Okay, this one really has nothing to do with boys, but I can only talk about how rambunctious my two monkeys are for so long before people start to get bored. So I’ve been mentally composing this for the past week and just now, while M. is sleeping snugly in his car seat on the kitchen table and J. is at preschool, I finally have time to get it out of my head and onto the blog. I have one hour before I have to go pick up J. at school so I’d better be quick.
Okay, so it’s the Christmas season and I’ve got the “Holiday Hits!” music station on our PVR playing almost 24 hours a day. What I’ve realized is that virtually everyone on this planet who has taken a piss near a recording studio has cut a Christmas album. Seriously. The first day, after hearing a parade of one-hit wonders, unknowns, and icons from decades past, I jokingly thought to myself “What next? A Glass Tiger Christmas song?” and lo and behold, a few hours later a bloody Glass Tiger song came on. I am now holding out for Honeymoon Suite, but nothing yet. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. (An apology to my few American readers, Glass Tiger and Honeymoon Suite were Canadian hit-makers in the 80’s. You will have never heard of them, but they were big up here. Really.)
Honestly though, if you were any sort of child star, you have a Christmas album. If you were a contestant on American Idol, you have a Christmas album. If you had one hit in the past 60 years, you have a Christmas album. Remember Sixpence None The Richer, known for their one hit, “Kiss Me” – as in “kiss me, beneath the milky twilight, kiss me, here on the green, green grass”? They have a Christmas album. How about Jon Secada of “Just Another Day” (I, I don’t want to say it, I don’t want to find another way, to make it though the day without you)? He’s got a holiday album too. I think my favourite so far, though, other than Glass Tiger, has been Scott Grimes. As in that red-headed kid who is (was?) on “ER”, was on “Party of Five”, and also, cut a Christmas record. What next – Joey Lawrence sings “Oh Holy Night”?
The two biggest somewhat legitimate singers who are crucifying (sorry, bad analogy?) the holiday songs are Christina Aguliera (or Xtina to fit with the holiday theme) and Jessica Simpson. Both are students of the school of over-singing, but at least Xtina has talent. However, her version of “The Christmas Song”, the Mel Torme classic, has a dance beat to it and to me sounds suitable only for a gay holiday cruise. When I hear it, I have visions of buff, waxed, well-groomed young men in Speedos dancing in my head. Oh, and these men are dancing too. It’s really quite awful. Not my thoughts of the attractive gay men dancing, but the song. It really is unlistenable. For me, Christmas songs are like breakfast. You don’t mess with them. You perform, or serve them, they way they were meant to be. No pineapple salsa on my French Toast, a la Milestones Restaurant, and no disco Mel Torme. As for Jessica Simpson, what she does to songs is a travesty. Actually, it’s not the songs, it’s her voice. She over-sings, and trills and runs them all over the place until your ears want to bleed. She should stick to plopping her name on products that other people design, like her shoes and fake hair lines, and stay away from performing.
Now onto another holiday rant. What does sexy lingerie have to do with the birth of baby Jesus? Victoria’s Secret has their big fashion show on TV in November, just in time for the holidays. There’s ads everywhere promoting lingerie as a great holiday gift. Now, being a godless heathen, the holidays have always been about family, food, and helping those less-fortunate, and this even offends me. So I’m not quite sure how the lingerie lobby managed to get this past the god-fearing Christians. The two concepts do not seem to jibe. I don’t get it. “Merry Christmas, honey. I bought you some see-though panties, garters and thigh-highs, and a push-up bra. It’s what Jesus and the Virgin Mary would have wanted.” Someone explain it to me.
Now on to my holiday movie recommendation list. You’ve probably seen most of these, but these are the ones I need to watch each December. And yes, there are a lot.
Not For the Wee Kiddies
The Ref http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0110955/
- Denis Leary, Kevin Spacey, and Judy Davis showcasing family dysfunction at its best. My favourite line: “Tell you what mom. Next year for Christmas I’m going to get you a big wooden cross so any time you’re feeling under appreciated, you can just climb up on there and nail yourself to it.”
Bad Santa http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0307987/
- Not for the faint of heart. Raunchy, raunchy, raunchy.
