That's What She Said

A milestone kind of day

2010-02-07T17:49:00.000-08:00

Today started off like any other day. A nice Sunday morning where the kids wake up before dawn demanding sustenance. But as the day winds down and I sit musing between football breaks in my annual ad-geek spectacle more commonly known as the Super Bowl, I realize that today was a milestone day with my girls, especially for my two-year-old.

Poor Morgan has always lived in her big sister's shadow. Not because we treat her any differently, but because her quiet thoughtfulness seems to pale in comparison to that of her older sister's flamboyance. Sofia has never surprised us with her wit or her accomplishments. She's always been such a smart girl and from early-on, it was clear that her baby sister would echo her brilliance. Morgan's is more of a slow burn wit. She is very perceptive and calls things like she sees them. She really listens to what people say, especially her big sister.

Today Morgan went all day at home without her beloved paci; a pretty major accomplishment for her. The pacifier has been a presence with both of our girls. Never a big deal to us, we have chosen the route of gently encouraging them to choose their own way. We encourage Morgan to give up the paci for the day, but we don't fight her about it or pressure her. Today, I hid her paci - right around the time of her mid-morning sleepies and told her she could have it back at nap time. Then she went all day without it and when I gave it back to her when she asked for it tonight, the look of glee on her face said it all...old habits die hard. Indeed.

The girls played together all day pretty much without incident. Well, a little crayon on the wall, but overall no injuries. They also played in Morgan's room all day, which they loved because of the two bright windows that flood the room with sunlight and a fresh perspective. Plus, it's about a third the size of Sofia's room, so it takes me less time to clean it after they destroy it! Tonight Sofia even cleaned it up - all by herself! Another milestone!

This evening as I read the girls their bedtime stories we came across a book about Valentine's Day. As I read the story of a little girl who makes valentines for all her family, we came across a part about the girl making a card for her baby brother and taping it in his crib. Tonight as I put Morgan to bed in her crib, I sat her down inside and as I was fumbling with her cd player she says (paci in mouth), "This is a baby bed." Sensing opportunity, I replied, "Well, yes it is a baby bed." Then I asked her tentatively, "Do you want to sleep in your big girl bed?" And she's all, "Yes!" and bouncy about it! So I moved all her buddies across the room to her new bed and pulled down the never-used covers, I snuggled her up, kissed her goodnight, and I'll be damned if she's not sleeping in there right now!

Heck, Now I'm wondering if I should put her potty seat in her room too and maybe I'll save some money on diapers, but I suppose it's best not to press my luck!

Being two is really hard. You're just now learning what your emotions and impulses mean and how to vocalize them. You have to get rid of pacifiers, learn to get dressed and eat with a fork and use the toilet and brush your teeth. So many of life's little things we do every single day we learn when we're two. She will always be my baby despite her "I'm not a baby, I'm a big girl" protests. I am not planning on any more infants in my near future, so to watch this one grow up is a little tough for me, but exciting too! I guess it never gets easier to watch your kids grow up. An inevitable reality, but a harsh one nonetheless.

The moral of the story is, tomorrow, my girls get cupcakes for being so special and such big girls! And maybe there will be one in there for me too. ;o)

To Vampire or not to Vampire...Forget the subject! It's all about the writing man!

2009-09-18T07:03:00.000-07:00

I started writing this blog as a response to my friend Kaye Dacus' Friday blog post. Kaye is a professional writer of Christian Historical and Modern Romance novels and a dear, dear friend of mine. You can view Kaye's blog here.

Harris' first Sookie novel, "Dead Until Dark" was written three years before Meyer's "Twilight" and the similarities are staggering, which as an avid reader and writer, I find disturbing but not surprising. Happens all the time, right? Now I will readily admit that most vampire novels are steeped in the same folklore, much like how most chick-lit novels house a heroine who is a writer or magazine editor or something of that sort...it gets old. All these vampire writers do is rip each other off, but what makes them different from any other genre?

Meyer successfully wrote one of the most real and romantic lead male characters in the history of fiction. Now many may want to debate this and might want to say Edward does not compare with Darcy or Heathcliff or Rochester, but I believe you would be hard pressed to go against the throngs of women world-wide who are admittedly in love with this fictional character. Isn't the goal of the writer to create relatable characters? On the flip side, however, Meyer's Bella is one of the most pathetic heroines ever written. I have always taken issue with Meyer for creating an 17-year-old female character who would be willing to literally throw her life away for a guy...or even worse, in order to fulfill her carnal desires with said guy. Maybe it's the feminist in me, but if Meyer's goal was to promote abstinence until marraige, she completely missed the mark. Sure millions of impressionable girls! Go ahead and get married at 19 & have a baby immediately! That would be a GREAT idea!

Charlaine Harris' novels are smart, funny, intensely romantic, sexy, frightening at times and she has an incredible grasp for how to write a southern Louisiana spitfire with a knack for getting into trouble. Her mysteries are always a surprise and are quite clever. She incorporates vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, faeries, demons and more...all who walk among us. They are worth a read and even nine books in, I am hooked and have successfully hooked many of my friends.

Harris writes male characters with ease and captures longing and pride like some of the best romance writers I have ever read. She's also a hero in the fanboy world, which speaks volumes - she has a male audience! Of course, you can attribute that to True Blood as well, which graphically, is a spectacular representation of the characters and their Bon Temps, LA home. Of course, Hollywood loves to change things and True Blood is no exception.

Now Meyer wrapped her Twilight Saga in four novels. Then when the first film was in production she decided to go back and rewrite Twilight from Edward's perspective (Twilight was written from Bella's perspective) in a novel entitled "Midnight Sun." She wrote the first 11 chapters and gave three copies of the first draft away. One to her sister, one to Robert Pattinson (actor) and the final to an unnamed source. Someone leaked the novel on the Internet. Meyer proceeded to throw a childlike fit on her fans and chastize them for even reading it on the Internet when it leaked. As punishment to her fans, Meyer decided not to finish the novel. She said she was so disgusted that someone had done this to her that she just couldn't write it anymore. She then released it herself on her website for the period of about a week so that her fans could read it legitimately. I personally was not one who read this draft. Mainly because I was so disgusted at Meyer's treatment of her fan base that "she is dead to me" now. This woman made a mint from her fans and then she abandoned them. Nothing but a tease, kind of like some of her teenaged characters.

This poses a question: As a writer, at what point do you feel you have a responsibility to your fan base? You have written a series. People love it. Your fans now have a vested interest. You start out writing for yourself. At what point do you write for them? Meyer "sold out" to her fans, which, let's face it, is the ultimate goal, right? But then she abandoned them. What if J.K. Rowling would have done the same thing? I think that if you choose to write a novel or a series of novels and you choose to do it in the public eye, then you owe it to your fans to follow through with promises you make to them. We have all heard of reclusive writers who put out incredible works of fiction and then never utter a word in the public about them. They just want you to read it. If you like it, great, if you don't they don't really care. Or, perhaps public scrutiny is what they fear.

To write anything is an intensely personal thing. To share your deepest imagination with the world is an incredibly courageous thing. Whether you are writing about historical romance figures or vampires, if you reach an audience, rather than your books collecting dust or ending up in the $1 bargain bin, then I think you've won!

It's easy to criticize what you have not read. I challenge you to read it and then decide.

Cheers!

2001 - More than a Memory

2009-09-11T07:58:00.001-07:00

I visited Manhattan for the first time in 2000. I was with a group of collegues on a training mission to Parsippany, NJ (woo hoo!) and we took the train into the city for three whole hours. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and then to Battery Park at night (stupid) hoping in vain for a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. Later we took an $80 cab back to NJ and eventually made our way home to Colorado without a second thought.

In June of 2001, I began my real love affair with the great city of Manhattan. As many tourists do, I hopped on the cheesy red double-decker bus and set out across the city in the blazing summer heat with my husband and our friends, the brothers Tieman.

There was a mirrored walkway that linked the towers. A popular photo opp for tourists, from the top deck of the bus, you could ride under the tunnel, look up and take your photo with the reflection of the towers looming overhead. Yeah, we were those dorks.

I lived in Denver, Colorado back then. Nature's playground. Until I moved to Denver, Atlanta was the largest city I had ever visited, so one might imagine how amazed I was to suddenly find myself in serious daily gridlock, with access to all the arts, entertainment, and scenery I could handle. Still, when the chance came for me to join my husband on the tail end of a business trip to the Big Apple, I jumped.

We stayed at the Belvedere right between the Restaurant and Theatre Districts in midtown Manhattan. We ate a rediculous amount of food, walked about a million miles and saw "Kiss Me Kate," "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," and "Rent" on Broadway. Back then shows on the Great White Way were actually affordable and I found the people of Manhattan to be very friendly and accommodating. I felt safe.

