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Our 2007-2008 winners are:

Michelle Simms - 8/4/2008
Jamie Starr - 7/28/2008
Annie Lawson - 7/28/2008
Jennifer Lambert - 7/7/2008
Lauren Shaw - 6/23/2008
Sharon DeVellis - 6/9/2008
Jenna Kagan - 5/26/2008
Kristina Jackson - 5/12/2008
Sue Wagner - 4/28/2008
Rebecca Bailey - 4/14/2008
Marlena Braun - 3/31/2008
Ronique Turner-Winston - 3/17/2008
Alexis Allsman - 3/3/2008
Shelley Baty - 2/18/2008
Jenny Ingram - 2/4/2008
Karen Vogel - 1/21/2008
Deborah Gardner - 1/7/2008
Leandra Livesay - 12/24/2007
Marlena Braun - 12/10/2007
Whitney Cofer - 11/26/2007
Virginia Scruton - 11/12/2007
Daisy Wilson - 10/29/2007
Kellie Pease - 10/15/2007
Trisha Harrer - 9/30/2007
Shirley Carlisle - 9/9/2007
Annette Dixon - 8/19/2007
Carrie Brink - 7/29/2007
Cindy Copple - 6/24/2007
Jennifer Divito - 5/27/2007
Rebecca Horvath - 5/13/2007
Kim Patterson - 4/29/2007
Ashley Wiswell - 4/8/2007
Brooke Vossler - 3/25/2007
Kristine Watson - 3/4/2007
Rebecca Mauk - 2/18/2007
Stephanie Savoie - 2/4/2007
Meredith Craig - 1/21/2007
Sharonda Penn - 1/7/2007


Michelle Simms of Southlake, Texas

I wish I will always remember the Pull-Ups.

Michelle is our latest winner of the Housewife Awards® because of her Cucumber Blunder.

Michelle and husband thought it would be tons of fun to go to the local natural foods market for a deli dinner. Perpetually late, Michelle rushed her two year old into the car to meet Daddy at the market, where they perused the mysterious organic and vegetarian delicacies in the deli case. Meanwhile her daughter checked out the rare and exotic vegetables in the produce stands next to Mommy and Daddy.

From a side glance, Michelle witnessed her toddler's perplexed expression and her chubby hand reaching for an unusually bright green cucumber. Luckily, Michelle grabbed her daughter's hand just before she picked up what she soon realized was a piece of poop -- canine, she assumed.

So, Michelle marched over to the nearby store manager and ranted about the dangers of e-coli and wondered how such a fine establishment could allow an untrained dog to roam free, depositing waste in the middle of a food market.

While she's chewing out the manager, Michelle spots out of the corner of her eye two produce clerks bent over laughing. She gulped and looked over at her husband who was giving her the "Ooh no you didn't!' look as he pulled back the waistband of their toddler's jeans to reveal that Michelle had completely forgotten to put her in a Pull-up! Says Michelle: "Sure enough, there was a slithery trail down her leg and on her shoe, further proving she was the only pooper, no canine in sight!"

And the bright green super cucumber color? Michelle realized that the bright blue frosted cookie her Uncle Greg had given her the night before turned her fecal matter a flourescent green. Butt, er, but, Michelle asks, "How was I to know something so big could come out of my daughter's bottom - I had only seen it smooshed into a diaper before this!" And hopefully, ever since.

You're a good mom, Michelle. You win a line of clinically tested cosmeceutical treatment products with proven results from Sera Anti Aging and a copy of Charla Krupp's "How Not to Look Old," plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.


[Warning: A whole lotta poop ahead]

Annie Lawson of Tuscaloosa, Alabama

Got your keys, Annie?

Annie is our latest winner of the Housewife Awards® because of her No S*#), Sure Lock Moment.

Annie was three blocks from home when her son blurted, "I gotta go poo!" Annie told him to hold on. They'd be home in a few minutes. Oh, but it wasn't just poo. It was the kind of stuff songs have been written about where children make farting noises between verses.

With the car in high gear, Annie prayed for no speeding tickets. At home, her son dashed to the bathroom. Phew! They made it!

Pleased with her Indy 500 driving and quick thinking, Annie started to unload her groceries. Soon though, her son shouted, "Mom! I need you!"

On auto-pilot, Annie locked the car and went back into the house. What did he need? Toilet paper, which was in the trunk of her car. She went back outside, only to discover she had inadvertently left her keys on the front seat and then LOCKED the car. Suddenly, everything went in slow motion as Annie turned around to see her son coming outside. "Noooooo. Don't. Close. The. Door," she yelled, but it was too late. Annie was locked out of her car and now the house, too.

She spent the next 20 minutes prying open her office window with a tiny spade. Annie says she learned an important lesson that day: Paper towels work just as well.

You're a good mom, Annie. You win a Nintendo DS Lite and Nintendo DS Lites and Crosswords DS, plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Jaimee Starr of Springfield, Ohio

Annie's looking for her keys.

Jaimee is our latest winner of the Housewife Awards® because of her Honey-Would-You-Pick-Up Moment.

Jaimee had strep throat. All three of Jaimee's sons had strep throat. As if that wasn't enough, one of her sons was also constipated. Oh, poo.

But Jaimee soldiered on. That night, her husband was supposed to play cards with his buddies, a rare occasion for the busy dad of three. Without him, the group would have needed to cancel. So, Jaimee insisted that her honey go and have fun. Go on now. Really.

Though her throat burned and her kids were needy, Jamiee tried hard to be the self sufficient, sweet wife. But all that changed once Hubby was out the door.

Jaimee's son soon got himself stuck on the potty, trying desperately to, er, let the train out of the station, but to no avail. He tried and tried and tried and tried until he was exhausted and still constipated. So Jaimee had to call her hubby home from his card game. Only, Hubby had been driven to the game by a buddy. So, he had to ask his friend -- in front of all his poker pals -- to bring him to the store to buy suppositories before driving him home. It's the kind of story men love to tell over and over for years to come. It's the story about the night his son was full of it. Lucky guy.

In the end (pun entirely intended), Jaimee's son was trapped on the toilet for 35 minutes. He even had the seat imprint on his hiney. Jaimee says, "My shiny moment of trying to be a good wife to my husband literally went down the tubes that night." Ah, but you tried.

You're a good mom, Jaimee. You win a Nintendo DS Lite and Nintendo DS Lites and Crosswords DS, which I highly recommend that you share with Hubby, because he's a good dad, indeed. Also, you get a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Jennifer Lambert of Stamford, Connecticut

Stick to the regular poems, Jennifer.

Jennifer is our latest winner of the Housewife Awards® because of her Gaseous Lack of Parental Judgment.

The story is best told by Jennifer herself, from her blog, Manager Mom:

(Reprinted with permission)

From The Department of "What The Hell Was I Thinking"

Last night's bedtime started out normally. After a dozen or so requests to the kids at increasing volume levels) to start getting ready for bed, they finally got moving.

They schlumphed their way over to the stairs; crabbed the whole way up; bitched and moaned while putting on their pajamas; and complained during teeth brushing, which caused them to spray liquified toothpaste foam all over the freshly cleaning-ladied bathroom vanity.

In the middle of all of the complaining, we hear a "frapppffft" noise.

Manager Dad: "Boy, did you just have gas?"

The Boy: teeheeheehee

The Girl: hohohahaha

Me (to myself): Hey, this is my chance to be Fun Mom for a change! And so inspired by a weekend visit from my dad, I blurted out a rhyme that he used to recite to me when I was a kid. It goes a little something like this:

"A burp is a message from the heart. If it comes out the other end, it's called a fart."

I realized mid-sentence that putting this out there was probably a really bad idea. It was like a party scene in a teen sex comedy where someone says something embarassing on the dance floor, and you hear that record needle scratching sound followed by dead silence while the crowd all looks at the speaker with a “Who is that frigging loser moron?” kind of vibe.

The kids stared at me like I had sprouted a third eyeball, and then started screaming with laughter. And the same kids who have selective hearing and zero short-term memory when it comes to things I NEED them to do, of course IMMEDIATELY memorized this.