Love Actually http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0314331/
- Touching, sad, funny, real. Plus Colin Firth!
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0097958/
- Who doesn’t love the Griswald’s? And Cousin Eddie, of course.
Then we get into the classics that the whole family can enjoy:
A Christmas Carol (Alistair Sims, black & white version)
Muppet Christmas Carol
It’s a Wonderful Life
Emmett Otter’s Jug Band Christmas
The Grinch (the classic cartoon version – but the Jim Carrey one is good too)
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Nestor the Long-Eared Donkey
Comment with your favourites if there's any I missed!
Wait, I can bring this back to boys. For the most part, the above movies are touching and have messages of hope and goodwill. Guess what movie is my husband’s favourite holiday film … Die Hard. I’m not sure anyone else classifies that as a Christmas movie, but since it takes place at a Christmas party, according to D., it’s a Christmas movie. I’m going to be watching most of these films alone in the years to come, aren’t I. See how being a M.O.B. is going to shape my whole life going forward?
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Tears For Tuna & Does He Know It's Christmas?
No, Tears for Tuna is not the name of my eco-conscious 80's cover band, it's what I went through the other night trying to get J. to eat a very kid-friendly tuna casserole. Cooking does not come naturally to me so I am making a real effort (and it is an effort) to make healthy meals for the family, so I was trying out the Tuna Casserole from the great "Tin Fish Gourmet" cookbook. J. refused to eat it, said it wasn't the noodles he liked (which is pasta with pesto!) and when told that this was dinner and it was all he was getting, he burst into tears. You could tell he was kind of forcing it, but after a while, when he wasn't getting anywhere with it, he actually gave up and ate the darn stuff! Being lovingly firm and consistent with your child actually works! Who'd of thunk it?
And he actually never knew there was tuna in it. I've learned that less is more when it comes to toddler eating so J. is now on a need to know basis. He eats fish sticks but we've told him they are chicken. He hasn't noticed yet that they don't taste like chicken. It might be the mounds of ketchup he puts on everything he eats. I'm going to get away with lying to my kids for their own good as long as I can. I was in my 20's before I figured out, after being mocked and publicly shamed by other friends who weren't as gullible as me, that despite what my mother had told me repeatedly, there were not "flour worms" in uncooked baked goods, specifically cookie dough, that would make you sick if you ate it. She had just been trying to keep me from eating all the cookie dough.
As for the second part of my title, I believe my other child is going to be my eater. As I mentioned before, it turns out I have been starving the wee baby M. and the milk jugs have not been producing enough to meet his needs. He's one of those kids that watches you eat with frightening intensity. It's like a scene from "Empire of the Sun" when the POW detainees are watching their captors eat opulent meals while they are barely surviving on potatoes and weevils for protein. He just turned 5 months, so we started him on rice cereal and after one bite, he was trying to grab the spoon out of my hand and shove more in his mouth. He's had four bowls so far and cleans the plate every time. He's like a baby bird open it's mouth for worms. So tonight as I was feeding him, I was singing him the Band Aid "Do They Know It's Christmas?" song because he is my starving child. I suppose it might seem shallow and trite to be singing a song about African famine to a relatively well cared for baby who will hopefully never truly know hunger in his lifetime, but he really seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps tomorrow night I can regale him with the far inferior "We Are The World". Sorry, no Canadian content, even though the government does require 30%. I will not be doing "Tears Are Not Enough", although it was better than the narcissistic, god-complex ridden "We Are The World".
And he actually never knew there was tuna in it. I've learned that less is more when it comes to toddler eating so J. is now on a need to know basis. He eats fish sticks but we've told him they are chicken. He hasn't noticed yet that they don't taste like chicken. It might be the mounds of ketchup he puts on everything he eats. I'm going to get away with lying to my kids for their own good as long as I can. I was in my 20's before I figured out, after being mocked and publicly shamed by other friends who weren't as gullible as me, that despite what my mother had told me repeatedly, there were not "flour worms" in uncooked baked goods, specifically cookie dough, that would make you sick if you ate it. She had just been trying to keep me from eating all the cookie dough.