My next visit to NYC came a year later in late June of 2002. Ground Zero was still a gated-off gaping hole in the ground and the City held a stillness that certainly wasn't there the year before. To call it melancholy is a complete understatement. The energy was gone. The bustle was still there, but it just wasn't the same. Tourists posed for photos with men and women in service uniforms and openly hugged them or shook their hands and thanked them for their service or expressed condolences for the unspeakable tragedy and loss which befell their home and undoubtedly their coworkers and loved-ones.

We happened to be there during the Gay Pride parade that year. The gay and lesbian service men and women all marched together in the parade to waves of cheers and tears. A surreal moment to witness, for sure.

I can't begin to imagine what it was like to experience such a tragedy as a New Yorker. As an American, each morning of September 11 each year I will, like so many others, stop to reflect on where I was, what I was doing. I didn't have children then. We hadn't been in our first house for too long at that point and I was rushing out the door to get to work when I flipped on the television and watched in confusion as smoke poured from the building. Not long after my 45 minute commute to work ended, the first tower had fallen. It was like watching something out of Hollywood. Terrified and grief-stricken, watching New Yorkers flee for their lives and gasp for air. And it was real. There were real people in there.

A sad day of reflection, for sure as I sit at my desk, thinking about what happened on this day eight years ago. I have visited Manhattan frequently since that time - now less as a tourist and more as a fan of the city so many of my friends now call home. I am glad that my first NYC experience was before the fall, but I am sad that so many lives will never be the same in the aftermath. Today when I see images of the twin towers in old movies set in New York there is always a tightening of my hearstrings. Maybe this is how the generation before us feels about the day John F. Kennedy was shot or the way the younger generation will feel about the day Michael Jackson died.

Maybe there is hope for the future.

1984

2009-06-26T06:51:00.000-07:00

Between the years of 1983 and 1984 I was 9 and in the 4th grade. Those years were an amazing time for entertainment. The weekly top-40 radio show was full of music that is now referred to as "classic rock" or "pop." Madonna's "Like a Virgin" was climbing the charts...my friend Kelly and I dressed up like Madonna for Halloween that year; lots of lace, black and neon...can't believe our parents went for that. It was the year Cyndi Lauper wow'd us with her She's So Unusual album - girls STILL just wanna have fun, time after time, it seems. Duran Duran had "Hungry Like a Wolf" and Prince's 1999 album was all over the place. Movies at the time included now classic titles such as The Big Chill, Risky Business, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, A Christmas Story, National Lampoons Vacation, Flashdance and Footloose, two of my personal favorites at the time. And of course, there was the enigma known as Thriller.

I remember being totally freaked out the first time I saw Thriller on Friday Night Videos. My parents would let me stay up late to watch the likes of Madonna gyrating in a wedding gown, Cyndi and that weird wrestler dude with the cheek piercing, The Romantics' "Talking in Your Sleep" video and the final video of the night was ALWAYS, ALWAYS MJ's Thriller. Thriller transformed a music video into a short film. It was amazing and set the stage for so many artists who have come since that time. I still can't get the sound of Vincent Price's eeeevvvvil laugh out of my head.

Now I first knew of Michael Jackson from my parents' vinyl of Off the Wall, one of my favorite albums even still today. This is where he gave us "Rock with You" and "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough," which I shamelessly admit has been my ringtone for the last year. Michael's collaboration with Quincy Jones led him straight into Thriller, with that crazy fold-out album cover with his gnarly sticking-out wrist bones, Thriller was among the albums that defined my generation.

I distintly remember my classmate, Danny Baseheart in his red & black MJ Thriller jacket (he was the only person I knew whose parents actually bought him one and we were all totally jealous), I can still see him in my mind...doing the moonwalk at recess with his highwater school uniform pants, white socks and broken-in loafers, MJ jacket and Kevin Bacon Footloose hairdo. (I bet a lot of my friends from childhood who read this can remember the exact same moment).

Michael Jackson was golden. He won everything, he danced like a fool, he could sing the ABC's and it would sound good (wait a minute...he DID!), and he was a member of one of the weirdest, most jacked-up Hollywood families in history. But he was arguably the Elvis of my generation. I bet they blacked the lights in Tokyo last night.

I won't even touch the last decade of poor MJ's life. Suffice it to say, that man has been through enough to drive anyone nuts and/or give anyone a heart attack. Today the reports have speculated that his cardiac arrest (not the same thing as a heart attack, I have learned - thank you Sanjay Gupta) might have been caused by a toxic combination of prescription drugs, a la Anna Nicole Smith. Either way, it is a tragic loss for music lovers everywhere. But MJ's music will live on and on, much like the memory of Weird Al Yanchovic's rendition of "Fat," a rediculous parody of MJ's "Bad," which in all reality was a parody in and of itself.

RIP MJ. Thanks for the music and the memories man.

I Rate Jon & Kate

2009-06-23T07:24:00.000-07:00

Back a couple of months ago, bored and with nothing else to do...ok, too lazy to do anything else, I caught an episode of Jon & Kate +8 on Lifetime or whatever channel it's on. I had never seen it before and evidently I was catching episodes that were old, as the babies were around two-years-old at the time. I was completely enthralled with their family dynamic and intrigued at how they were able to pull off raising eight kids. I have two kids of my own and want to go rock in a corner sometimes, so I can't even imagine what eight would be like.

Right around the time I saw my first episode was when the press came out about the possibility that Jon, husband and father of 8 children had been unfaithful to his wife. Of course, a new season of the show immediately followed all of this press. Jon feels trapped, Kate says he resents her success with her childrens' books hitting shelves and book tours taking her away from her family, etc.

Now I am a working Mom. I work mostly because I have to and partially because I want to. I have a great job and work with great people and I suffer every single day with "Mommy's Guilt" that I wear like an unseen scarlet letter, a badge so many women (and Daddy's too) wear to work as a regulation component of their Mommy uniforms. Being a Mother is a wonderful, but often thankless job, but for the vast majority of Moms out there, it is a job that we chose for ourselves. The Gosselins chose to have eight kids...now it seems they are falling apart before our eyes.

I remember thinking about Kate, as I watched her visit the grocery store with 6 kids and then return home to prepare lunch for them. She always makes it a point to resentfully add in her little couch confessional that she is doing things "by herself" "with no help," like she deserves a medal or something. I recall a couple of episodes where she makes an effort to take her twins special places for their birthday and to single them out...an effort I make every day...how to make my 4-year-old feel special and understand that I have more than enough room in my heart for both she and her sister. Then I think about those 8 kids.

I have no doubt that they are loved and cared for by many more people than just their parents. There have to be all kinds of caregivers going on there. How else would Jon and Kate have so much time to sit and report in on their daily activities (bedtime hours not withstanding). As I watched the most recent season premiere I felt so sad for those little kids. Here it was their 5th birthday party and Kate was whining about paparazzi following them everywhere. You would think that the moment guys with cameras started following them around as parents they would say, "You know what, this is clearly NOT what is best for our kids," and call it a show. But no, they forged ahead, displaying materialism at its finest, or lowest possible point, depending on how you look at it.

I had decided this show was not for me when I determined that it was beneath my threshold to watch a marraige fall apart before my very eyes. That is not my business and the prospect of any marraige ending is devistating to all involved. Yet my DVR continued recording episode after episode, automatically changing the channel over when the show began each week. I walked through the living room a couple of weeks ago to see Kate at a spa, then Kate eating cake at Charm City Cakes (Home of Food TV's "Ace of Cakes") and asking herself (and ultimately answering) random questions. "Is this cake the best ever? Yes." "Do I want to ask myself lots of questions? Absolutely." Then last week I happen through the living room to see Jon getting a new custom motorcycle and Kate gets a Vespa that she donates somewhere....aw, how nice. Um, where are the kids again???

It has been speculated (and blogged about by Gosselin family members) that Jon and Kate have made a list of material things they want and gave them to the network and these things have become the topics of their shows. Jon wants hairplugs, Kate wants to have her teeth whitened. Now Jon gets a motorcycle and whines about how he had 8 kids at age 27 and Kate berates Jon repeatedly for not remembering to put her purse in the car. Now, the network is capitalizing on their marital problems by "this week, a very special announcement" kinds of messages. How about Jon and Kate go to marraige counseling or even Kate takes the kids to the dentist or to their first day of kindergarten - both would be way more appropriate not to mention more entertaining. Heck, even the episode about the kids' birthday party shows dad showing up in his expensive sportscar (the same one he showed off to the 23-year-old schoolteacher he allegedly screwed around with) and then hanging back alone like he could care less.