"A BURP IS A MESSAGE!" they kept yelling back and forth to each other at top volume, running up and down the hallway and cackling demonically. I started mentally composing one of my now-routine pre-emptive apology notes to their teachers about the poetry lesson the kids would undoubtedly be giving their friends the following day.

And during the next half hour, as we desperately tried to think of something that could get us back on the path to bedtime, MD muttered to me, "I bet you taught them that just so that you could blog about it later."

No, sweetie; I taught it to them because I really am just that stupid.

Thank GOD my dad never taught me "Milk, Milk, Lemonade."

You're a good mom, Jennifer. You win a copy of Marybeth Hicks' Bringing Up Geeks: How to Protect Your Kid's Childhood in a Grow-Up-Too-Fast World plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.


Lauren Shaw of Charlton, Massachusetts

Lauren, the authorities would like to speak to you.

Lauren is our latest winner of the Housewife Awards® because of her Kiddie Induced Run-ins with the Law.

Thanks to Lauren's children, she has had not one, but two run-ins with the authorities. The first happened thanks to her sweet little baby, who at just 14-months-old, managed to get the attention of the police.

Lauren says they were heading out the door one day last summer to meet up with some friends when she noticed her toddler playing with her key chain. She retrieved it from him, loaded her kids in the car and started to leave. That's when she noticed a new voice mail message waiting for her on her cell phone. She called in and heard this: "Mrs. Shaw, this is Daniel from Safe Home Security. We got your distress signal and have dispatched local authorities."

That's right. Her sweet, innocent one-year-old had managed to set off the panic alarm on her keychain, a feat that require holding two buttons down at once. Pretty impressive for someone who's not even potty trained yet. Just then, she saw a police cruiser turning onto her street. So, she did a quick U-turn to go explain her situation to the police. When she pulled into her driveway behind the police officer, she apologized profusely for the false alarm. "That's okay," he said, "I have a ten-year-old. They figure those things out." Of course, Lauren had to explain it was her toddler that was the guilty party here.

Turns out, though, that the key alarm incident was just child's play compared to Lauren's next run in with the authorities. In fact, her family darn near caused a national security scare when they landed at the aiport after a family vacation. First, they stopped to look at the planes out the window before heading off to find the restrooms. When the Shaw family came out and started to leave the airport, her five-year-old asked where his pilot's case was.

"Oh #*&*!" her husband said. "I bet that's why the guard went running by while you three were in the bathroom!"

So, the Shaws ran with all their stuff -- except one small case -- back through the terminal to the gate where a crowd had started gathering. On the ground next to a security guard was Lauren's son's little carry-on bag. She and Hubby had to slink up to him to claim it. He gave them a dirty look, and then said into his walkie-talkie "K-9 unit, disregard." Lauren says the moral of that story is "never leave a bag unattended, even if there is a cartoon character on it!"

You're a good mom, Lauren. You win a copy of Amy Scheibe's What Do You Do All Day? , plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.


Sharon DeVellis of Oakville, Ontario, Canada

Sharon put the little liquor bottles in the recycling bin where they belong.

Sharon is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Show and Share Shenanigans.

Sharon had 45 minutes before she had to leave work to pick up her son, Adam, from senior kindergarten. She decided to call home for her messages, something she rarely does, but this time, she was very glad she did.

The first message was from the video store asking her to return her late videos.

She deleted it.

The second message was from Ursula, Adam's teacher, who said, "Hi Sharon. This is Ursula. I never thought I would encounter this problem with one of my kindergarten students but I had to confiscate a liquor bottle away from Adam today."

Oh. My. God.

Ursula went on: "Can you please come to the school early so we can discuss this?"

Sharon hung up the phone and starting banging her nead against her desk. Then she started laughing so hard, she couldn't breathe. Her boss thought she was crying, what with all the tears running down Sharon's face. She asked what was wrong, and Sharon could barely get the words out. So she replayed the voice mail message for her boss.

It seems that ever since Sharon had brought along Adam to the liquor store so she could by wine, her five-year-old had been bugging her for the cute little liquor bottles the store keeps in a display at the counter. But, being the good mother Sharon is, she didn't think it was wise to give even an empty liquor bottle to a kid.

But, Sharon says, "for the next three days, like only a five-year-old child can do, he proceeded to ask, demand and whine for me to buy him a little liquor bottle." Finally, she told him to ask his grandparents for one. She figured he'd forget about it by the time he got there.

But no. Nonna gave him one. Sharon washed it out and gave it to him, figuring there's no harm in an empty bottle that would likely end up abandoned along with his least favorite toys and half a graham cracker, as usual.

But Hubby apparently thought it would be okay for Adam to bring it to school for Show and Share, which is how Sharon wound up with the phone message from the school and a come-to-Jesus moment she didn't deserve.

Sharon left work early to talk to Ursula, trying to convince her she really wasn't encouraging her five-year-old to drink. She's just the strongest of the weakest links in the family -- which, says Sharon, "makes me pour a big glass of wine when I got home."

You're a good mom, Sharon. You win a signed copy of a Brian Sack's In the Event of My Untimely Demise: Twenty Things My Son Needs to Know , plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Read Sharon's Motherhood, the Ultimate Survivor blog.

Jenna Kagan of Maple Valley, Washington

Jenna, hoping the traffic helicopters aren't circling her roof.

Jenna is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Rooftop Roundup.
Jenna realizes now that she cut it too close to lunch time. She should never have attempted to go to the library and the book store with five kids with grumbling bellies.

First, she had to pull her sons, Joey, 7, and Hunter, 5, (Jenna says, "going on 35") out of the book store's elevator twice. Then she had to finish getting a few more things when all the kids, including her boys, her daughter Krista, 9, and two toddlers she babysits during the day, really preferred to be elsewhere. Like the elevator, for example.

When she got them all home, she fed the kids some lunch and put the littlest ones down for nap. Before homeschooling her three kids, she sat down for a minute to eat her own lunch when she heard a child shout "Mommy! come quick the dog is on the roof!"

The dog is Daisy, her son Joey's service dog. Only, she wasn't the only one on the roof. Her two boys were out on the ledge that hangs over the garage...facing the street...right under a popular traffic helicopter route.

In a panic, Jenna ditched her lunch and ran upstairs to find her bedroom window open and, she says "Well, hey, the roof was right there," so her boys thought it'd be cool to climb out there with Daisy the dog and a lack of fear.

But the kids must have heard Jenna dash up the stairs, because they quickly scrambled back inside. She caught one of them half-in and half-out of the window, while Daisy enjoyed the view.

Jenna got the dog off the roof and considered self-medicating with extra dark chocolate. She says, "Oh heck, a Percocet would not be a bad idea either."

You're a good mom, Jenna. You win a signed copy of a copy of Geralyn Broder Murray's The Light at the End of the Diaper Pail: Inspiration for New Motherhood, plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Kristina Jackson of Marysville, Ohio

Kristina, the laundry's done...for now.
[Warning: Bodily fluids ahead.]

Kristina is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Spaghetti O No!

Why does everything go bad when your husband's away? Ask Kristina. No, don't. She's still getting over this one.

One recent night, Kristina's husband was on a business trip for his job at Honda, leaving her home alone with her two kids, Andrew, 4 1/2, and Brady, 2 1/2, and a can of Spaghetti O's. That was where the trouble began.

On her way up to bed for the night, she noticed a pasta and sauce smell at the top of the stairs, pretty far from the kitchen, where she had cooked them for dinner. She checked on Brady, asleep in his room, but everything was fine.

So, she went into Andrew's room, where the smell got significantly worse. Like visiting the town dump worse. Though he was sleeping, he had thrown up an entire can of Spagetti O's, and was, well, asleep in it, even though it was EVERYWHERE.

Kristina woke him up, thereby triggering the crying and screaming because frankly, who wants to wake up to that? She gave him a shower, cleaned up his room and put his sheets in the washer and started it up.

An hour later, she put him back to bed. But Kristina couldn't sleep. She worried he'd repeat his, uh, repeating so she kept checking on him. For hours, she was in and out of sleep, terrified of what could happen.

Four hours after the big clean up, he appeared in her room with a new report: He'd gone in his undies. She checked in that unphased butt-check that moms do, but he was dry. So she checked his room and well, let's just say she had to change the sheets again. She cleaned him off, too, and brought him back to her bed, presumably because she wanted to have to wash her sheets, too. I dunno.

