O’s. I even asked her to turn him, which she said would be ridiculously painful for me and likely totally ineffective.

Thanks to hormones and a lot of misconceptions, I felt like an absolute failure. I was so embarrassed to tell people outside of my family, and I was always quick to justify it by saying, “but I have no choice in the matter”.

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The morning of my c-section, I felt strangely calm. It was incredibly early, and the 30 minute drive to the hospital was a piece of cake…No traffic, no rushing, just the BF and I chatting calmly.

They did one last ultrasound to see if he had managed to flip… I silently prayed that he had, and asked if they would be willing to induce me if that were the case. The nurse said that might be an option, but then promptly confirmed that he was still breech. So much for a last-minute miracle.

The BF had to wait while they prepped me and got the epidural going. I don’t really remember the epidural being too terrible, but I do know that I was terrified I would move and paralyze myself. After all, that needle was pretty huge and it was going right into my spine. I was also perched rather precariously on the edge of the operating table and shivering because damn it was cold in that room. Also, probably from what ever they had in my IV. At any rate, the very first epidural attempt was successful and it took no time to work. In fact, they were instructing me to move my legs and I finally had to laugh and let them know I couldn’t, could they please help me?

Once I was situated on the table, a green curtain was erected to block my view of the lower half of my body. I remember my doctor asking if I felt something, and when I replied “What?”, she smiled and said I was ready to go. Apparently, she had pinched the inside of my thigh as hard as she could to make sure I was numb. Even though I felt nothing, I asked if she thought she should try again…She just smiled and told me everything was fine.

“Well, you’re not the one about to be cut open, you know?”

She laughed and made a big show of pinching me again, just to humor me. I was still nervous, but I hadn’t even felt her move my leg. I couldn’t stall any more.

The BF finally got to come in, all suited up, and sat on a stool next to my head. He and I stared at the green curtain while the final prep work was being done, and finally Dr. Stephenson let us know they were getting started. The BF and the anesthesiologist talked about hunting, and they passed the anesthesiologist’s phone to each other over my head to look at pictures of an elk he shot on some trip. It was all very surreal, and then I noticed smoke wafting up from behind the green curtain.

Oh yes, they cauterize your incision as they cut.

I felt absolutely nothing, and I was surprisingly calm. I thought, “this might really be a piece of cake”. There was a lot of chatting, mostly the BF because he can be a bit of a nervous talker. Then, the six-foot-tall, 185-ish pound doctor that was assisting said, “Ok, you aren’t going to like me much after this part.”

Then he leaned on the left side of my stomach with what had to have been his entire body weight. I’ll admit, I did panic a bit when I suddenly couldn’t breathe and thought  he was going to break my ribs. I made this ridiculous “OOF” sound as every bit of oxygen I had in my body was forced out, and then I realized that he was grunting a bit as well from all of the force he was putting into it. You see, a baby is definitely bigger than the incision they make, and it’s not like they come out easily. No, there’s a lot of pulling from the operating doctor and a TON of pushing from the assisting doctor. That part sucked and I hated every second of it. My whole body was rocking from the force he was using, and I swore I was about to fall off of the table. There is actually nothing especially gentle about a c-section, and the “piece of cake” thoughts I was having ended rather abruptly the second they started actually working on getting O out.

Obviously, I didn’t fall off of the table, and obviously, this was how they had to do it. I knew that, but I still didn’t like it.

Once they got him out, they brought him over so I could see him, then he was taken to be cleaned up and weighed. BF got to go over and watch, and on the way back to his seat I saw his eyes get wide. He told me later that when he turned around, he saw my guts all sitting on my stomach just waiting to be put back in my body. And blood. Like, a lot of blood.

Yeah, another fun thing. They have to pull your ab muscles apart like curtains and remove the organs that are in front of your uterus to get the baby out. Easy way out my ass.

So I did cry a little tear, but then I started to feel very weird. Everything sounded like it was in a tunnel, my vision was starting to blur, and I felt a bit nauseated. I tried a couple of times to tell someone before I finally managed to get the words out…If you’ve ever had one of those dreams when you’re trying to scream and just can’t, that’s exactly how I felt. The anesthesiologist said that was totally normal, pushed something into my IV, and within seconds I was fine again.

I don’t remember a lot about being wheeled back to my room, or holding my boy for the first time. We had to wait an hour before my parents could come in, and I do remember asking the BF to take a picture of me holding O. I look a little confused, maybe a little tired, but I don’t exactly look excited. Then again, I was mid-sentence when he took the picture so that could be part of it.

I was told I’d have to stay in my bed for the remainder of the day, probably, because even after the numbing wore off I wouldn’t be able to comfortably get in and out of bed to pee. I thought that was pretty stupid, and as soon as I could feel my legs I asked my nurse to let me try to get up. She laughed, but then relented and started moving blankets and getting my catheter ready. The look on her face when I successfully stood up and started shuffling around the room was priceless, and she was still shaking her head as she took me in the bathroom to take out my catheter.

That part, by the way, doesn’t suck at all. It’s just a little pop! and it’s gone. Pretty painless.

The time I spent in the hospital was great. Nurses were coming in to take a look at O because word had gotten around that he had a ridiculous head of dark hair. We had a few visitors, but nothing too crazy. The BF went out to get us ice cream and brought Blizzards to all of the nurses. I was kind of sad when they told me we were released.

The recovery sucked. I wasn’t in a ton of pain, but I there were definitely times when I was reminded I had been cut open. I also had some gas bubbles that seriously felt like they were ripping my stomach open. Coughing, laughing, sneezing, sudden movements…all were painful, even if I had just taken pain meds. I wasn’t allowed to pick up anything heavier than my baby. Do you know what’s heavier than an eight-pound baby boy? Damn near everything. I couldn’t drive, I had some trouble getting in and out of chairs by myself, and pooping was absolutely terrifying. I don’t know that it’s possible to overdose on stool softeners, but I’ll bet I came close.

TMI? Sorry.

Then there’s the stuff that happens no matter how you get the baby out. Nothing is worse than talking to your best friend when you suddenly pass the mother of all blood clots and have to quickly shuffle to the bathroom before it falls out of your diaper. Because, yes, you are basically stuck wearing diapers for a few weeks.

Oh yeah, that’s definitely TMI.

There’s also the long-term stuff that you never hear about. My ab muscles separated, so here I am over two years post-baby and they’re finally coming back together (it’s taken some work, I’ll tell ya). I also have weird sensations from the scar tissue (that’s also from my second surgery) that feel a lot like something moving around in there. I can’t feel the area around my scar…except when it itches. Then I can feel the itch, but I could attack it with a cheese grater and feel no relief. That’s a blast and a half.

So, over two years removed from my sweet boy’s c-section arrival, do I still feel like a failure?

Nope. Not even a little bit.

I realized at some point that, as long as your child is healthy it doesn’t matter how you got him or her here. Having a c-section was the very first thing I did as a mother to ensure my boy’s safety. It wasn’t fun, but if I could do it over again I totally would.

And yes, I have a gnarly scar to show for it. I have actually come to love my scar for what it represents.

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Photo courtesy of Portraits by Natalie, because it’s surprisingly difficult to take a photo of your own scar. http://portraitsbynataliegomez.com/

After all, if my kid ever asks where he came from, I can show him my scar. Certainly can’t do that if you squeezed yours out the old fashioned way, can you?

Good God, I’d hope not.

Did you have a c-section? How did it go?

Happy Cesarean Awareness Month!



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