So now they are getting divorced, and yet they plan to go on with the show. http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/23/jon.and.kate.divorce/index.html
I read last night that Jon is considering moving to Manhattan and moving into Trump Tower. Really? Your show made you wealthy enough to start over on THAT level? You prick. This guy should be ashamed of himself.

As a Mom myself, I know that you have to be a tyrant sometimes to run your household. It makes you the bad guy sometimes, but that's what you have to do in order to make decisions that are best for your kids. I won't begrudge Kate that fact at all. I can't imagine how hard it must be, but they have money and people to help them when so many of us don't. I will say that she treats Jon like dirt, but never (in the episodes I've seen) has he stood up for himself. He's just left looking like a fool on national television, and she looks like a total bitch, so I suppose they're even.

Reality TV is really sick stuff. But more than anything, it has to say something about the character of parents who would display their own vanity at the expense of their own family each week. These are selfish people motivated by money and not by what is best for their kids. Pretty sad stuff.

Busting out some poetry

2009-05-05T07:24:00.000-07:00

I have tons of old lyrics and poetry that I hosted on my MySpace blog once upon a time. I was going through some and found one from November 2006 that made me laugh at the memory that inspired it. Thought I'd share it with the lot of ya.

November 4, 2006 - Saturday

Ode to the Mommy Predator

Minding my own business

Playing with my kid

Too cold to play outside today

so I thought we'd take it in

Lots of rugrats running 'round

Of all shapes and colors

My oh my I really hope they don't run my baby over

His child was lying on the slide

pushing other kids aside

While he sat there with his wife

Oblivious to the childrens' cries

I didn't think it was my place to ask his kid to share

Took a child getting hurt to get dad over there

"Now son, you need to share," he said

Shooting me a sympathetic glance

"Why not go play over there," he said

"Give the other kids a chance."

I noticed the big production of telling Mom goodbye

Immediately followed by Dad's stares the moment I caught his eye

Playing peek-a-boo and taking pictures with my phone

I got a sinking feeling that we were not alone

"I bring him here every weekend," he said

I replied "We've been here once or twice."

"Well, that is the weekends I have him," he said

Searching my left hand with his eyes

While his desperate attempt at a pick-up line was pitiful at best

I felt sorry for his kid, as his Mommy had just left

With all the talk of pedophiles, molestors and kidnappers

I never considered I'd be the one fending off attackers

As I suited up my little girl and headed for the door

I wondered why no one warns against the Mommy Predator

The evolution of real time friendships

2009-04-28T09:19:00.000-07:00

I learned today that a former work associate is pregnant. VERY Pregnant. With a boy, no less. The other day I learned that one of my dearest friends had become engaged while on vacation with her boyfriend. I also learned that one of my other close friends was about to move to Japan with her family. Weddings, engagements, babies, job losses, deaths, you name it. Where have I learned about all of these things? Well on FACEBOOK, of course!

I had a conversation with my husband several months ago during which I marveled about reconnecting on said uberpopular social networking site with some old college friends: "How on earth did we keep up with each other before Facebook?" Intended as a rhetorical question, he responded with a pretty sadly simple-but-true answer:

"We didn't."

I was never much for phone conversations personally. A lucky few, including a couple of close friends, my sister and mother would get a weekly or semi-monthly phone call from me to check in and see what's happening. Since having kids, my phone conversations are pretty well limited to my commute to and from work every day and pretty much never on the weekends. My friends and I have to schedule phone conversations, most of which never happen because life takes the place of this archaec form of personal communication.

I've since replaced the personal contact of lunches and phone calls with quick Facebook transmittals. I might not have time for a full-out phone conversation, by I can squeeze in a quick email, photo comment or status update every day. So can everyone else it seems.

I know now that my friends in Seattle just went to Mexico (jealous). I know when my friends have happy hours and don't invite me (you guys suck). I know that my friend in TX just went to a Mother-Son Dance with her super-cute kid. I was able to check in with my cousin on the status of my aunt's recent heart attack and view pictures of the bridal shower I couldn't attend last weekend (sorry Steph). I even know what my co-workers are doing via tweet posts. Heck, I even get PAID to maintain social networking profiles and other e-com sites for my alma mater, Western Kentucky University.

I seem to be better friends with people online than I was ever able to be in person, so have all my friendships evolved from real friendships into real-TIME friendships? Yes, it certainly seems so.

As much as I crave the one-on-one connection that my friends and family members give me during our all too infrequent get togethers, I am grateful that social networking has enabled me to at least know they're ok on a day-to-day basis. Photos of new babies, new hair-dos, new husbands. Status reports of what you ate for breakfast and how bad your head aches today (hey, I'm guilty of that one). Would we tell each other (and 200 others) all this stuff if we were face-to-face? Maybe in some cases. Still we love it and it is a vouyeristic pastime for many.

Keep those posts coming folks. I want to know that you're a fan of bacon! I want to know that your top five albums include Olivia Newton John's Greatest Hits Vol. 1 (oh wait, that's me.). I needed to know that Belle is your Disney character. If I didn't know all this stuff, I'd just miss you, so keep it coming.

Loves,

CBelle

Support the Arts in our Schools

2009-04-22T07:04:00.000-07:00

My Mother-in-law is a high school teacher. Depending upon where you live those three words can be loaded with all kinds of meaning. High. School. Teacher. It might mean that she is overworked and underpaid (ding!), that on some days she fears for her life (ding, ding!), or perhaps that she has seen some things from both students and parents that most of us would find disgusting in all senses of the word (emphatic dinging!).

I will never forget the conversation we had one day about how the state had cut the budget for the art program in public schools. What did they do with it? Did they buy new textbooks? No. Did they sponsor student outreach programs? Wrong again. No, turns out they beefed-up the budget for high school athletic programs, of course. This coming from a school district that gives mandatory days off from school for the annual state basketball championship games. Not just for the coaches and teams that are actually involved in the tournaments, for EVERYONE.

Turns out this budget cut was a direct result of the ever-so-popular and highly effective "No Child Left Behind Act," which originally intended to increase performance levels in American K-12 schools in mathematics, reading and science, leaving little room for arts, social studies and foreign language programs. Inner city schools and schools with high minority enrollment were the hardest hit, the Act simply exacerbating an existing problem of low budgetary resources and inadequate teacher education.

School years are "the formative years," right? So isn't this the time that students discover their love for art, music, drama, language arts, photography, etc? If these programs are cut, then what's left? It is a proven fact that kids who study music at a young age have higher scores in math and science. Not to mention enhanced concentration skills. What about art? The discovery of this creative outlet can keep a lot of endangered kids out of trouble, and perhaps even encourage them to go to college.

Not all kids are lucky enough to have supportive parents or resources to buy supplies needed to pursue their talents. Cameras, computers, art supplies and musical instruments are all in short supply. With budget cuts occurring as frequently as they do (I can speak of this firsthand as an employee of a state university), where is the hope for helping kids not only realize their dreams but in helping them figure out they dreamed them in the first place? I think maybe the hope lies with our teachers and in those willing to volunteer their time and resources to help kids of all ages tap into the right hemisphere of their brains.

I suppose the high school for which my Mother-in-law teaches is lucky to have her. While she is educated and experienced as an English teacher, she has also taken on the role of running the Arts and Humanities program, which includes some practical teachings as well as things like basic art history and theatre appreciation. Still, there is more we can do. Check out the links I have included at the end of this blog to learn more and in the meantime, do what you can to support art and music programs in schools, whether it be your own kid's school or otherwise.

http://vh1savethemusic.com/sites/default/files/PDFs/25%20things%20web_small.pdf

http://www.americansforthearts.org/networks/arts_education/arts_education_004.asp

http://plays.about.com/od/playwrights/a/supportplays.htm

http://www.supportmusic.com/

http://www.schoolmusicmatters.com/

Funny kid story

2009-03-20T06:48:00.000-07:00

As the parent of a 4.5 year old and a 1.5 year old, I have plenty of funny kid stories to share. I suppose most of them are "you had to be there" moments, but they are funny to me. Since I am paranoid that I constantly go on and on about my kids, as I'm sure I do, I don't share every story, but Sofia pulled a good one last night that I'd love to share if you'll just indulge me:

John was reading Sofia her bedtime stories last night and she had chosen a Barney (as in of the annoying purple dinosaur persuasion) book about the alphabet. I am not sure exactly where this book came from, as we have inherited so many along the way and that is one of very few kids' shows that I don't allow in our house, but I digress.....

