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  • When it comes to kids clothes, it can be hard to assemble a polished look that can withstand a youngster's energy. But if there's anyone who knows how to merge fashion and utility, it's style photographer and blogger Scott Schuman.

  • Photos via

    If you need help trying to forget the Jerri Blank years (but why would you?), you might want grab a copy of Simple Times: Crafts for Poor People by Amy Sedaris. Even though cracking open this book of activities is like opening a door to a haunted dollhouse, there's no denying the charm in her well, quirky outfits.

    A peculiar mix between a 1960's kindergarten teacher and an overzealous but failing Stepford wife, the retro patterns and exaggerated cuts actually make for sweet play clothes. If you've got a funny girl in the family, check out this DIY ensemble.

  • Having a baby is not easy, but having a baby in a sitcom seems like a gauntlet of slap-stickery. There are so many moments primed for canned laughter timed with delightful story clichés.

    Think you’re ready to head to the hospital? Here are the six guidelines from our sitcom playbook outlining how to properly deliver your precious new plot point.

  • Not knowing is the worst. As someone who is brand new to this whole ‘creating life’ business, I have found that pregnancy is not all baby-showers and name books. Yes there was that initial burst of unbelievable excitement (“I did WHAT?”) but then, as the reality sets in, there is a lot of waiting. A lot.

    This is not necessarily a bad thing. In our age of instantaneous gratification, there is something to be said for waiting for something, especially when that something is going to be the light of your life.

    So we wait. Like many other parents-to-be we go through the ups and downs together. I’ve learned quickly that crackers and ginger ale are no longer just food items, but essential medicine to have on-hand at all times. I’ve learned that there are going to be nights where my wife will be awake from four to six, and other days where she will want to go to bed around 7pm. After having taken a nap.

  • This is a time of year for resolutions. We all know the drill: pause, reflect, think ahead, resolve. The unspoken final step in this whole process doesn’t really pop up until after the new year has passed, after all the parties are done, after all of that the joy, love, and optimism have faded into slush and deadlines. That’s when the last resolution step finally kicks in: you forget.

    That’s not to say all resolutions are left behind. In 2008 I had one clear resolution that I staggeringly proclaimed to everyone who would listen on new years eve. I boldly pronounced: “This will be the year that I get married”. Three days into the year I crossed that one off the list. Emboldened by my resounding success, my resolution for 2009 was a little more risqué. I laughed at Fortune’s fickle face as I described my surely soon-to-happen triumph, “This will be the year that I get my first novel published”. Three years later, I’m about to renew that resolution once again.

    That's not a big deal; new year’s resolutions come and go. But what if it’s not a new year that you are starting? What if it is a new life?

    In October of this year my partner informed me that we had done just that. The two of us had created a new life.

  • A Death Star, drawn by my five year old.

    As a parent, there are many days when things go very badly, days when you feel you are not cut out for raising cats, let alone tiny humans. But then some days you beam with pride knowing you got it right. My five-year-old twin sons are nice to each other (unless a dispute over Matchbox cars arises). They try new foods (unless they look icky). They always let me finish my requests before they ignore them. And now, now they are learning to be good geeks.

    It all started so simply. My husband and I were minding our own business playing Angry Birds on our iPads. Our sons, future geeks that they are, were instantly attracted to the buttons, sounds, and pictures. It was as if they were born to understand a touch screen. And oh how we laughed at those silly piggies and crazy birds. The sound of wood crashing and wingless birds smashing was the sound of family time. As each new iteration became available, we had one more carrot to dangle in front of our future nerds.

    And then it happened. Angry Birds Star Wars was released. The boys had already taken to Angry Birds Space like, well, like geeks to video games. We had been having some fabulous discussions about space travel and planets. We even watched the NASA video demonstrating how the birds would move in space. We had implanted an idea. Space = cool.

    I figured they would just see the Star Wars game as another space mission, but I underestimated the nerd blood that pulses through their veins. As soon as the title cards scrolled on the screen in that familiar pattern, they instinctively knew this was something special. We had made space even better. The birds had names. The planets were different and wonderful. There was a story that Mommy and Daddy told with each new discovery.

    And now, here we are; we have two boys who spend their free time at school drawing the Death Star and Tie Fighters. To say I'm proud would be an understatement.

    Having successfully indoctrinated the boys into one of our geek loves, we know we can add others. You can too; here's how.

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