Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Family Values

Moved along.

Check out the new family blog here.

And to all a good night.

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

No Glass Ceiling in the Exciting Field of Housekeeping!

You'd expect this to have been aired in those early years of Mattel guns-for-boys, dollies-for-girls commercials. Nope. Last year. I actually remember seeing this product in the stores and thinking, "how cute! a play house and a kitchen set in one!" It's a tad girlie for my taste, and we do NOT have room for it, but I considered it for a brief moment. Then I found out that it was going to teach my daughter that having the honor of cleaning her house should be one of her big aspirations. How far we have (NOT) come:

We ARE going to get her a kitchen set (which will be passed down to any other siblings and cousins, male or female). But this? This is evil.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Hmm...I live with a dog...

And apparently Max has a 33% chance of taking me down. I better go feed him.

Brought To You By Sex Stores

Friday, June 20, 2008

Pajama Tirade!

Ladies and gentlemen, THIS is the enemy:

Searching online for the general price of toddler jammies (going to the outlets in G'burg next week, and I'm not buying it just cause it's Osh Kosh or Baby Gap. They need to beat Wal-Mart & Target's prices for me, please!) so I check out a discount store's site and search for girl toddler sleepwear.
Gah! All Disney, all princess, except for one token Dora (throwing our Hispanic chicas a bone because Disney refuses to touch their ethnicity with a feature-length film? And what, a black girl wouldn't make a nice addition to the Princess Circle? Walt, you posthumously suck.) But that's just my minor beef - although one of the perks of moving to SJ from south-central PA was that my kids won't grow thinking black people are only on TV - this actually has nothing to do with race.

Why the Hell are we mommies actually shelling out money to the Disney corporation for the honor of advertising their insipid characters on our children's chests? Every jammie on the page was giving free rent to a corporate character. The 2nd page had cartoon-free jammies, two of them. $8.99. The cartoon character ones were selling for $12.99 and up. Honestly. I don't get it.

I've been self-righteously told by a few older (but wiser?) friends who have children older than my own that I might as well start dressing her in Princess this and Dora that now, because in a year or two I won't have a choice at all in what she likes and wears anyway. Yes, a colleague, a teacher with a degree, told me this. To her face, I rolled my eyes. In my head, "the heck you say!"

"Mamma, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys" is quite possibly a bit of sound advice, as well as a a bit of nicely cheesed country. I refuse to believe that I have that little of an effect on my child's life. Are these the same parents that "discuss" with their children the possibility of eating veggies rather than chips, or wearing a coat instead of a tank top when it's snowing? No, you can't control their preferences. But if they never watch South Park, they'll never be quoting Cartman at school. You decide what you child watches on TV. Always. Until it's not your TV anymore, because they're living on campus. On a nice scholarship, God willing. In my family were were allowed to watch "The Simpsons" from the first season, when I was 8 *gasp* and I'm pretty liberal with "themes" on TV shows. But if I decide that I don't want my kid watching a show or getting into a particular character, that's that. It may be because I think they present a narrow and stereotypical version of what a young woman should be (pearls or diamonds to the ball, oh my!) or it may be because I want to punch the TV when I hear them sing (Barney does not, will not exist in our house. I have made my peace with 3rd-person-simpering Elmo, thankyouvermuch.) But what we say, goes. And that goes for her pajamas.

And I'd appreciate it if these retailers would give me at least a few more options beyond Belle and Ariel (Pocahontas would so kick the rest of their asses, lay them out with one kick and survive in the wilderness for weeks alone afterwards, if need be. And where is she on the stupid jammie above?)

And one last whine: Why must everything be THAT color pink? I've eased my ban on pink, mainly because my daughter looks cute in certain shades of it - none of them appearing on a Disney Princess. But WHY must all girl stuff be that awful shade of magenta/pink. I saw a collection of bats, baseballs, soccer balls, and gloves in Target yesterday, and they were all solid, Disney Princess Pink. Oh. My. FairyGODmother.

Now, if I'm going to spend a little extra cash and properly use my offspring as a billboard for my own interests, we'd be buying this in several sizes:

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Sound of Frustration


Ok, one downside to ending the school year is that you have pack up EVERYTHING in your room and pretend that you don't teach in there 10 months of the year. And part of packing up is taking home all your personal stuff (yes, teachers bring in a ton of personal stuff for educational use, remember that when snobby people are whining about teachers getting paid too much.).

So let's start the annoying story: A fellow teacher about my age brought in a box of books from her childhood that she wanted to get rid of. This would also be known as my lucky day. I got a hardback copy of Charlotte's Web. A few Encyclopedia Brown mysteries. A Legend of Xanth novel, a bunch of Choose Your Own Adventures, a hardback Bobsy Twins, a Nancy Drew, a Trixie Beldon (my mom collects them) and few other oldies but goodies. And I put them in a plastic bag and put them next to my desk. Later I put my behind-the-desk trash can next to my desk (next to the bag) for the 5th grade partiers to put their trash in). And some other stuff I wanted to take home. A bottle of REALLY good lotion, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and the ultimate 2-DVD Anniversary box set of "The Sound of Music".

I had a bunch of things to take home that day, so left it at school. And it was gone this morning.

I guess my custodian thought it was garbage overflow. I shrugged it off, oh well, I just lost some free books (taken for a the someday-reading-pleasure of a 1 year old who can't read) so I didn't care that much. Then, tonight, sitting with Maddie and singing "Edelviess" to her, I realized. My DVD of "The Sound of Music" had bit the dust.



10 months of the year I can completely understand why someone wouldn't want to be become a teacher. The kids, the colds, the paperwork, the parents, constant stream of newly discovered disorders that mean the kid can have whatever grade he wants.

Come mid-June, I COMPLETELY understand education as a career choice.
My last day was today. No more pencils, no more books, no more snot-nosed brats and their over-indulgent parents' dirty looks.

Bob's last day is tomorrow, I'm taking Maddie into his school to show her off and entertain him. We'll see what damage she can do at the middle school. At the very least, perhaps we can provide a reminder form of birth-control.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Well, We Already Knew This, Didn't We?


As a 1930s wife, I am

Take the test!

Mash Game: Predicting a 1 year-old's future is fun - sorry for the space, scroll down

Behold... My Future
I will marry One of Brangelina\'s kids.
After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Sesame Street in our fabulous Apartment.
We will have 2 kid(s) together.
Our family will zoom around in a Fairy Princess Pink model of Elmo\'s tricycle.
I will spend my days as a official goldfish cracker taste-tester, and live happily ever after.
whats your future

Mash Game: Predict Your Future at eSPIN-the-Bottle

Behold... My Future
  I will marry Hot, Curly-Haired Singer Guy from Free Credit Commericals.  
  After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Marlton, NJ in our fabulous House.  
  We will have 7 kid(s) together.  
  Our family will zoom around in a Avacado green Convertible.
  I will spend my days as a Taffy Puller, and live happily ever after.  
whats your future

Monday, May 26, 2008

A Bad Equation.