John and Sofia were reading this Barney ABC Animals book - one zoo animal for each letter of the alphabet. Rather than reading the actual words in the book, John was sort of using the book as flash cards and letting Sofia say "A for alligator", etc. On occasion, they would come to a letter and Sofia would get the animal wrong, like, the letter "J" was affiliated with the picture of a jaguar, but Fia would say "J for leopard," because she doesn't understand the difference. Well, they came to the letter "W" and there was a picture of a walrus. Sofia says "W for seal!" and John says, "No, that's a walrus." Sofia repeats "Oh, a walrus," then she thinks about it for a minute and says, "Oh, I know, like purizon walrus, I've seen that commercial!"

We laughed for the rest of the night.

Enjoy your weekend everybody!

Basketball, Schmasketball...just kiddin'!

2009-03-17T09:32:00.000-07:00

I think the first year I ever cared about college basketball was somewhere around the spring of 1996. I was a senior at Western Kentucky University at the time and my boyfriend and his family "bled blue," meaning the Kentucky Wildcats' Blue, of course. It helped that "we" had the winning team that year, which only added to the excitement of the SEC and NCAA tournaments. As a college basketball virgin, I could not have given it up to a better team at a more opportune time.

More than anything, the camaraderie that came along with experiencing those basketball games sucked me in. That was the first year that I really got to know my future Mother-in-Law and Brother-in-Law and his buddies, hoodlums that they were at the time. Looking back to the evenings and weekends camped-out in the cramped upstairs landing of the house on the corner of High and Broadway in Bowling Green, I smile at the recollection of the slew of nail-biting wins and losses that were few and far between.

We were lucky enough to have Rick Pitino back then, the shaman of basketball. He led us to victory in '96 before taking off to try to revitalize the Celtics and then heading back to Kentucky doggie-style in 2001 to lead Louisville through eight pretty successful seasons. Hero or villain, you be the judge. I never much cared, but I can say UK Basketball just hasn't been the same since, even with a 1998 championship win under Tubby Smith.

I knew more about NCAA basketball in those few years than ever before and have paid more attention since, albeit not nearly as much attention as I once did; I blame life and crappy seasons for that. I guess I really stopped caring (in the full sense of the word) when those with whom I loved sharing victories and defeats with dissipated. Reality is, people move on and priorities shift. We always had March to hold us together. On that we could rely.

So this year, as we cheer on the Cats through the (ahem) NIT tournament and even more so the Sun Belt champs, WKU (GO TOPS!) in their visit to the NCAA, remember how March holds us together and see if you too can make an effort to make that feeling of camaraderie last all year long.

Thought for the week: You HAVE GOT to be kidding me?!

2008-12-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

So I read this article today on MSNBC.com about the fact that "Joe the Plumber" was interviewed on Glenn Beck and said that he was "appalled" at the fact that John McCain supported the auto bailout. So much so that he is withdrawing his support from McCain.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28160772/

Dontcha think it's a little late?

But the real point here is: Why the hell are we still giving this loser any airtime at all? Glenn Beck must be pretty desperate for news....might want to get used to it, Glenn. Seems as though the next several years might be a little slow for your sect.

Dude has stretched out his 15 minutes longer than anyone in the history of planted political farces. Ok Joe. We're gonna put you out there and subsequently tear you down, but you'll emerge with a newfound credibility as a key conservative talking-head and a book deal.

Riiigggghhhttt.

This is what's wrong with America. Shame on you MSNBC.

My Review of Fisher-Price Chatter Phone - Pink

2008-11-09T10:30:00.001-08:00

Originally submitted at Toys R Us

Kids love to chat on the phone and Chatter Phone is a classic, roll-along pull-toy with a friendly face, and eyes that move up and down when the toy is pulled along. This version has adorable pink-colored accents and is a Toys R Us Exclusive!

Cute, but cord too short

By Cbelle from Woodbury, KY on 11/9/2008

Pros: High Quality, Portable, Engaging

Cons: Difficult to Use, Poor Design

Best Uses: Entertainment, Learning

Describe Yourself: Parent Of Two Or More Children

My daughter received this as a gift for her first birthday. She plays with it a lot, but when she is sitting on the floor, the cord that connects the receiver to the phone is so short that she has to pick up the whole phone to say "Hello?" Quick fix, cut the cord off. In theory, it makes sense why Fisher Price would have such a short cord - strangulation, etc., but it has the long cord to drag the phone around with, so that argument really doesn't stand up. Maybe a good design revision might be a retractable cord? Still, it is a cute phone and we love listening to our daughter pick it up and say "Ooh?" This is a good classic toy to have in the box.

(legalese)

My Review of LeapFrog Word Whammer Fridge Phonics

2008-11-09T10:24:00.001-08:00

Originally submitted at Toys R Us

With LeapFrog's Word Whammer Fridge Phonics, you can create over 325 three-letter words with magnetic letters that sing and teach! These interactive, magnetic letters are based on the LeapFrog Talking Words Factory video. What's a Word Whammer? It's a machine that teaches kids lette...

A fun learning toy!

By Cbelle from Woodbury, KY on 11/9/2008

Pros: Lots of Fun, Educational, Interactive, Durable

Cons: Heavy

Best Uses: Older Children, Young Children, Indoor, Entertainment

Describe Yourself: Parent Of Two Or More Children

My daughter received this as a gift when she was 2 and had just started learning her letters. Now she is almost 4 and is actually using this item for its intended purpose. She loves to put words together and hunt for the letters on the fridge. She plays with this primarily when I am preparing dinner for her and it is the perfect busy toy during this typically whiny time. It has multiple settings and volume control, which are all good features. My only complaint is that we have lost a letter or two (although it does come with multiples of commonly used letters), we have tried to order an additional letter pack and that has been hard to find. Seems like with as many products as LeapFrog has that use these letters there should be extra letter packs out there somewhere. My only real complaint is that the word whammer itself is a but heavy and slides down the fridge if she touches it too hard. That might not be the case on more recent models - ours is the old one, not the one that looks like a jet. Over all, I highly recommend this and all LeapFrog products. We have several and have never been disappointed with any of them in any category.

(legalese)

My Review of Fisher-Price My First Dollhouse - Caucasian

2008-11-09T10:14:00.001-08:00

Originally submitted at Toys R Us

The My First Dollhouse has a fresh young approach for a 2 year old's introduction to a dollhouse. The dollhouse features 5 rooms: Kitchen, Living Room, Bathroom, Parents Bedroom and Nursery. There is also additional play space with a balcony, patio and an

A great first dollhouse!

By Cbelle from Woodbury, KY on 11/9/2008

Pros: Realistic, Long Lasting, Interactive, Easy to Clean, Durable

Best Uses: Young Children, Small Children, Imaginative Play, Older Children

Describe Yourself: Parent of Two or More Children

We bought this dollhouse for our daughter's 2nd birthday and now she is almost 4. She loves it as much now as she did then AND her younger sister, who just turned one loves it too. This was really the first toy they actually played together, which was neat. The pieces are not too small and they are durable. We also bought the baby nursery extra set and the big sister set. The complaint I have heard a lot is that all the furniture does not fit in the house all at once, and while this is true, my girls don't seem to notice or mind. They have also added their Fisher Price Little People to the family and have a ball playing with everything together. I do wish there was a car of some sort. That would be a cool feature.

(legalese)

My Review of Fisher-Price Amazing Animals™ Spinnin' Around Musical Zoo

2008-11-09T10:03:00.001-08:00

Originally submitted at Toys R Us

The Amazing Animals™ Spinnin' Around Musical Zoo by Fisher-Price is a zoo themed activity center loaded with fun play for baby. The zoo comes with four Amazing Animal babies, the elephant, zebra and monkey will each reward baby with a clicking sound as they turn their heads & the sco...

Really not suited for older babies

By Cbelle from Woodbury, KY on 11/9/2008

Pros: Easy to Construct, Easy To Clean, Durable

Cons: Few Neat Features, Bulky, Easily Outgrown

Best Uses: Crawlers, Independent sitters, Toddlers

Describe Yourself: Parent of Two or More Children

My daughter received this for her first birthday. I believe it is better suited for younger babies who are independent sitters. It has two songs, large pieces that move around, but that are really not good to chew on. The lights and movement are ok, but this toy is kind of a one-trick-pony. It gets boring quickly and she moves on to something else. Now this could be because she is too old for this toy. I think for babies who are just developing dexterity and sensory movements, etc, this is a good toy. But for an older baby who is learning to walk, etc, this is just boring. It does have an on/off/volume button that is cool.