As for the second part of my title, I believe my other child is going to be my eater. As I mentioned before, it turns out I have been starving the wee baby M. and the milk jugs have not been producing enough to meet his needs. He's one of those kids that watches you eat with frightening intensity. It's like a scene from "Empire of the Sun" when the POW detainees are watching their captors eat opulent meals while they are barely surviving on potatoes and weevils for protein. He just turned 5 months, so we started him on rice cereal and after one bite, he was trying to grab the spoon out of my hand and shove more in his mouth. He's had four bowls so far and cleans the plate every time. He's like a baby bird open it's mouth for worms. So tonight as I was feeding him, I was singing him the Band Aid "Do They Know It's Christmas?" song because he is my starving child. I suppose it might seem shallow and trite to be singing a song about African famine to a relatively well cared for baby who will hopefully never truly know hunger in his lifetime, but he really seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps tomorrow night I can regale him with the far inferior "We Are The World". Sorry, no Canadian content, even though the government does require 30%. I will not be doing "Tears Are Not Enough", although it was better than the narcissistic, god-complex ridden "We Are The World".
Monday, November 24, 2008
Ooops - Where Does The Time Go?
Has it really been a month? Yes, yes, yes, I know the point of a blog is to update it on a quasi-regular basis, but all aspects of life sort of went sideways so I had to focus on survival and drop any non-essentials and as much I enjoy the blog, it is a luxury item in my life.
Here's what went down:
1) We listed and sold our place and bought another within three weeks. Yes, in this market. The gods were smiling upon us and the perfect buyers fell in our lap. Had they not come along, I'm sure it would still be on the market, or we would have given up and taken it off because keeping it clean for open houses was just about killing me.
2) The adorable baby M. - still not sleeping through the night. Turns out, I didn't actually have a sleep problem, I had a food problem. I was starving him to death. After going out to see Madonna on October 30 (a day that just about saw me check myself into the pysch ward at Lions Gate Hospital due to lack of sleep and house-selling stress combined with lovely but needy children - a padded room and happy pills seemed like a wonderful idea), after having two bottles from Nana, M. slept from 11:00 until 5:45 without a peep. I woke up, looked at the clock, and though he was dead. So after that, I did a little time at the milking machine I figured out that my milk supply was low. Instead of the recommended 5 to 8 ounces he should have been taking in at each feed, he was probably only getting 2 to 4, or less. Which explains why he wanted to eat all the time, all hours of the day and night. We started topping him up with formula which helped a little, but not as much as I would have hoped. I accused Nana of putting a nip of vodka or scotch in his bottle, only because I wanted to do the same, but she denied it. We were just at the doctor today for his 5-month check-up and the poor kid is still in the 20th or 25th percentile for weight. He had his first bowl of rice cereal tonight and gobbled it down like someone who had been lost in the woods for a week with no food. He's been ready for food for a while. He's one of those kids who watches you eat with an almost uncomfortable intensity. Probably because he was wasting away from hunger. I had an Orange Julius today at the mall and he was desperately trying to get it from me. I thought that would probably not be the best food to start him on. Maybe in a couple more months.
3) We all got sick. J. first, then D., then M. and then me. J. is now experiencing hearing loss again from blocked ears, but after a visit to the doctor, we're just keeping and eye on it to see if it goes away. I'm still fighting it after two weeks, but since I never get to rest, it will probably stick around until April!
4) J. turned 4 and I decided that this was the year that I needed to make his cake, despite having pawned it off on various other family members every year prior, when I had only one kid and was not going postal from sleep deprivation. I was trying to lower the bar on birthday parties and while I did in some ways, the Type A part of my brain still got its two cents in.
So I was really focusing on the bottom of the triangle of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and not really paying attention to that self-actualization bit at the top. But hopefully I can get back in the saddle and start doing this at least once a week. Okay, well my big kid who is even less patient than the 4-year old, is calling me upstairs because he wants to watch "Dragon's Den" now. Right now!
More about the new house later. It has a 24 by 17 basement room that is going to be the playroom! It has a lot of other things going for it, but truly that playroom is all I care about. I think about it all the time. It will change my life.
Better go before I have to deal with a temper trantrum!