For the next two hours, she took him to the bathroom every 10 minutes, like the commercial breaks on American Idol. finally, they fell asleep.

Kristina wanted to share the joy that was her night with Hubby, so she called him at 6 a.m. her time -- 3 a.m. his. He seemed thrilled to find out he had nothing to do with the whole thing. Also, to go back to sleep.

In all, Kristina did four loads of laundry, two by 5 AM, and vowed to stay away from Spaghetti O's for a long, long time.

One weekend shortly after this harrowing night, her youngest was sick, though not in such a prolific way. Hubby, who slept on their son's floor all night, feels he deserves an award, too. Okay, here's your award: You don't have to clean up any Spaghetti O's today.

You're a good mom, Kristina. You win a signed copy of Jen Singer's new book, "You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either"), plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Sue Wagner of University Park, Maryland

What's on your shirt, Sue?

Sue is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Oh #@$! Morning Rush.

Sue had had yet another long day. The mom of four kids, ages 10, 7, 5 and 2, Sue fell asleep in front of the TV one night and woke up the next morning thirty minutes later than she should have.

The kids' uniforms weren't clean, lunches weren't made and book fair checks weren't written. Plus, Sue was still wearing the same clothes she had on the day before -- the clothes with ketchup all over it from cleaning up the dinner plates. She looked like she had spent the night alone locked in a McDonald's.

Sue spent the next 45 minutes running around, doing all the things she usually does the night before. As she says: "Making breakfast (oh, #@$!, no milk!), making lunches (oh, #@$!, no bread!), changing a diaper (oh #@$!, not again!)." Lucky for Sue, all the baby dolls in the house are adorned with size 5 diapers.

She checked backpacks, combed hair, added up (incorrectly, as it turns out) the totals for the school book fair and wrote checks.

When the kids left the house, she finally had time to pour herself a much needed cup of coffee. If only she had milk.

You're a good mom, Sue. You win a signed copy of Jen Singer's new book, "You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either"), plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.


Rebecca Bailey of Land O Lakes, Florida

Rebecca has no clue where her car keys are.

Rebecca is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Car Key Caravan.

Some days, Rebecca just can't get it together. Not with four kids underfoot.

One morning, Rebecca managed to get Eric, 6, to the elementary school at 8:30, and Mark, 4, to the at pre-K at 9. She went home -- and then it all went downhill from there.

She was supposed to get Zack, 2, and Ben, 13 months, to Story Time at the library at 10, but she couldn't find her car keys. She searched the car, the garage, the house and the baby, convinced he had made off with them. She looked for her spare set stuck in a magnetic case to the bottom of the van only to realize the little lockbox was no longer there. So, they missed Story Time.

She piled her toddlers in the double-stroller and walked a mile-and-a-half to the pre-school to retrieve her four-year-old, and started to head toward the elementary school two-and-a-half miles away. They looked like a human version of "Homeward Bound." Which is why another mom took pity on them, and piled them into her van. She then picked up Eric at school and drove the whole crew home.

Later that day, Rebecca took one last desperate search through the van (and the sippy cups, empty snack bags, books and toys) and found her car keys in the crack between the console and the passenger seat. Lucky for her, she didn't lose a kid in there.

You're a good mom, Rebecca. You win a signed copy of Jen Singer's new book, "You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either"), plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Read more about the adventures of Rebecca's life with boys at her blog, Bailey-LifeWithBoys.blogspot.com.



Marlena Braun of Augsburg, Germany

Marlena doesn't want to see candy for a long, long time.

Marlena is our first double-winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Candy Snatcher Incident.

One day, Marlena thought it would be nice to treat her daughter Mary, 2 1/2, some brownies and candy. Mary had been nice, and Marlena wanted to reward her good behavior in the hope that it would encourage some more. Instead, it turned Mary into a kleptomaniac.

Everything went well at the store. No public temper tantrums. No looks from the shopkeeper that says, "You should control your toddler." Marlena was feeling pretty good about the whole thing, until they got home.

As they reached their apartment, they ran into their neighbor, a kindly retiree who had baskets full of candy and cakes for his family and friends. When they finished their brief visit, Marlena got in the elevator, pushed the button for her floor and announced, "Mary let's go."

But Mary didn't go right away. First she ran to the neighbor's baskets of goodies, grabbed as much as she could carry and sprinted to the elevator. Mary, it seems, thought she the winner of a supermarket sweep contest: She snatched her haul and ran.

Marlena dragged her toddler out of the elevator and asked her to return her stolen goods to the neighbor. But Mary ran inside, grabbed some more sweets and dashed back out. It seems she thought that the baskets of treats were for her for behaving so nicely...before she started her life of crime, that is.

I see a future in bank robbery.

Marlena said it took an hour to get Mary to return all of her loot. Luckily, the neighbor took it in stride. But from now on, he'll be locking his doors whenever Mary comes down the elevator.

You're a good mom, Marlena. You win a signed copy of Jen Singer's new book, "You're a Good Mom (and Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either"), plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.

Read about Marlena's prize for her Instant Karma Clean-up.


Ronique Turner-Winston of Urbana, Illnois

Ronique gave up her job as baby massage therapist.

Ronique is the latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Baby Massage Moment.

Ronique couldn't help herself. Like most first-time moms, she was all caught up in 21st century parenting "best for baby" gaga. So she decided she would give her toddler, D'meneca, a massage. She had heard it was a wonderful thing to do for mom-baby bonding.

But it's hard to get a squirmy toddler to cooperate even during diaper changes or bath time, let alone to lie still for a massage. Still, Ronique persisted.

She turned her 23-month-old onto her belly, rubbed lotion on her back began to give her a massage. Ronique says she was just doing what the parenting books say to do to "promote bonding or whatever." But D'meneca wanted nothing to do with all that bonding. She squirmed and fussed while Ronique gently held her down.

Finally, says Ronique, "she must have realized that this was feeling pretty good, so she relaxed and laid her head down."

Ronique had tamed a fidgety toddler! And they were bonding. Just like the books said...until her toddler got so relaxed, she pooted. Ronique says it was "a big puff of not so sugar and spice right in my face."

And that was Ronique's last job as a massage therapist.

You're a good mom, Ronique. You win a copy of Felicia Sullivan's memoir, "The Sky Isn't Visible from Here": Scenes from a Life," plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.



Alexis Allsman of Marysville, California

Alexis smells diaper rash ointment somewhere...

Alexis is the latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Toddler Art Project.

Alexis finally had a moment to take a pee. She put her two-month-old son down in his room, and left her toddlers, Steven, 3, and Ross, 2, playing nicely with their train set. But as soon as she sat down, she realized the house was eerily quiet.

She finished fast and stepped out of the bathroom to discover that her toddlers had decided to spread diaper rash ointment all over their newborn brother and, in a strange sign of solidarity, on their own heads. It looked like the set of Nickelodeon's "Slimed!" after the cameras go off, but before the handlers rush in with wet towels.

Alexis cleaned off the culprits, and then took the baby into the bathroom to wash off a week's worth of diaper rash ointment. Soon, it was eerily quiet again.

Alexis rushed from room to room, but she couldn't find her toddlers. Panicked, she raced into her office where she found her boys "painting" themselves with Sharpies, those colorful PERMANENT markers that take a few days to wash off your skin. I know. I've been there.

Note to Alexis: Until the boys are at least 12, lock the Sharpies up, along with the diaper rash ointment, and -- just in case -- the entire contents of your pantry.

Now Alexis knows that you can't have peace and quiet at the same time when there are two toddlers in the house.

You're a good mom, Alexis. You win a copy of "Just Tell Me What to Say: Sensible Tips and Scripts for Perplexed Parents" by Betsy Brown Braun, plus a Housewife Award® certificate for the fridge.



Shelley Baty of Travis AFB, California

Shelley and her husband conspiring never to buy Silly Putty again.

Shelley is the latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Gooey Puddle Predicament.

Shelley's kids all got Silly Putty for Christmas. Grace, 4, immediately renamed it "Gooey Puddle," and fell in love. Emily, 8, and Zachary, 10, were equally excited about the red and green squishy stuff. But Shelley? Not so much.