(legalese)

My Review of Fisher-Price Go Baby Go! Bounce & Spin Zebra

2008-11-09T09:56:00.001-08:00

Originally submitted at Toys R Us

This fun and colorful Go Baby Go! Bounce & Spin Zebra from Fisher-Price really gets Baby moving when he or she bounces up and down and spins round and round! This toy encourages physical development through bouncing, spinning and having a ball. The lively zebra's fun sounds, delightful son...

A great upgrade from an exersaucer

By Cbelle from Woodbury, KY on 11/9/2008

Pros: Great Features, Entertaining, Easy to Construct, Durable, Lots of Fun, Easy To Clean

Cons: Bulky

Best Uses: Babies who pull up, Independent sitters, Toddlers

Describe Yourself: Parent of Two or More Children

We just purchased this item for our daughter for her first birthday. She LOVES to bounce in her Exersaucer, but she's quickly outgrowing it, so we thought this would be a good upgrade since she's also learning to stand and walk on her own. She is not standing independently yet, but this toy is sturdy enough that she can pull up on it and she learned quickly how to get on the zebra and bounce away. She also likes the lights and music, although all of the components together seem to throw her a bit. A great feature to handle this problem is the on-off button for the lights and sound, as well as the volume button. It was easy to put together (my husband didn't swear even once!) and serves as a good blockade to keep her out of the TV cabinet! It doesn't take up as much room as the Exersaucer, so I highly recommend it as a fun upgrade.

Also, it supports up to 40 lbs, so it really isn't much of a problem that we can't keep our 3-year-old daughter off of it either, although we do have to remind her not to bounce too hard.

(legalese)

Hello Friends. My two cents on kids and politics.

2008-11-02T18:08:00.000-08:00

So, I have not blogged in nearly four months. Not because I haven't been sufficiently inspired. Ah, on the contrary, but rather because I have been wrapped up in writing my first novel, taking care of the kiddos and I've been completely sucked into MSNBC pretty much 24/7 waiting for this election to take place.

Now anyone who knows me knows what team I root for, so I am not going to bore anyone giving my 2 cents about political issues, because you all know where I stand. I will say that lately our oldest daughter, Sofia has been ASKING to watch the news because she thinks network primetime tv is "scary." ("I don't like this show Daddy, turn on the news please.") If she weren't nearly four-years-old, it might be easier for me to explain to her that the news is the scariest show of all. But I guess there are worse things than to have a preschooler who knows who "Arack Obama" is. I mean this kid was in the womb listening to CNN on XM during the last election, so it really didn't surprise me when she started asking about the men she saw on the news all the time.

She first noticed Obama on the news several months ago and recognized the man on tv from the cover of his book, "The Audacity of Truth," which John was reading at the time and asked, "Who's that man?" So we told her who he was and that he was running for president. We also told her who John McCain was and that he was also running for president. We intentionally did not teach our little repeater to say "Democrat" nor would we have tolerated it had my conservative in-laws taught her to say "Republican." I did not buy my girls "My Mama Says Obama" t-shirts, tempting as they were and I absolutely will never teach either of my girls that people are "wrong" for their political beliefs, even though in my educated opinion, they might very well be.

What is "wrong" is parents who teach their children to discriminate. Several months ago, I heard my 13-year-old cousin repeat her Dad's words in calling Barack Obama "the antichrist." My daughter's dance teacher wore a t-shirt to class last week that read "Read my lipstick - vote McCain/Palin." Then I heard her young daughter laughing telling another parent that her dad had bought a "NO-bama" bumper sticker. My first impulse was to buy a "Obama Mama" t-shirt to wear to this week's class, but then I thought better of it.

Kids don't know any better, but they're not stupid either. My three-almost-four-year-old does not know how crucial this election is to life as we know it. Is it right for us to teach our little kids to say "Go Obama!" or "Hooray McCain!" This isn't a sports team we're talking about. This is THEIR future we're gambling with here. Maybe we should let them be innocent of the reality that lies ahead for now until they are old enough to make up their own minds about what issues speak to them and what passions fuel their interests.

If you feel compelled to educate your children about the issues, then by all means educate them. Tell them who you are voting for and more importantly tell them WHY. Take them to the voting precinct with you. Take them in the booth. Let them see the democratic process at work.

I was watching this video on YouTube of this kid walking into a McCain/Palin rally in Ohio spouting racist remarks against Obama. This kind of garbage is everywhere folks, and you know where this kid got it? At home. So as you are explaining to your kids your reasons for choosing your candidate, tell the truth and listen to yourself. Your truth might surprise you. Is that the truth you want your kids to emulate? Sadly for some, it seems it is.

Please go vote on Tuesday. Exercise your right and set a good example for kids everywhere.

Seven Days...So Many Ways....

2008-07-19T21:00:00.000-07:00

So much can happen in a week, both literally and figuratively. I have been hanging in limbo for a couple of weeks waiting for this week to happen and now that it is over I'm not sure if I feel relief, joy or profound sadness - perhaps it's just a combination of the three.

It all really started to go down on Saturday. My little sister and her husband welcomed their first baby, a little boy Ben, into the world. Wow. Jesus. Wasn't my sister just like 15? Now she's all grown up with a husband and a mortgage, a job and now a sweet baby boy. Did it seem this strange to her when I had my first baby a few years ago? Am I living in a time warp or what? Happy and healthy, exhausted and overwhelmed, welcome to parenthood Molly & Greg. God love ya.

Sunday brought the unfortunate passing of my Grama Sally, my Dad's Mom and my closest grandmother. As a kid, I spent nearly every summer with her down in south Florida. We took the old-people bus up to Disney World, went to the zoo, went to about a million masses and ate a TON of chipped turkey on toast and Oreos. (Not together, but certainly in that order). She had faith like no one I have ever known and she believed in me and supported every decision I ever made, even the ones my own parents didn't back up.

She had been in Hospice care since July 4, and even though I knew it was coming, the selfish side of me wasn't ready to let her go. I didn't get to say goodbye, a fact that I am certain will haunt me for years to come. I have the comfort of knowing though that she is no longer in pain and if heaven exists, without a doubt she's up there enjoying the view.

Mid-week brought the sad news of the passing of a former member of the family, my Mother-in-Law's second ex-husband. It was a marriage that should have never been, lasted less than 6 months and literally went down in a ball of flames, but that tragic experience brought the children of both families into each other's lives, where we have all drifted for nearly a decade. I am so sad for their loss and can't imagine what they must be going through.

The end of the week ushered in my birthday. It was appropriately accompanied by some terrible virus my poor three-year-old brought home from school to share with me. Nursing a bored, sick little kid with a 103 fever is a daunting task. But still, we were able to go out for a few hours Friday night to dinner. If the week wasn't already strange enough, it got even more strange. My past came back to haunt me a little, but I think in a good way.

We hadn't planned on going out after dinner, but we did. I finally agreed to go with John to visit an old friend from college who was playing a gig out and I was transported back in time 13 years in a flash of memory. I knew it would hurt, which was why I didn't agree to go before. In my life I have had my heart broken very few times. I was usually the one to do the breaking. Our original departure from Bowling Green about 12 years ago was an excruciating experience for me, one from which I never thought I would recover. I think, looking back now, that was the first time I ever had my heart broken. While the memory is vivid and quite powerful, and I don't understand it any more today than I did back then, I imagine releasing it may provide immeasurable creative inspiration going forward. And, I hope, a new, old friendship.

We hadn't been at the bar longer than maybe 15 minutes when in walked two of the children of the ex-stepdad who passed earlier in the week. Many years have passed since we saw each other last, but we picked right back up where we left off...a sign of true and real friendship. John and I had been talking about them all night, sharing memories of our brief time as a pieced-together family and the times that followed, both good and bad. Family is family and seeing them made me feel at home somehow. Comfort, and overwhelming sadness.

There were peaks and valleys in my strange, surreal week. Immeasurable losses, joyous births, long overdue reconnections. New beginnings. I'm not sure what it all means, but I'm not going to waste too much time analyzing it, I'd rather chalk it up to chance and say let's just take the money and run...hoo hoo hoo.

Tuesday Rhetoricals

2008-05-20T19:41:00.000-07:00

Why is it that we find it so difficult to just say what we mean sometimes? Isn't keeping things inside in the interest of protecting someone's feelings actually WORSE than telling them the truth?

On one hand, it seems selfish to just let it all go. Letting it go might make you feel better, but chances are it will make everyone involved, yourself included, feel worse...at least temporarily. While it might initially hurt someone, they'll eventually get over it, right? Or maybe not. I think it's the "maybe not" part that keeps people buckled down. On the other hand, keeping it all inside is just as harmful. More so, I think actually. Holding it in means you're wasting good time and energy stewing in it. Maybe something that was once a minor "no big deal" kind of thing might turn into a major ordeal if left to fester for too long.