M.
Here's what went down:
1) We listed and sold our place and bought another within three weeks. Yes, in this market. The gods were smiling upon us and the perfect buyers fell in our lap. Had they not come along, I'm sure it would still be on the market, or we would have given up and taken it off because keeping it clean for open houses was just about killing me.
2) The adorable baby M. - still not sleeping through the night. Turns out, I didn't actually have a sleep problem, I had a food problem. I was starving him to death. After going out to see Madonna on October 30 (a day that just about saw me check myself into the pysch ward at Lions Gate Hospital due to lack of sleep and house-selling stress combined with lovely but needy children - a padded room and happy pills seemed like a wonderful idea), after having two bottles from Nana, M. slept from 11:00 until 5:45 without a peep. I woke up, looked at the clock, and though he was dead. So after that, I did a little time at the milking machine I figured out that my milk supply was low. Instead of the recommended 5 to 8 ounces he should have been taking in at each feed, he was probably only getting 2 to 4, or less. Which explains why he wanted to eat all the time, all hours of the day and night. We started topping him up with formula which helped a little, but not as much as I would have hoped. I accused Nana of putting a nip of vodka or scotch in his bottle, only because I wanted to do the same, but she denied it. We were just at the doctor today for his 5-month check-up and the poor kid is still in the 20th or 25th percentile for weight. He had his first bowl of rice cereal tonight and gobbled it down like someone who had been lost in the woods for a week with no food. He's been ready for food for a while. He's one of those kids who watches you eat with an almost uncomfortable intensity. Probably because he was wasting away from hunger. I had an Orange Julius today at the mall and he was desperately trying to get it from me. I thought that would probably not be the best food to start him on. Maybe in a couple more months.
3) We all got sick. J. first, then D., then M. and then me. J. is now experiencing hearing loss again from blocked ears, but after a visit to the doctor, we're just keeping and eye on it to see if it goes away. I'm still fighting it after two weeks, but since I never get to rest, it will probably stick around until April!
4) J. turned 4 and I decided that this was the year that I needed to make his cake, despite having pawned it off on various other family members every year prior, when I had only one kid and was not going postal from sleep deprivation. I was trying to lower the bar on birthday parties and while I did in some ways, the Type A part of my brain still got its two cents in.
So I was really focusing on the bottom of the triangle of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs and not really paying attention to that self-actualization bit at the top. But hopefully I can get back in the saddle and start doing this at least once a week. Okay, well my big kid who is even less patient than the 4-year old, is calling me upstairs because he wants to watch "Dragon's Den" now. Right now!
More about the new house later. It has a 24 by 17 basement room that is going to be the playroom! It has a lot of other things going for it, but truly that playroom is all I care about. I think about it all the time. It will change my life.
Better go before I have to deal with a temper trantrum!
M.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Brownies Are Now Pinkies
Update on the soother situation - it's one step forward, two steps back. M. is putting up more of a fight than I thought he was capable of. I will break him and he will sleep again. He has his fourth-month shots today so it probably won't be tonight. I plan to dope him up with Tylenol and hope for the best.
As for the title of this one, when I was picking up J. at preschool today, I noticed all these little girls running around in all-pink ensembles, then I noticed the sash with badges and my heart sank. They were Brownies, no longer wearing brown. They looked like little Barbies and it just made me sad. Yet another great childhood memory destroyed. Well, I guess my great memories of my Brownie experiences weren't destroyed, but just knowing that the integrity of the organization and all that it stood for was gone was heartbreaking.
Yet another reason I'm glad to have boys. I'm sure the Boy Scouts aren't all decked out in Buzz Lightyear or Lightning McQueen gear to appeal to whatever trend is hot. I'm sure they are wearing what they have always been wearing, but some genuius at the Girl Guides organization, in a knee-jerk reaction to declining enrollment, probably came up with the hot pink idea. And how backwards, degrading, and insulting to female intelligence is that? Yes, I know little girls like pink, but would it kill them, for an hour or two a week, to be part of an organization that focuses on personal achievement, sisterhood, learning, and challenging oneself rather than fashion? I'm sure Agnes and Olvae Baden-Powell rolled over in their graves when this came into effect.