For days after Christmas, Shelley heard herself say such pithy statements as:
"Gooey Puddle is only allowed at the table."
"Take the Gooey Puddle back to the table."
"Who put the Gooey Puddle on the couch?"
"How did the Gooey Puddle get upstairs?"

The Gooey Puddle was in the plastic egg shaped container every time she discovered it away from the table, so she assumed that though it was being moved around the house, it was never actually played with in all its gooey glory.

Of course, none of the kids seemed to know how the Goodey Puddle wound up in, say, the dining room. They swore they all put it right where they were supposed to after playing with it. Like a Scooby-Doo cartoon, it was a riveting mystery.

Then one day, Shelley washed and dried Zachary's comforter. When she took it out of the dryer, she noticed a large red blob all over the darn thing. Also, red marks on her son's favorite stuffed animal, a pillow and a couple of blankets.

Zoinks! The Gooey Puddle had gone through the wash!

Shelley felt a range of emotions: anger, betrayal, buyer's remorse and then, exhaustion. After scraping it with a knife, spraying with a stain remover, blotting with cotton balls, applying rubbing alcohol, and more blotting, the Gooey Puddle is now just a red stain -- or rather, three or four stains on both sides of the comforter.

Shelley interrogated her brood to find out her had left Gooey Puddle on Zachary's bed. You guessed it: Nobody did.

So Shelley announced that she has banned Gooey Puddle from their home until Grace turns 12. Emily calculated that she would be 18 by then, so Shelley told her she'd give her some Gooey Puddle when she graduates from high school.

Meanwhile, she had all "three angels" as she calls them, locate and dispose of all Gooey Puddle in the house...until... Shelley found some stuck to her son's pajamas!

Jinkies!

Where will Gooey Puddle show up next? Perhaps next to the piece of a brick she found in the washing machine the next day. It's hard to say with Gooey Puddle and the three angels in the house.

You're a good mom, Shelley. You win a copy of "Sex, Money and Kids: Stop Fighting about the Three Things that Can Ruin Your Marriage," by Tina Tessina, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.



Jenny Ingram of Poulsbo, Washington

Jenny! Be careful of that table leg!

Jenny is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Guilty Mom Scene.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1. *Clack*

A guilty mother. A busy preschooler. An elementary school. This… is their true story.

Guilty Mom enters the school with her 8-, 5- and 2-year-old. She picks up her visitor’s badge. She delivers the Kindergartener to her classroom and begins the long journey across the hallway tiles (to the other side of the school) with her Second Grader leading the charge. The Preschooler is s l o w l y stepping on each tile… careful not to step on any cracks.

She must not want to break her mother’s back. Super.

Upon arrival, Guilty Mom is set to work by Teacher. By the way, it’s reading time, so Preschooler needs to be veeeery quiet. Double Super.

“Shhhhhh. Shhhhhhh. Shhhhh…” Guilty Mom wonders if Preschooler’s noises are more bothersome than her own spit-iful shhhhhhush’s. Guilty Mom never realized how loud a stamp and stamp pad could be. She also never realized how loud pencils could be.

Soon it was time to put books away. Preschooler is given the task of walking one book at a time to Guilty Mom. Preschooler fetches book, Mom stacks book. Not the most efficient approach, but efficiency is not Guilty Mom’s goal at this point. It goes well… until… Preschooler falls down and skins her neck… on a table leg. Her neck.

I don’t know.

The pitch the Preschooler’s cries hit were the kind that break wine glasses. Since this happened at an elementary school, this claim cannot be proven, for wine glasses are frowned upon at elementary schools.

Guilty Mom comforts, but also encourages Preschooler to cry quietly. “Mommy knows it hurts. You can cry. Just don’t cry out loud.” They walk the halls in search of student-free territory. Not so much.

Guilty Mom walks further from Second Grader’s classroom… she is hopeful more space will muffle the sounds of Preschooler’s agony. Only, Preschooler grows more upset to be so far from her adored Second Grade brother. Guilty Mom tries to figure out which door to outside will let her back in, but she know they all are all locked on the outside. Guilty Mom is sweating.

Guilt Mom returns to classroom pod to put away items and make a quick getaway…. But Responsible Adult gets to her first. “In 20 minutes we need to have it quiet because of testing.”

Blood is spewing from Preschooler’s jugular. Not really.

Guilty Mom dehydrates to death right in the middle of the 1st and 2nd grade pod due to anxiety-induced sweating. Not really, either.

Guilty mom assures Responsible Adult, “We will be leaving WAY before that”… Guilty Mom needs to go help in Kindergartener’s classroom.

This is the truth.

The second shift went much more smoothly. Though a slamming door strongly suggested Preschooler was too loud for the teacher workroom. It also took a while to arrive at Kindergartener’s classroom because of those blessed hallway tiles, and the imaginary bar between Preschooler’s legs that kept her from being able to bend her knees…

By the end of her volunteer time, Guilty Mom decided she needed two big-a** chocolate chip cookies from Starbucks. Her blood sugar was low, and so were her chocolate stores. Guilty Mom is aptly named.

Guilty Mom had some time to kill after she replenished her vital nutrients. A shoe store was two doors down. Guilty Mom and Preschooler sauntered in. The smell of faux animal hide filled their senses. Preschooler exclaimed, “OH MAMA!!! WE’RE HOME!!! I’m gonna go wook at my shoooooooes!”

It appears both Guilty Mom and Preschooler needed a little bit of post-volunteer “therapy”. I got my sugar and she tried on shoes. Girls.

You're a good mom, Jenny. You win gift certficate for two Mitetees™ clever personalized Ts and onesies, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.


Reprinted with permission from Jenny's blog, Jenny on the Spot.



Karen Vogel of Virginia

Karen is off looking for a mouse -- and the scissors.

Karen is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her The More, The Messier Week.

With six kids and a husband who sometimes travels to Europe on business, Karen's got her hands full -- and her family keeps reminding her of it. Take last week, for example. It reads like a script for, perhaps, "Cheaper by the Half-Dozen."

Karen: "Honey! There's a mouse in the bedroom wall. Are you gonna trap it?
HUBBY: (silence, pretending to be asleep)

Karen: "If you look like you're here to fix the plumbing when you bend over, you need to change your jeans before you go out."
TEENAGED DAUGHTER: "Geez, it's not like I'm flashing the paparrazzi."

Karen: "You need to take Chemistry, because you might need it later."
TEENAGED SON: "Tell me how knowing that XE stand for Xenon is going to help me get a job on Wall Street."

Karen: "Today, I filled two trash bags with what was in your drawers, including bursted balloons, broken toys you had dug out of the garbage when I wasn't looking, squashed paper airplanes and broken pencils."
10-YEAR-OLD SON: "You threw out the balloons? But what if I need them two months from now?"

Karen: "I made a special vegetarian meal tonight!"
7-YEAR-OLD SON: (crying, as though Mom just announced everyone would be parachuted into the Amazon like Bear Grylls on "Man vs. Nature" to eat grubs for dinner)

Karen: "Where are the scissors?"
5-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER: (snip, snip, snipping the fringe off the Turkish rug, the only nice item left in the house)

Karen: "Why do you need a diaper?"
2-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER: "So I can poop."

You're a good mom, Karen. You win a copy of Table for Eight: Raising a Large Family in a Small-Family World by Meagan Francis, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.

Read more of Karen's very full household on her blog, The More, The Messier.


Deborah Gardner of New Bern, North Carolina

Deborah is hiding somewhere in Utah.

[Warning: Potty talk ahead.]

Deborah is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Pan American Potty Peril.

For two months, Deborah tried to get her daughter to potty train. They had a cross-country car trip head of them, and there aren't a whole lot of potties along the way. Not ones you'd like to stop and visit with your potty training toddler, anyhow.

Naturally, her daughter decided to potty train herself just two weeks before the 2,000-mile-plus trip from the great wide open west to North Carolina. You know, because there's nothing like being trapped in a car with a kid in brand new Cinderella underpants, wondering if she's truly potty trained, or if it just seemed like fun thing to sit on the potty while Mommy was busy packing.