So what's a person to do? Hold it in and try (likely in vain) to convince yourself that you'll get over it only to continue to tread water in the same spot, albiet drifting farther and deeper with each passing day; OR, tackle it head on, get it out there, suffer through it and try to rebuild and move on. I guess it's easier said than done. After all, you never know how the other person might react. Will things ever be the same? Will it even matter? I mean, after all, if there's clearly an issue of such magnitude in the first place, things must be pretty messed up to begin with right? How much more damage could it do?

Things like this keep me up at night. I agonize, I call people, I talk it out. Pretty much everyone tells me to either A) get over it, or 2) confront it. Well geez, that's a fine how-do-ya-do and helps me ZERO, as much as I truly appreciate all words of wisdom and advice that are offered. I wish it were that easy. But we're all people and we all have feelings and again, it's the feelings that matter. But still, if I put myself in the other person's shoes, I sure as heck would want to know if someone had a problem with me, at least offering me the chance to defend myself or own up to something I did. I think long-term punishment is much, much worse.

Why is it that when we know that someone is upset with us we continue to act like nothing is wrong? I mean, come on. You just KNOW. The silent treatment is kind of hard to ignore. There are no phone calls. No check ins. No visits. So why is it so hard to ask, "Why?" "What's going on?" "What the heck is your deal?" Perhaps it's the effort that goes into staging an actual confrontation. If it is out of the blue, then you'll likely be left with a lot of things you wanted to say but were so caught off guard they just escaped you. If you're expecting it, you might be ready for a fight and you might have overthought things to the point of saying something out loud that your brain-to-mouth filter should have caught beforehand. What a tight spot.

Why does it take a tragedy or some other major life event to bring people together or to make people reasses what's most important? Often good can come out of a really cruddy situation. Both of my best friends tragically and unexpectedly lost their fathers this year, one just this week. Drawing from the not-so-distant memory of nearly losing my own Dad to a massive stroke almost six years ago, I distinctly remember the feeling of confusion and shock. Who held me up? My friends. All these years later, it's my turn. Why? Because true friendship just works that way. ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS. I would walk through fire for them, and I don't need a medal for it. During a time when they have so much to worry about, the one thing that is constant is that they know have a friend in Woodbury who is steadfast and at the ready.

There are some things that are just more important than others. It's hard to admit our flaws when faced with them. And we are all flawed people. In my case, it's pretty simple. I have carried the same anger over the same things and the same people for a long time. Some of the issues I have addressed while some I have tried in vain to ignore. I might someday face them, but until that day comes I will try to choke them back, not for myself, but for my precious, precious children who deserve a happy and considerate Mother who is kind, caring, available and provides a good example of respect for self and others. To quote my sister's friend Drew's simple response to my question of whether he actually wanted to return for a second tour in Iraq, "It's my job."

There are a few things in life that I believe are essential. The most essential: Life happens when you show up. All you have to do is show up and leave your bullshit at the door. If you choose not to actively participate in your own life, then you have no one to blame but yourself when life moves on without you. Very simple. Sure, life gets in the way, but it is up to us to control it. I have two little kids, my own full time business, a traveling husband and have to commute 80 miles a day for my kid to go to school/doctor/dance class. I invented tired. Never met another Mom who didn't feel the same in her own right. Excuses are lost on me and I won't apologize for that fact. I don't have time to make them, so I don't have time to take them either.

Maybe I've just answered my own rhetorical question. Maybe that's why we don't just come out and say what we mean - we just don't have time to deal with it. Even though we know it likely won't go away on its own, it's just too much effort on our already weary minds to deal with yet another issue after a day/week/month/year full of them. Yeah, I think that's it. Mystery solved.

Until next time I'll offer these words of wisdom to my loyal readers.....chant the mantra and show up for something. Let me know how it turns out.

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-09T19:21:00.000-07:00

So can I get a "HALLELUJAH" for Spring? I know I am not alone when praising every bud on every green tree this year. Is it just me or did Winter seem to drag on for.e.ver this time?

Pollen levels notwithstanding, the sight of any color other than gray has energized me beyond belief. It seems I just woke up to discover, Hey! I live in the country now! I can plant things! Lest we forget that my in-laws, who live across the street from us, mind you, have tilled up their ENTIRE front yard to make way for the largest garden two people could possibly ever stand. My measly little 5'x2' elevated rectangle of garden is so pitiful in comparison, but I'm pretty stoked about it nonetheless.

Yellow peppers (gotta have those, right?), Roma tomatoes, three different kinds of chives, butter lettuce (for yummy lettuce wraps...mm mm), every herb under the sun (bad pun) and six strawberry plants adorn my garden. Oh, and there will be more before the weekend is over. I'll till up the side of my fence row and plant pumpkins, sunflowers and who knows what all. My husband asked me the other day what I wanted to do for Mother's Day and my response was, "I want to spend the weekend with my girls playing in the dirt." So what did my sweet husband do? He went out and bought me some plants!

This is my third Mother's Day and I can say they keep getting better and better. Every year, we attend the TACA Art Festival in Nashville's Centennial Park and have our little family picture taken in the flower garden. The first year, Sofia was just shy of six-months-old. Last year, we could hardly get her to stand still for a photo at 18-mos old. This year, there were four in our picture instead of three, now that we have grown our little family by one more. I can't tell you how much joy it brings me to see the pictures from each year and to see how we've grown. It's amazing.

Being a Mom is the hardest job I have ever had, but by far the most rewarding. (well duh, every Mom says that, right?). Most days I function on about 3 hours of sleep, do at least three loads of dishes/laundry, feed, dress and bathe both girls (and on occasion my husband and self), suffer through at least two screaming fits (per child), plus work my day job (or try to). Sometimes I want to have screaming fit or two of my own. But it's when Sofia says, "Mommy, I love you," and sings "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" with me before bed or Morgan gives me that BIG grin when I walk in the room (even though all she says is "Da Da Da Da Da," right now, I know she's totally thinking of me when she says it), that I know that nothing can top this.

On Mother's Day growing up my sister and I always made things for our Mom. Cards, little art projects to hang on the wall - stuff she still has hanging around. I always knew she thought those things were special, because she proudly displayed them for years and years. I never realized HOW special until my own little girl started coming home with corn cob and q-tip paintings and little marigold flowers planted in styrofoam cups decorated with her thumbprints made up to look like ladybugs. Long after that stinky little flower is dead and gone, I'll have that cup...and the glittered Christmas tree ornament, and the crayon drawing that is supposed to be Daddy's car.

Little kids are so random, but their love is so strong and so pure. They get mad at you because they want to zip up their own jackets or wear flip flops outside in February or eat marshmallows for dinner, but they don't hold a grudge (yet) and they remember EVERY.THING. Sofia was so proud to give me that flower that she tried to give it to me every day for two weeks until finally, her teacher had to put it away until it was ready to come home. It was the sweetest thing ever.

I can think back to Mother's Day celebrations with my own Mom and remember lots of wonderful food, gaudy corsages, and such. More than anything what I remember is our family being together. I am so proud that those are the memories I will have of my own Mother's Day celebrations going forward, and as my younger sister and her husband prepare to welcome their first child into the world, I am excited for her too.

In my world, there really isn't much better than this.

Happy Mother's Day to all who will celebrate a Mom this weekend.

Why I hate Wal Mart.

2008-04-28T17:40:00.000-07:00

I love yellow bell peppers. For these and other items, I've found myself at the grocery store once a week lately, which is about twice as often as my average, pretty much due to the fact that my family has made the seasonal shift to fresh veggies and fruits and away from processed foods (thank GAWD) that, AND I have two little vacuum cleaners, both under the age of 4.

In the rolling metropolis of Bowling Green, KY we have pretty much 2 affordable options to get everything we need at one place: Kroger and Wal Mart. During my visits to both establishments as of late, I have learned a few things - none of which will shock anyone, to be sure.

1) Kroger sucks WAY less than Wal Mart.
2) Kroger really does not cost much more than Wal Mart - you can just buy more crap you don't need at Wal Mart.
3) Kroger has bag kids that occasionally offer to help you to your car provided it's not raining or snowing, or interfering with their break.
4) Kroger does not have a giant display of rotten strawberries for $.98 a pint right in the front door. (I mean really people...YOU ARE WAL MART, you really need to make a buck that bad?)
5) I don't have to wait in line to get down the aisles at Kroger or wait 20-deep in line to check out. At 11 am. On a Tuesday. For the love of Pete.