I will still buy and eat their cookies, but I am feeling a bit soured towards the organization. I don't know what happened to the whole female empowerment movement in recent years, but it seems to be in cahoots with Paris Hilton and her ilk. Serenity now!
As for the title of this one, when I was picking up J. at preschool today, I noticed all these little girls running around in all-pink ensembles, then I noticed the sash with badges and my heart sank. They were Brownies, no longer wearing brown. They looked like little Barbies and it just made me sad. Yet another great childhood memory destroyed. Well, I guess my great memories of my Brownie experiences weren't destroyed, but just knowing that the integrity of the organization and all that it stood for was gone was heartbreaking.
Yet another reason I'm glad to have boys. I'm sure the Boy Scouts aren't all decked out in Buzz Lightyear or Lightning McQueen gear to appeal to whatever trend is hot. I'm sure they are wearing what they have always been wearing, but some genuius at the Girl Guides organization, in a knee-jerk reaction to declining enrollment, probably came up with the hot pink idea. And how backwards, degrading, and insulting to female intelligence is that? Yes, I know little girls like pink, but would it kill them, for an hour or two a week, to be part of an organization that focuses on personal achievement, sisterhood, learning, and challenging oneself rather than fashion? I'm sure Agnes and Olvae Baden-Powell rolled over in their graves when this came into effect.
I will still buy and eat their cookies, but I am feeling a bit soured towards the organization. I don't know what happened to the whole female empowerment movement in recent years, but it seems to be in cahoots with Paris Hilton and her ilk. Serenity now!
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Day The Soother Died
Well, we had an intervention and M. is going cold turkey off the soother and he is jonsing bad for it. He'll be four months old this week and I figured it was high time he learned that the world is in fact a cruel place and life is one crushing disappointment after another until you just wish Flanders was dead. (Sorry had to throw a "Simpsons" quote in for the one person who I know reads this for sure and will get it, R.H., aka "daboss".)
I had spent the past five? seven? ten? nights awake most of the night trying to convince the pint-sized terror that he wanted his soother and wanted to sleep to no avail. It was a vicious cycle, to say the least, and when I found myself wanting to punch him in his cute little baby head (but of course not acting on that impulse, although a few more nights without sleep and I'm not sure what I'd be capable of) I figured that if we were going to be up all night crying and screaming and awake, at least it would be on my terms.
It's been a rough 38 hours and while nighttime is hard, when I am truly at my weakest and want to take it all back is when we're in public and he's having a hissy fit. I know the soother will make it all better (and shut him up), but I'm willing to risk having people think I'm a terrible mother if it means we all eventually start sleeping. I'm sure they'll think I'm a much more terrible mother when I get arrested for trying to sell himn on Craigslist and they get to read about me in the paper.
Last night he got a bit of a respite as I feel asleep during our 1:44 AM feeding so he got to sleep with us, and did so with nary a fuss, for the rest of the night. But we won't be doing that again as it's just subsituting one crutch for another. After he gets over this hump and has a few days of happiness again, I'm going to stop the middle of the night feeding and rock his world all over again. Poor kid, not even four months old and the party's over. I think he's started teething too, so misery abounds.
In happy baby new, M. rolled over from back to front for the first time today and did it a few times so it really, really counts! He was very proud of himself, if not a little confused as to what had just happened. I'm sure crawling is just around the corner! Batten down the hatches!
I had spent the past five? seven? ten? nights awake most of the night trying to convince the pint-sized terror that he wanted his soother and wanted to sleep to no avail. It was a vicious cycle, to say the least, and when I found myself wanting to punch him in his cute little baby head (but of course not acting on that impulse, although a few more nights without sleep and I'm not sure what I'd be capable of) I figured that if we were going to be up all night crying and screaming and awake, at least it would be on my terms.
It's been a rough 38 hours and while nighttime is hard, when I am truly at my weakest and want to take it all back is when we're in public and he's having a hissy fit. I know the soother will make it all better (and shut him up), but I'm willing to risk having people think I'm a terrible mother if it means we all eventually start sleeping. I'm sure they'll think I'm a much more terrible mother when I get arrested for trying to sell himn on Craigslist and they get to read about me in the paper.