After a stop in western Nevada to visit family, Deborah and her family set out for Utah. Before they left, Deborah grilled her toddler about her need to use the facilities before there were no facilities available to use. Several times, Deborah asked, "Do you have to poop?" and several times, her sweet little girl looked her in the eye and lied: "Nope."

They were one hour from Salt Lake City when Deborah heard grunting from the back seat. She asked her daughter if she was, in fact, pooping, and not, say, lugging suitcases or trying to pull out a book from under something heavy so she could look at the pictures until they arrived safely in Salt Lake. But she shook her head.

Fifteen minutes later, she started screaming. Deborah turned around to find her toddler's hands and her car seat covered in... well, you know. It all sounds like a horror film for parents:

Announcer: "On a long, desolate stretch of road, miles from the closest rest room and miles more from a store that sells jumbo tubs of wipes, Deborah is about to come face-to-face with...

Cue the screams. The mini-van screeches to a halt.

Announcer: The Thing That Poops in Her Pants..."

Deborah managed to clean it up the best she could, salvaging the car seat, if not her sense of humor. Eventually, they made it to their new home on the East Coast, where they made sure they aired out the car before greeting their new neighbors -- after rushing to the bathroom, of course.

You're a good mom, Deborah. You win a midnight ET for your chance to win a signed copy of Jen Singer's "14 Hours 'Til Bedtime", plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.


Leandra Livesay of Sumter, South Carolina

"Mommy, your shoes!"

Leandra is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Parking Lot Dash.

Leandra would do anything to make it to Thursday night's Kids Eat Free! night at her local mexican restaurant. Anything, it seems, including training for an Iron Man marathon -- in the pouring rain.

Every week, Leandra takes her daughter, Elizabeth, 2 1/2, and her son, Tyler, 2 months, to a Mexican restaurant where they meet up with friends.

One recent Thursday, Leandra was running late -- but, it turns out, just in time for a pouring rain storm not unlike something you'd see in The Perfect Storm, the epic drama starring George Clooney. Only, George didn't have to run with 40 pounds of children in his arms.

As soon as Leandra pulled into the restaurant's parking lot, the sky opened up and the rain poured down, seemingly in buckets. She was already late for dinner; her friend, Laura, was inside, waiting with her own little kids, Zachary, 4, and Brianna, 2 1/2, who were probably already half-way through the taco chips and Laura's patience by then. What did Leandra do?

She did what any strong, hungry, mom who'd been trapped in the house with a toddler and a newborn all day would do: She ran. But first, she covered Tyler's carrier up, and held it -- and all 14 pounds of newborn -- in one hand. Then, she hoisted up her 24-pound toddler in her other arm and dashed through the parking lot.

Mid-way to the door, her sandals started to twist around in a three-inch puddle of rain. Elizabeth shouted repeatedly, "Mommy, your shoes! Mommy, your shoes! Mommy, your shoes!" But Mommy kept on running -- barefoot -- until she got to the sidewalk, where she left her kids underneath an overhang and ran back to get her shoes.

When she returned, a waiter from the restaurant appeared with a golf umbrella. ¡ Aye, carumba, buddy! You're a little late! Leandra was done with her Iron Man, er, Iron Mom competition.

After dinner, the rain stopped, and Leandra made it to her car with her kids -- and her shoes.

You're a good mom, Leandra. You win a Strollometer, the world's first computer/speedometer designed to fit any baby stroller, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge. You know, so you can keep track of how many long jumps you're doing in parking lots across South Carolina.



Marlena Braun of Augsburg, Germany

Instant karma is going to get you.

[Warning: Bodily fluids ahead.]

Marlena is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Instant Karma Clean-up.

Marlena had had enough, thank you very much. Enough of the vomiting. Enough of the cleaning. Enough of being home with two sick kids. If only her husband understood that.

For one week, Marlena and her kids, Mary, 2, and Alex, 1, had been playing ping-pong with the Norwalk virus, a highly contagious stomach virus that causes a whole lot of vomiting. The baby was vomiting anywhere from three to five times daily for a week. Mary vomited four times in two days. Marlena hurled eight times over two days. She says, "By the time I would clean one mess, there was another one." It was everywhere: on the couch, in the hallway, on all the floors, on the beds, in the play pen, on the kitchen counter, all over her, in the closet, the balcony, and all those other places that kids know they are not allowed to be. In short, it was like a frat house the day after the party of the year.

The doctor told her to keep everyone hydrated, but Alex wouldn't drink tea or water. He wouldn't eat his jarred food, insisting, instead of drinking milk, which, of course, which irritated his tummy even more.

Marlena says, "Once, I was even in the bathroom trying to pee when Alex opened the door and vomited all over me."

Sounds like a scene from "Animal House."

After a week at home with sick kids, her husband, Markus, finally got to see what it was like when Mary vomited on him. Marlena started to snicker that Finally-he-knows-what-I-go-through snicker when all of a sudden, Alex vomited on her.

Kids are like instant karma. And you never know when it'll get you.

A week later, Markus caught the virus. Alex still has a touch of it. So Marlena is still sanitizing the whole house with medical grade alcohol and, perhaps, looking forward to spring.

You're a good mom, Marlena. You win a a copy of "Absolutely Organized: A Mom's Guide to a No-stress Schedule and Clutter-free Home"by Debbie Lillard, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.



Whitney Cofer of Bridgewater, Virginia

Hurry! The pizza guy is at the door.

Whitney is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Pepperoni Plea.

Whitney's daughter, Madison, 5, has never been much of a sleeper. And yet, Whitney and her husband are. Or they try to be. But Madison often has other plans.

When she was 15-months-old, Madison awoke earlier than everyone else in the house -- as usual. So, she called for Whitney through the baby monitor.

"Momma. Momma...Momma!"

But Momma, like many exhausted moms, wanted to keep sleeping and pretended not to hear her. So, Madison tried her father.

"Daddy. Daddy....Daddy!"

But he didn't answer her, either, instead, rolling over in bed.

Madison was quiet for a few moments, apparently comtemplating her next move. Suddenly, Whitney heard her toddler's next plea:

"Pizza guy!"

Now there's someone who comes when you call him! Good thinking, Madison!

After that, Whitney made sure she answered her daughter's baby monitor calls right away. After all, what mom wants to be trumped by the pizza delivery guy?

You're a good mom, Whitney, for admitting to the world that, perhaps, the pizza guy visits you quite often. You win a a copy of Miracle in the City of Angels: A Story of International Adoption by MommaSaid's own Erin Brown Conroy and Elle Conner and some other MommaSaid goodies, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.



Virginia Scruton of Hampton, Georgia

Virginia is out buying cleaning fluid.

[Warning: Poop ahead.]

Virginia is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Haywire Hostessing.

Virginia and her husband enjoy entertaining friends in their home. Well, Virginia says she entertains while her husband mostly eats and talks.

Anyhow, one Friday afternoon, Virginia was frantically preparing all the courses for a big dinner with friends, cleaning along the way, exhausted from working off baby fat at the gym, while simultaneously trying to keep her five-month-old, Grace, who suffers from separation anxiety, happy.

The soup was boiling over, the bread was burning, and the chicken wasn't quite thawed while Grace cried and cried. It was like a cross between an "I Love Lucy" episode and a Calgon commercial.

When Grace finally stopped crying and began to giggle in her Exersaucer, Virginia sighed in relief and decided to continue cooking for 10 more minutes.

Finally, she peeked in on the baby only to discover why she was so darn content: Grace was playing with a puddle of breastfed poop on her Exersaucer platform. She splashed and danced in it, smiling and laughing as though she were in town pool or something else far more refreshing. And clean.

Ah, babies. Why buy them toys when all they need to entertain themselves is a puddle of poop?

Grace had splattered it on every surface within a 12 inch diameter, like a Jason Pollack painting, only with a stronger odor. Virginia had just 30 minutes before her company arrived.

So, Mom cleaned up the mess, the baby, the Exersaucer and the room before finishing up cooking and welcoming guests as though she hadn't just starred in her own episode of "Dirty Jobs."

You're a good mom, Virginia. You win a a copy of Negotiation Generation: Take Back Your Parental Authority Without Punishment by Lynne Reeves Griffin, plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.


Daisy Wilson of Splendora, Texas

Daisy has a #10 on the back of her shirt.

Daisy is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Root, Root, Root for the Wrong Kid.