Yes, I am a Wal Mart hater. Always have been. In the 5 years I lived in Denver, CO, I never set foot in a Wal Mart. Not once. Even when we moved back to Nashville, I only went there twice...in almost another 5 years. In college we used to joke that parents took their kids to Wal Mart when they needed a good beating. Not sure times have changed too much since the mid-90s.

It just figures that I would move to a place that is 20 miles away from the closest well-stocked grocery store and that gorcery store just so happens to be - GUESS WHERE?! That's right kids, in a flipping Wal Mart.

If the bad lighting and birds flying about isn't bad enough, Wal Mart likes to torture us by putting the dog food and shampoo in one corner, the milk and diapers in the complete opposite corner, and the TOYS, TOOLS and ELECTRONICS sections in between. WTF WAL MART YOU CAPATALIST BASTARDS?! You people KNOW we ladies will at some point bring our KIDS and HUSBANDS in there with us during a moment of weakness. Your layout not only wears out the already ragged, but will inevitably cause an increase in grocery bill by at least 20%. YARG!!!!

You can also forget "running in" for anything at a Wal Mart. If the trek to fetch your necessity isn't daunting a task enough, the EVERLASTING wait to check out will give you some extra time to call Grandma and catch up.

Wal Mart parking sucks too. Now I realize that in the interest of serving both our physically challenged and (ahem) blue-haired populous, Wal Mart feels the need to place about 600 handicapped spaces in the front of the parking lot and NOT ONE SINGLE expectant Mommy space. I mean, seriously.

I think I know what I'd do if I had several million dollars: I'd open a supermarket with lots of close parking, including 15-minute spaces up front for people who just need to run in and Mommy spaces that are wider to make room for big honkin' SUVs and Minivans. These Mom spaces would also have automatic balloon/sticker distribution terminals and a full-service gas station/McDonalds/Starbucks/Pharmacy drive thru and VIP store access to the entrance the farthest distance from the Toy section or any virus-infected riding machine. You could fit at least 3 carts abreast through each aisle and the produce wouldn't mush in your grasp. The checker-outer people would have personality and the idiot high school kids bagging your stuff wouldn't give you TMI about the funeral they went to that day or the gory details of their broken hand (both of which have happened to me, BTW), NOR would they giggle and snort at your tampon/condom/preparation H purchase.

Wait a second! Can you franchise a Publix?

Ah. Life in a perfect world. Where my beloved ingredient du jour the yellow bell pepper costs less than $3.19 A PIECE!!! I have learned my lesson. I have planted a yellow bell pepper plant in my garden. SUCK THAT WAL MART!!! I guess until my utopian supermarket exists in my little world up here in the rolling hills of Kentucky, I'll just have to take my chances and be thankful I at least have an alternative to the dreaded beast that is Wal Mart. And after all, Kroger loves me so much for dropping a wad of cash with them today that they gave me a $5 Starbucks card. Hey - it's little, but it's working.

Monday and Friday Mommies

2008-04-15T08:37:00.000-07:00

I take my oldest daughter to dance class every week and recently moved her from Monday nights to Friday mornings. I moved her for her own good (and for my own sanity), as she was prone to a 6 p.m. meltdown in front of God and everybody at the prospect of leaving dance class to embark on the 30 minute car ride home. In a way though, I think I might have moved me for my own good too.

I don't often come into contact with other parents of kids my daughter's age. There are the parents at school, but really for me, that's just a passing hello on occasion. There are my friends who have kids, but we don't really get together that much, so that leaves me to occasional conversations with the dance Mommies I come into contact with each week.

Once a week we all sit in a room adjacent to the dance studio an watch our three and four-year-olds jump, flap and roll around from an 18" closed-circuit television. The first week I walked in, sat down and introduced myself to two other Moms who had clearly known each other for some time. I was immediately greeted with "So what preschool does your daughter go to?" Wow, talk about breaking the ice.

Now this preschool question is one I have always dreaded. While I work from home, I do not consider myself a "stay at home Mom," and I do send my oldest to full time early preschool - ahem - daycare. I have found that when other Moms hear that I send my child to a full-day/week program, they tend to condescendingly say, "Oh, I see." Then they proceed to talk about the preschools they have visited and waiting lists they are on, blah, blah, blah, conveniently leaving me out of the conversation. Not that it is a conversation I want to be a part of, mind you.

What is this fascination with finding the perfect preschool? These kids are three and four-years-old. You think they CARE where they go to preschool? All they care about is how cool the playground is (and really they don't discriminate here either, as long as being outside is involved) and if they can play with their buddies all day. Personally, I think that during these formative years it is much more important for PARENTS to focus on educating their kids while they are at home and if they feel so compelled or find it necessary for whatever reason to put the child in any type of outside care, they should find a program with a good, experienced teaching staff that will supplelment what is already going on at home.

I have paid through the nose to send my kid to good schools both in Tennessee and now in Kentucky and will continue to do so no matter what it takes. Does this mean that I'm gonna line up and fight my way into the "best kindergarten" a couple years from now? Who knows? In my opinion, the "best kindergarten" is one with a loving teacher that helps children learn to read and write and color and sing and most importantly, to respect each other. Don't most of them do that? I can tell you, I won't choose a school based on where the social network of ballet Mommies feels is the most appropriate place for their kids to go. If I want my kid to be smart and to learn things, then it's MY job to teach her. The school doesn't make a smarter kid, the parent does. Besides, keeping up with the Joneses has never really been my bag, baby.

So after several weeks of Sofia's Monday post-ballet meltdowns and being completely ignored by the snooty dance Mommies (who didn't even budge when I took my precious-as-poop 5-month-old in with me one evening), we moved to Friday mornings which started last week.

I was immediately greeted by a nice lady who introduced herself and another Mom who came in after I. Much to my relief, they were MUCH nicer Mommies. Mom #1 swore she knew me from somewhere, to which I advised her we had just moved to the area last fall and really hadn't had much time to get to know anyone. Her very next question actually shocked my socks off: "Have you found a Church yet?"

She might as well have asked me what the result of my last pap smear was.

Now I live in the bible belt of Kentucky where most folks walk around with...well...bibles...on their belts....ok, not really, but you get my meaning. I probably should not have been so taken aback by this seemingly innocent question, but I find this to be very personal subject matter and really didn't feel like diving right into it before I'd even had my first cup of coffee.

My initial thought reaction to this Mommy was that this was a REALLY personal question to ask someone that you met 5 minutes ago. Then, for about two seconds, I was tempted to tell her we were athiest, but not wanting to completely alienate myself from the two Mommies I was destined to spend an hour with every Friday morning for the next year, I politely replied that we were Catholic (half true) and that we attended church in our little town (Morgantown - totally not true), which completely bit me in the ass, because turns out she lives in Morgantown too (insert Waa, Waa, Waaaaa here). But much to my relief, she is part of one of these rock-and-roll Baptist churches in Bowling Green and probably would never stoop to join us at a Mass in Morgantown. (WHEW!). Nonetheless, I was invited to join their Church, which is a nice sentiment, but also presumptuous as hell.

The truth of the matter is I choose to "keep the Lord's day holy" by spending Sunday mornings making cinammon rolls for my daughter then snuggling up with a pot of coffee, my family and the Old Man Show (CBS Sunday Morning). If I didn't have two needy little kids, I would probably go to Church, but I don't, so sue me. If you don't like it, then you can bite me and then go to Church and pray about it because really, as a Mom of two little kids, I need all the prayers I can get.

The next question that Friday morning was posed by Mom #2:

"So what preschools have you visited?"

Here we go again. Oh well, I guess you can't win 'em all.

Wow Seriously? A Whole Bag of Rock of Love

2008-04-14T09:07:00.000-07:00

We (being my husband John and I) stayed up until nearly 2 a.m. last night to tune in to the season finale of VH1's Rock of Love 2 to watch Bret Michaels choose his final "true love and sex mate," except one of the two finalists really isn't a nasty ho at all, so I'm left scratching my head a little.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have been hopelessly addicted to this train wreck of a show since season one, when Bret had to choose between skank stripper ho Heather and down-to-earth hairdresser Jess. Evidently things didn't fare so well with ole Jess, so here we are again for season two, which reached new lows of scragginess with 20 new semi-mentally challenged, botoxed, siliconed girls all duking it out for the affections of a middle-aged, hair plugged, fake tanned, poorly talented, C-list "rock star," Michaels, who as we learned this season, really has a thing for damaged goods, both physically and mentally. Still, he endears us anyway, hot monkey love and all.

Where exactly DO they find these girls anyway? I can see the ad now: "Calling all ho's! If you have an IQ of 5, breasts bigger than your head, lots of tiny outfits, hair extensions and don't mind sharing your men with many, MANY other seedy girls just like YOU, then come on down! And be sure to bring your baggage with you!!!"