Daisy and her family were thrilled for her son. Twelve-year-old Jerry had not only made the junior high school football team, but he was the quarterback!

To celebrate, Daisy and her sisters, Stephanie and Jennifer, made up T-shirts to wear to the game for them and for Daisy's daughter, Wynter and her nephew Anthony, both almost 4. They ironed the letters for his last name, Pond, on each shirt along with his number -- 10. They were so excited, so proud....so wrong.

When they got to the game, they met up with Jerry's dad and his wife, Daisy's parents and her mother-in-law. Lucky for them, they weren't wearing the home-made shirts, because Jerry's number wasn't 10, it was 18. Also, he sat on the bench pretty much the entire game.

Daisy's sister tried to rectify the error by rushing to the store to buy a black Sharpie pen and draw a line on the zeros on their shirts to try to make them into eights. Meanwhile, Jerry pretended not to know them.

Finally, Daisy's son went into the game and the crowd (or at least, the bozos in the home-made shirts) went wild! Thirty seconds later, he pulled a muscle in his knee, and returned to the bench, where he probably was thrilled not to be number 10.

By the way, the boy who normally wears number 10 was not there that day, which is probably a good thing, or else he might wonder why he had such a big fan club and yet recognized none of them or their big black pen.

You're a good mom, Daisy. You win a a copy of Dedication by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus, authors of "The Nanny Diaries," plus a Housewife Award for the fridge.



Kellie Pease of Derby, Connecticut

Kellie, when she's not sleeping in the van.

Kellie is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Vacation (All I Ever Wanted) Odyssey.

Kellie and her husband decided to take their kids, Kayleigh, 12, Alec, 7, and Aidan, then 18 months, to their friends' house in Cape Cod. They thought it would be a nice relaxing break for the whole family. Instead, they'd need a vacation from their vacation.

A few days before Pease family was to leave for the Cape, their toddler came down with coxsackie, a.k.a. "hand, foot and mouth disease"...a.k.a. "no rest for the grown-ups."

Kellie reports that the poor kid had a high fever, "gums so swollen you could barely see his teeth," sores in his mouth and on his face, a sore throat and body aches. So, you can imagine he had a tough time sleeping (and therefore, so did Kellie.)

The only thing that would appease poor Aidan was his favorite DVD, "The Imagination Movers," and the car. So, Kellie and her husband put him in his car seat and drove. And drove. And drove. And drove half the length of Cape Cod until Aidan finally fell asleep.

Mom and Dad need coffee badly, but there wasn't one open store, not even a Seven Eleven or a gas station. When they finally found a store, it was too late to ingest large amounts of caffeine, so they returned to their vacation home.

The rest of the house was sound asleep, so Kellie tip-toed to their room and carefully placed Aidan in the playpen, where he AWOKE INSTANTLY, CRYING. Quickly, Kellie scooped her toddler up and brought him into her bed, where he fell back asleep -- smack in the middle of her side of the bed.

She tried to curl up around him like a cat, but wound off hanging off of the bed, fearful that she'd wake him up again. So, she shuffled downstairs, where she realized that the only place she could could sleep was on the sun porch. Only, she couldn't get the door open. It was stuck from the humidity, and Kellie was stuck with nowhere to sleep.

So she did what any mother desperate for sleep would do. She went outside, barefoot, and fell asleep in her van. When she woke up an hour later, the sun was shining. She says, "I ran in thinking everybody would be worried about me, but they were all just getting up and hadn't noticed I was gone!"

For the rest of her "vacation," Kellie held her toddler as he slept. They'd doze together, and whenever he awoke, Kellie rubbed his head and back and said, "Mommy's here. It's okay," until he fell back asleep. Not exactly comfortable, but it required less mileage.

You're a good mom, Kellie. You win a a Baby Briefcase®, a document organizer designed specifically for parents and their babies and toddlers, particularly useful and important for health-related documents. Stylish and charming, the mom-invented Baby Briefcase stores all the documents and information relating to a new baby in a way that makes everything easily accessible whether at a hospital, doctor's office, on vacation or anywhere else. And, as always, a Housewife Award for the fridge.

Trisha Harrer of West Chester, Pennsylvania

Trisha has no idea there's icing all over the floor.

Trisha is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Cake and Eat it, Too Episode.

Trisha was blow-drying her hair. Far from the refrigerator. Far from her toddler. Far from her sister's birthday cake. So, really, you can't blame her for what happened.

Trisha just wanted to do something special for her sister Cris's 40th birthday. So she and her sister Vicki made a cake, decorated it and put it in the fridge until the party later that evening.

Her son, Daniel, 2 1/2, was smitten with the cake the moment his mom took out the chocolate icing and began to decorate it. "This is for the party tonight," she told her toddler, whose ability to delay gratification is second only to a fraternity brother's next to a keg during Rush.

Daniel's party would start sooner than everyone else's.

He waited for his mom to turn on her blow-dryer before he scampered to the fridge. Then he carefully removed the cake's "security system" -- a bowl of cereal with milk that sat on top of the cake container -- and placed it on the floor without spilling it. Then he had his way with the cake.

When Trisha discovered him, she says she told him what she always says: "You're lucky that you're cute!" As she was cleaning up the mess, she tasted some of the cake, and it was quite good. So, she brought the bottom of the cake (which didn't touch the floor) to the party, so her mom could try it -- with Daniel's fingerprints in it. Mmmmm. Only a grandmother could love that.

En route to the party, Trisha put what was left of the cake between the two front seats of yet another sister's car. But when the brakes were slammed, the cake flew into the dashboard and smeared into rug of the car. Trisha says she decided three things: "The cake was cursed, I need a cake plate with a tighter lid, and that I needed to bring my sister's car to have it detailed."

Luckily, another sister (there are 5) brought brownies to the party.

You're a good mom (and sister), Trisha. You win this very cool Giggly Gear Photo Tote. It's a book bag, gym bag, diaper bag, beach bag...or knitting bag. And as always, a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.




Shirley Carlisle of Muskegon, Michigan

Shirley is answering the Mom Hotline.

Shirley is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Second Shift Shuffle.

Shirley is never off duty. When her husband is watching their daughter, Michaela, 7, and their son, Maverick, 4, she is always just a phone call away, like a 24-hour tech support for parenting.

When the kids tell Dad that mom said it's okay to have cereal for dinner, she's on speed dial to tell him otherwise. When Maverick says, "But Dad, we had a bath already," it's time for 1-800-CALL-MOM. She may not always be there, but Shirley is always in charge.

When Shirley is providing remote parenting support, she proves that moms have eyes in the back of their heads, or, er, through the phone. Once, she could tell that her son was climbing up the entertainment center. "Tell your son to get down," Shirley advised, much to the amazement of her husband, who didn't even see his son go up in the first place.

It must be like living with Samantha of "Bewitched." Or, perhaps, Houdini. She should take her show on the road. Never mind that. They'd call her from home.

Shirley can even out doctor the doctors. When Michaela had swollen eyes for a few days, her pediatrician insisted she was simply suffering from allergies. So, says Shirley, "this poor girl's eyes looks like she had too much Botox" while the doctor set out to prove Shirley's diagnosis of a sinus infection wrong.

In the emergency room a few days later, Shirley found out she was right after all. And her daughter got the antibiotics she had needed for her sinus infection days earlier.

Maybe Shirley should set up a hotline for medical advice, too. Or maybe not. She's got enough going on. This fall, Shirley will begin homeschooling her daughter. Well, at least they can't call her when she's already home.

You're a good mom, Shirley. You win a Busy Body Book® family organizer for August 2007- September 2008, plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.



Annette Dixon of O'Fallon, Illinois

Annette is out buying kitty litter.

Annette is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards® for her Cat Litter Calamity.

Annette had just quit her job as a full-time research and development chemist to stay home with her children, Liam, then 2, and Eamonn, then 15 months. She was three-months pregnant with her third child, and feeling every bit of it: Nausea came to visit her frequently.

All aglow with that "I am free" feeling that folks get when they leave their jobs, Annette thought it would be fun to take a moment to check her e-mail. Her friends all worked outside the home, so it was her only link to the outside world.

Soon, her house became quiet. Dangerously quiet. She set out to track down her sons and quickly became sorry she had. Liam had found the new kitty litter box that she had placed in the basement storage area in case her cats got locked downstairs, and was in the process of pouring fresh kitty litter onto his little brother's head.

Eamonn started to cry. The litter, which was the clumping kind, soaked up his tears and began to stick to his face and mouth in caked-on, baked on balls. Liam also had the clumping kitter litter all over himself, so that Annette was facing not one, but two giant kitter litter cakes that cried.

Panicked, she grabbed both kids and ran to the upstairs bathroom, not realizing that she was leaving a kitty litter trail all over the carpeting, up both flights of stairs to the top floor, down the hallway and into their bathroom.

When she found litter in Eamonn's diaper, she thought it would be a grand idea to run the bath and soak both kids, seemingly oblivious to the properties of kitty litter when soaked in large amounts of water. I guess she didn't research that in her chemist job.

Her kids' kitty litter cakes were now concrete helmets affixed to their heads like a beer bottle in Lindsay Lohan's hand. Worse, the hardening sludge was going down the drain and into the plumbing.

Annette desperately tried to shampoo and comb the mess out but that was like trying to unpave the road by hand. Soon, her pregnancy hormones kicked in, and she called her husband, Robert, in tears, babbling about kitty litter and toddlers and pipes and who-knows-what. A three-time veteran of pregnancy, he knew enough to just come home. Also, as the Chair of the Chemistry Department/Biochemistry at a local college, he knew that water plus kitty litter equals one darn big mess.

Annette and Robert vacuumed and scrubbed until finally, the kitter litter trail was gone. The kids didn't touch the litter again. And yet, the cats didn't notice a thing.

You're a good mom, Annette. You win a $40 gift certificate for Mabel's Labels, mom-made dishwasher and microwave-safe stick-on-labels can be used on cups, bowls, toys, books, sunscreen bottles, clothing, lunchboxes, wipes containers, show-and-tell items, and more, perfect for your now FOUR kids, plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.



Carrie Brink of Florida

Carrie, smiling because she has no idea
of the forecoming pestilence and turmoil.

Carrie is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for discovering her Bugs, Viruses and Cancer, Oh My!

As Carrie puts it so eloquently, "Apparently, being told that I have cancer isn't enough for my family. No, we have to go to the extreme, the triathlon of family life."

In June, Carrie was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Did she have time to let it sink in, sitting on a bench in the backyard, smelling the flowers and pondering the meaning of life? Of course not. Carrie is a mother. And a mother of children who have their own issues. Also, lice. And rotovirus. Oh, and ringworm.

First, her youngest contracted rotovirus, which Carrie has labeled, "the mother of all childhood viruses." She found out about it when she heard "a sound like one of my kids pouring out a gallon of milk on the wood floors."

Turns out, it wasn't milk, but poop. Her husband took one sniff and declared, "Rotovirus." She reports, "I hate when he does that - I'M the nurse." She says that some viruses " have unique smells when they erupt from the backside. The odorific aroma and the characteristic Hulk-green foamy poo are dead give-aways.

But, Carrie says,"rotavirus times four small children and their mother was just the beginning." Her three-year-old (the Hulk-green poo kid) soon developed while polka-dots on his otherwise tan skin. She reports, "This one I diagnosed first, ha ha Dad! Little guy has tinnea corporis. Sounds pretty, doesn't it? Rolls right off the tongue. The 'street name' ain't so lovely. Little guy has ringworm."

The boy had circles of varying sizes, about 10 shades lighter than the rest of his skin. Carrie tried several over-the-counter remedies for this common fungus, including some, uh, "female" cream, but nothing worked. She she took him to the pediatrician, who confirmed both the rotavirus and the ringwork and she prescribed an oral anti-fungal that should work in ....six weeks.

Carrie asks, "Have you ever tried to get one-and-a half teaspoons of pungent, bitter medicine down a squirming toddler?" It took three dishtowels, one can of Coke (for him), and a shot of vodka (for mom) before that first dose went down. Only 42 doses to go!"

Did Carrie finally have some time to think about her diagnosis? Uh, nope. She says, "It continues...Cancer, Rotavirus, Ringworm, wait for it....wait for it... LICE! Yes, my seven-year-old had a rip-roaring case of head lice." She had missed this one, because she assumed he was just having another food allergy.

But when two days of Benedryl doses didn't work, she tried multiple applications of pesticides (covered by a Wal-mart bag, as seen in the photo) to get rid of the bugs on his head. She spent 10 days combing four little heads with comb. She adds, "If I hadn't had cancer before, I certainly would now!" Science ought to study that one.

Carrie threw out the kids' pillows and even the couch -- a twin-size, pull-out couch with matching ottoman and storage chest. She warns, "Did you know those little buggers can live in the stitching of fabric?? Eeewww!"

Carrie says, " I know waaaay too much about head lice. If they come back, forget chemotherapy, I'm shaving my head!" At least you'll get to sit down for chemo. Hear's hoping the chemo chair doesn't have lice, too.

You're a good mom, Carrie. You a copy of The Women's Daily Irony Supplement by Judy Gruen, plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.



Cindy Copple of Coppell, Texas

Cindy and her kids are smiling...without any Jelly Beans stuck in between their teeth.

Cindy is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for discovering her son's secret Jelly Bean stash.

One night after supper, Cindy's four-year-old son, John, ran to his room with a big smile on his face. All clues pointed to something suspicious - John hadn't finished his dinner and wouldn't be getting any dessert: Usually a high-tension situation.

Cindy thought it was strange, but she let it pass. Later, at bed time while playing Candy Land, John reached under his pillow and told Cindy not to look. From under the pillow, he pulled out a jelly bean, left over from Grandma Sue's Easter gift.

"Are you hiding candy?" Cindy asked.

"Only two, Mommy," John innocently replied.

Cindy discussed not hiding candy and how important it is not to eat after brushing teeth in the evening. John brushed his teeth again and went to bed. As Cindy began to leave, John told her not to look in his closet. Cindy thought that was odd, but it was late and she let it pass.

The next day, as John said "good morning," Cindy noticed he had something red stuck in his teeth. When she asked him about it, he had no response. Cindy was in a hurry to get everyone to school on time, so she didn't push the matter.

After his sisters -- Alexandra, 9, and Rebecca, 7 -- were gone and it was time to take him to school, Cindy decided to use a little of John's own medicine. She bribed him with two jelly beans to get in the car and tell her the truth. She asked if he had hidden candy in his room. After withholding the two jelly beans he finally said, "Yes, but don't look in my closet."

Cindy figured she got the truth and gave him the jelly beans. Later that day, she found the big stash - a baggie filled with jelly beans stuffed under some clothes in John's closet. In Cindy's house, this breaks the record for the youngest person to hide stuff from the parents. At least he was young enough to not lie about it yet!

You're a good mom, Cindy. You win a three-month Flower of the Month Club delivery, courtesy of In the Motherhood.com, plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.
Conceived by Suave and Sprint, "In the Motherhood" is a series of webisodes created by mothers everywhere starring Leah Remini. Click to watch the trailer.



Jennifer Divito of Louisville, Kentucky


Jennifer's smiling here because no one is peeing on her floor...yet.

Jennifer is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for her Pee Pandemonium.

Jennifer's husband was at his second job as a shift manager at Starbucks, so Jennifer had the bedtime ritual to herself. Pregnant with her fourth child, Jennifer had managed to get her two oldest kids, Joanna, 6, and Jubilee, 4, to bed, and was working on putting 21-month-old, Joshua, into his p.j's.

Suddenly, Joanna raced out of her bedroom to the bathroom, but didn't quite make it to the potty. Jennifer rushed to the bathroom, leaving Joshua diaperless in his room violating the number #1 rule when it comes to toddlers: Never leave them naked and alone. (The same rule applies to both Colin Farrell and Paris Hilton.)

While Jennifer was cleaning up the mess in the bathroom, she heard Joshua pad into the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of pee hitting lineoleum. The boy was peeing in the hall. Hey, at least he didn't choose the carpet, right?

Jennifer quickly finished cleaning up her six-year-old's mess to go attend to her 21-month-old's mess. Her Mommy Monitor must have been on overdrive, listening for her four-year-old in case she suddenly needed to pee on a floor, too. Jennifer took solace in the fact that she doesn't own a dog.