This season we had semi-normal ladies like Katherine, an older mom with a really, and I mean REALLY bad 80's coif/metal-mullet; rocker "face-time" chick Peyton, and my secret fave, the dramatic and overly targeted Kristy Joe; then you have the scary amazon Inna "the love tank," redneck biker groupie Destiney and the scariest of them all "Frenchy" Angelique, whose plastic surgery is grotesque to say the least and you imagine that she must have a funky odor about her just by the look of her. Between Michaels' grunts of "Me likey" and "Hey-ooohhh," we had to endure cat fights, physical "challenges" like mud football and roller derby, lots of tears and even more WAY icky tonsil hockey. And then finally there were two, the ever so tragic Daisy and the misfit Ambre.

I'm sure once upon a time Daisy was a pretty girl before she pumped herself full of artificial lips and boobs. She still shares a one bedroom apartment with her ex, and actually expects the world to believe she just can't break her lease. Riiiiggggttt. She looks the part though, and we were SURE that Bret would choose her, as she is a 25-year-old idiot who can barely complete a sentence, doesn't know the words to our National anthem, even when it's written on paper in front of her face, but can shake her money-maker with the best of them. Ok, I can see how this one made the final two.

Ambre on the other hand is a square peg. She seems like an intelligent woman, who claims to be secure with herself, her age (37), her career (a TV host?), and obnoxiously squeals and jumps up and down like a little girl when she gets excited. But really, her "best friend" is a HUGE dork of a guy who has probably been totally in love with her since childhood and now the poor bastard has had to watch her make out with a rock star for the past 11 weeks. She just doesn't fit the part. Sure, she has a really wrong, big, fried hairdo, fights and screams, but she really just seems like a down-home daddy's girl putting on a front to seem like she can hang with the cool kids.

Like Jess of season one, I was rooting for Ambre and I was glad to see that Bret made the right decision by choosing the smart, grounded girl, that while she ultimately might not be able to hang with the afterparty, could totally gel with his two kids and would be a good girl to take home to Momma. Plus, being a cool chick in her 30's myself, I believe there is something to be said for the worldliness of a mature woman who is secure with herself and has grown through the drama of her 20's, as most of us do. Was she the hottest choice? Well, I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I will say she looks so much better without all that makeup and teased-up hair. This girl is so much better as herself and she seems like a genuinely nice girl who has no motives by appearing on this show, unlike bombshell wannabe Meghan, who had already appeared on 'Beauty and the Geek,' and thought she was the hottest girl alive....but she is certainly hands-down the dumbest, which can make even the prettiest girl fugly as hell.

I still have next week's reunion show to look forward to, which judging by the catfight preview between Heather and Daisy, is sure to be a barn burner. I'm mostly interested to see if Bret actually stayed with Ambre this time or if she abandoned him much like Jess did on season one. Evidently the winner is allowed no contact with Bret until the finale has aired so that the press won't catch wind of the final outcome and leak it before it has had a chance to air. Ambre, who claimed in the finale that she "can't help herself" by being totally "in love with Bret," seems like a smarter girl than one who would go for a shallow cad like this one. At one point, as she was professing her undying love for Bret, John and I looked at each other in disbelief. My question, "God, WHY?!" John's answer, "Because she loves douche, and he's a whole bag of it."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

Why Mess With a Good Thing?

2008-04-13T21:08:00.000-07:00

I've found myself sucked into PBS' Masterpiece Classic over the last few months to view the complete works of Jane Austen. From Mansfield Park to Emma, I've tuned in to them all faithfully, hoping to eventually come across a version that would knock my socks off, only to set myself up for disappointment.

I will be the first to admit that the PBS, or shall I say, BBC versions of these classic stories don't hold a candle to the "Hollywood" versions of these films. Kate Beckensale's 'Emma' cannot compare to that of Gwyneth Paltrow's 1996 Miss Woodhouse portrayal, while Emma Thompson and Kate Winslet served us all much better in their 1995 roles as the Dashwood sisters in Sense and Sensibility. But still, ever the sucker for the period romance-drama, I've tuned in, week after week and other than Pride and Prejudice (which I must admit I Netflixed the third installment because I just simply COULD NOT wait one more week to see the ending, even though I had seen it before and totally knew how it ended), I have to say I was completely bored with the whole lot of films. Each and every film was really not too unlike Austen's novels themselves- tons of buildup, angst and yearning, quick ending, predictable big kiss (often with the dizzying lame camera effect of circling the lovers in their triumphant moment set to a grand crescendo of violins. Woo hoo!). Wham, bam...well you get my point.

Now that the Austen series has concluded, imagine my delight to learn that PBS' next 'Classic' installment was none other than my all time favorite E.M. Forster novel, A Room with A View. I dialed up my DVR and settled in for what I already knew would be a lame adaptation when compared to my beloved 1986 film version starring Helena Bonham-Carter and one of my first film crushes (I was 11 at the time, after all), Julian Sands. I was right, but then again, like Simon Cowell, I usually am. (I jest, of course, well, not really).

Here are my major complaints. Other than the obvious drab color palette of the scenery in general, I mean the stage is set in Florence in the springtime but all we get are Lucy ogling at the rippling muscles of nude male statues in the plaza and a flat wheat field where she and George share their first kiss. George, played by Rafe Spall, is actually pretty handsome...until he opens his mouth to reveal a mouth full of gray teeth and a warble like he has a mouth full of crumpets. This adaptation leaves much open to the imagination of the viewer. Yes, we get that Mr. Beebe is a homosexual and that he implies that Cecil is as well "destined to never marry." Is that what they called it back then? We get that Lucy is blossoming and that George is a wierdo and probably isn't the wisest choice, but the REAL WTF moment comes with the ending of the film.

For anyone who has ever read the novel, the final chapter depicts a lovely, romantic scene of Lucy and George, now married, revisiting the fateful Italian 'room with a view' that started their courtship one year before. She is mending his sock, bitching about a noisy street peddler down below and recounting a letter from her brother while George teases her with "Kiss me here, now kiss me here." It is all terribly sweet and sensual. The perfect ending to a perfectly lovely story. Does Davies' adaptation elude to this scene? For like two seconds, then it randomly flash-forwards to ten years later showing George dead on a battlefield and Lucy with a really bad coif revisiting their Italian wheatfield and (maybe??) hook up with a local. NO NO NO NO NO NO!!! What the hell is this? You don't screw around with a beloved piece of literature and INVENT YOUR OWN ENDING and still call it by its original title. They should have called it 'A Room With a View...of my ASS!'

Davies also adapeted the recent PBS version of Sense and Sensibility. Did he mess up that ending? No way! One can only imagine the revolt that would have taken place among PBS Masterpiece viewers and Austen fans. There would have been a full-out boycott. Don't underestimate hopeless romantic women (and a handful of gay men, no doubt) in their (ahem) 30's and their ability to influence the rating system.

On a random search for reviews of this blasphemy I came across a great article from New York Times contributor Neil Genzlinger, that sums up my feelings in the opening paragraph:

How you feel about the new adaptation of “A Room With a View” offered on Sunday as a PBS “Masterpiece Classic” is likely to hinge on two things. One is whether the 1986 film version, which made a star out of Helena Bonham Carter, has a special place in your heart. The other is whether you think 21st-century screenwriters ought to be messing around with the endings of early-20th-century novels.

Amen brosef! I could not have said it better myself. In fact, another thing that I noticed that Genzlinger also notes is how rediculous it seems that Davies is trying to push the Masterpiece envelope by including themes such as homosexuality, nudity and horn-dogginess in general. Lucy is trying to be flirty with Cecil by the pond in talking about her childhood skinny-dipping with her brother (whaaaaa?) followed by a very awkward kiss between them that implies Cecil might swing the other direction (DUH?!). Then they actually BLUR out a scene of George's backside jumping into the water. Seriously. Julian Sands' bare behind was a thrilling sight to my pre-pubescent buddies and I back in the day. This is 2008 for crying out loud, what's a bare ass in this world full of torture-porn and Rock Of Love on VH-freakin'1?

To get the real ending, read chapter 20 of the book. In fact, here, read the whole book: http://www.readprint.com/work-682/E-M--Forster. And run, do not walk, to your closest Netflix facility and rent the 1986 version of A Room With a View. You won't regret it, I promise.

Will I tune in next week for Masterpiece Classic's My Boy Jack? Yeah, proably so, but only because I like Rudyard Kipling...oh and Harry Potter's Daniel Radcliffe might have something to do with it too.

Now, I move on to the finale of Rock of Love 2 - hey - I never claimed I was perfect, after all.