In the middle of the big Hazmat clean-up, Hubby called from Starbucks to "see how things are going." How are things going? Jennifer didn't have the time to tell him, what with all that peeing going on. He seemed a little peeved when Jennifer rushed him off the phone, but then, people don't normally pee on the floor at Starbucks, so how could he know what it was like?

After she cleaned it all up and put the kids to bed, she returned Hubby's phone call and had a good laugh. Jennifer swears that Hubby laughed harder, because he was thrilled not to be home. Also, to be employed at a place that serves Brazil Ipanema Bourbon™ coffee.

You're a good mom, Jennifer. You win a copy of MommaSaid's own Marybeth Hicks' "The Perfect World Inside My Minivan -- One Mom's Journey Through the Streets of Suburbia", plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.

Good news! Jennifer gave birth to a baby girl, Joy, on May 18th. Everyone is doing well, and so far, the baby has peed only in her diaper.

Rebecca Horvath of Bluff City, Tennessee


Rebecca with Emily, who, no doubt, wants to skip across that swinging bridge.

Rebecca is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for her T-Bone Thrill Ride.

Rebecca thought the other driver was going to stop. After all, most people stop at intersections, right? But not that day. That day, an 84-year old lady in a big old Buick didn't stop, and was heading right for the driver's side of Rebecca car, broadsiding it and sending it skidding across a four-lane highway.

Rebecca held her breath. She was sure that she wasn't going to get out of this in one piece. She feared for her life, and that of her daughter Emily, then 2 1/2, who was sitting in the backseat of the family's Toyota Camry.

Miraculously, her car came to a stop without hitting anyone or anything else. Rebecca whipped around to make sure that Emily was okay. Certainly her child would be frightened, if not hurt.

Uh, no.

Rebecca said she put on her brave mommy face and asked, "Are you okay?" Emily replied, "That was fun! Can we do that again, Mommy? Pleeeeease?!!!"

Note to Rebecca: You must be 48 inches tall to ride the The Thunderhead® at Dollywood. Vertical drop: 100 feet. Highest speed: 55 mph.

Luckily no one was hurt, not Rebecca, not Emily and not the 84-year-old lady in the big old Buick. Rebecca's Camry had $5500 worth of damage, but the other driver's insurance took care of that. After all, she's the one who didn't stop at the intersection.

Rebecca was relieved that Emily wasn't terrified by the incident. She reported, "At least I know she won't be scarred for life because of it." No, but you will be when Emily decides to join an Extreme Sport team. I'm thinking street luge would be perfect for her. "Do it again, Emily!"

You're a good mom, Rebecca. You win a copy of "What the Other Mothers Know: A Practical Guide to Child Rearing Told in a Really Nice, Funny Way That Won't Make You Feel Like a Complete Idiot the Way All Those Other Parenting Books Do," plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.




Kim Patterson of Madison, Georgia


Kim is smiling because she knows her dinner isn't burning...

Kim is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for her Ditched Dinner Dilemma.

Kim admits that she's had a hard time adjusting to having a third child in the house, ever since her son Jacob, now 10 months-old, was born. She's home all day, every day, with all three of her kids, including Jordan, 4 1/2, and Josh, 3 1/2, and it's a struggle to pack up just to go to grocery shopping, especially when the two oldest refuse to wear what Mom puts out for them.

Even at home, there's chaos, as Kim constantly feels pulled in three different directions -- and none of those directions seem to lead her to a cleaner house or piles of fresh, folded laundry. The hallway from her garage always looks like the family had been chased out in a big hurry.

On this day, the floor was covered in the kids' shoes, a pair of shorts Jordan decided to leave on the floor as she stripped coming in, a walker (baby included) and Josh's trucks and sippy cups that never made it to the sink.

One day, Kim decided to get a jump start on dinner, so she pre-heated the oven and put the chicken in the broiler pan... then she changed a diaper...then she broke up a fight between her older kids ... then she played with her kids to keep them from annoying each other ... then she put a load of laundry in the washer... then she cleaned up a mystery mess in the living room .. then she changed another diaper ... and then she found the chicken... sitting on the counter ... an hour later.

Whoops! I supposed the chicken was lucky. The rice and the veggies hadn't even made it that far.

Somehow, she managed to fast-track dinner so that it was ready by the time her husband came home. It almost looked as though she'd finally gotten it all together ... until Hubby hit the hallway from the garage, and tripped on all the stuff she never had time to get to while she was ditching dinner.

You're a good mom, Kim. You win a copy of Laura Day's "Welcome to Your Crisis: How to Use the Power of Crisis to Create the Life You Want," plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge. Maybe you can find your chicken dinner in the book.


Ashley Wiswell of Hobucken, North Carolina


Ashley's off explaining to her husband why she was
hugging another man in the name of motherhood.

Ashley is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for her Hello Daddy Diversion.

Ashley's husband, Mike, had just completed a seven-month deployment with the Coast Guard. So Ashley packed up their two kids, Bryce, 2, and Mikalya, 3 months, and headed down to the dock to meet Daddy.

As if it wasn't enough that Ashley had to keep an eye on her wandering toddler near a large body of water, she also had to try to feed her baby and talk to her boss on the phone at the same time. A BM3 in the Coast Guard herself, Ashley works in the areas of law enforcement and search and rescue cases. What she didn't know then was that she was about to be rescued, too, in a way.

Suddenly, Bruce broke free from holding onto the stroller and ran up to a man that he thought was his father. "I missed you, Daddy!" he shouted at the man in uniform.

Ashley tried to reel Bryce back in, but he would have none of it. As far as he was concerned, he was greeting Daddy after a long time apart.

By now, people were starting to stare. So Ashley pretended that the man, who looked a bit like Mike, was her husband. Thankfully he went along with the impromptu plan, hugging her and saying, "I'm so glad to see you again." He also picked Bryce up so other people would actually believe it... which is exactly the moment that Ashley's husband got off the ship and saw what was going on.

Ashley apologized to the nice man, and explained everything to Hubby before trying to cheer up a clearly confused Bryce with ice cream. No word on whether Mike got ice cream, too, but they all deserved a scoop or two after that episode.

You're a good mom, Ashley. You win a copy of Dr. Ann Dunnewold's new book, "Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box: Cut Yourself Some Slack (and Raise Great Kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting," plus a Housewife Award certificate for the fridge.




Brooke Vossler of Bend, Oregon


Gee, I don't know why Brooke would need any help. Slacker.

Brooke is our latest winner of The Housewife Awards™ for Just Saying Yes.

Like most moms, Brooke says, "I prefer to do the work myself and then get grumpy for not receiving any help that I never asked for." So when a disc in her neck starting bulging, she refused to see a doctor for four weeks, thinking, "Oh, it's just nothing. It will get better soon. Don't mind the disc bulging from my neck."

Why she thought it would just get better all on its own when she's got four boys to take care of, I don't know. But that's how moms think, right?

Why her disc went out on her in the first place, though, is obvious. Brooke frequently carries her seven-month-old baby, Silas, in his car seat. So, that's about 18 pounds, plus the weight of the car seat and probably a bottle, some toys, maybe some rocks, too. I dunno.

She's got a 30-pound three year-old son, Sam, who requires several "Mommy, Mommy!" lifts throughout the day. Then there are the books, toys and backpacks her sons Eli, 5, and Jake, almost 8, leave for her. And of course, the pots and pans in the kitchen. Oh, and changing the sheets on the top of the bunk bed because, she says, "that's impossible for a kid to do for himself." And putting wood on the fire, too. Oh, and did I mention that her hubby is a firefighter, so she's often on her own for 24 hours at at time?

I think I've slipped a disc just writing all that.

After Brooke's doctor told her she can't lift her children or do all that other stuff, she still tried to do it all for a week. And then, she said, "Yes."

She said "yes" to her friends from church helping her around the house. She said "yes" to them -- and to her mom, Glo and Naomi -- cooking dinner for her. "Yes" to friends vacuuming, mopping, making beds, cleaning bathrooms, playing with her children, carrying the baby, reaching things on high shelves, taking out the garbage, lugging laundry, washing dishes, f