Last night he got a bit of a respite as I feel asleep during our 1:44 AM feeding so he got to sleep with us, and did so with nary a fuss, for the rest of the night. But we won't be doing that again as it's just subsituting one crutch for another. After he gets over this hump and has a few days of happiness again, I'm going to stop the middle of the night feeding and rock his world all over again. Poor kid, not even four months old and the party's over. I think he's started teething too, so misery abounds.
In happy baby new, M. rolled over from back to front for the first time today and did it a few times so it really, really counts! He was very proud of himself, if not a little confused as to what had just happened. I'm sure crawling is just around the corner! Batten down the hatches!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
A Man's Opinion
So, while no one else wanted to touch my last post and comment, after reading it, D. came upstairs and said, "You forget that while those kids mom is Jenna Jameson, their dad is going to be Tito Ortiz. They will be the perfect mix of sex and agression."
I think that just about sums up the male mind in a nutshell. What am I in for? Really, I do think I'm going to need some sort support group come the teen years when it will be testosterone city around here. Maybe sooner.
I think that just about sums up the male mind in a nutshell. What am I in for? Really, I do think I'm going to need some sort support group come the teen years when it will be testosterone city around here. Maybe sooner.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Uber-M.I.L.F.!*
* M.I.L.F. - Mom I'd Like to F--- (I thought everyone was familiar with that term, but recently came across someone who wasn't and had to explain. It was a bit awkward. Does no one watch the best show on television, "30 Rock"? There was a hilarious episode last season with the best reality show ever, "M.I.L.F. Island". "30 Rock" premieres on Thursday, October 30 - give Tina Fey some love people!)
Okay, back to my real point. Some of you may not even know who Jenna Jameson is, but she is probably the most famous female porn star in the world. I've never seen her work, but I know of her mostly because she is currently dating Tito Ortiz, who is an Ultimate Fighter, and my big boy, not the 3-year old, but the one to whom I am legally married, is obsessed with all things UFC (Ultimate Fighting Champion? Championship?).
So Jenna is now retired, but from my understanding, she was not on the softcore end of the pornography world, she was up for just about anything. When I first heard that she was pregnant, I thought "now there's a woman who should not be having children". Not because I disagree with her choice of profession. As far as I'm concerned, consenting adults can do whatever they want to do, but I more thought about what life will be like for the child of a woman who starred in such films as "Up and Cummers 10". It seems a little selfish to subject a child to that.
And then I thought about what would be worse. To be the daughter or son of Jenna Jameson? After not-that-extensive musing, I have decided that a boy would be worse. Let's face it, by the time this kid is 14, every single one of his friends is going to have seen parts of his mother that he probably hasn't seen since birth. And that won't be the worst of it. How many times is he going to have to hear someone jeeringly ask him if his mom breastfed him?
And that's going to last his entire life. He'll be in a job interview and will just know that the guy interviewing his is imagining his mother in all sorts of situations I won't describe here. He'll be at a bachelor party where people don't really know him and someone will pop on some "retro porn" and there will be his mother again, doing things I won't describe here.
But then if she had a daughter, every guy is going to assume that she is some over-sexed nympho. The teen years are already hellish enough without that albatross around your neck. Heck, all you have to do is develop boobs early and every guy assumes you're easy (so I've heard)!
And lucky Jenna, there won't be just one baby, but two as she's been "blessed" (translation = invitro fertilization) with twins. I think this really is the silver lining in all this because at least these poor kids will have each other to lean on. There will be someone who understands exactly what the other is going though.
But then other porn stars must have kids. Maybe they have a support group already? I know I'd need one.
Okay, back to my real point. Some of you may not even know who Jenna Jameson is, but she is probably the most famous female porn star in the world. I've never seen her work, but I know of her mostly because she is currently dating Tito Ortiz, who is an Ultimate Fighter, and my big boy, not the 3-year old, but the one to whom I am legally married, is obsessed with all things UFC (Ultimate Fighting Champion? Championship?).
So Jenna is now retired, but from my understanding, she was not on the softcore end of the pornography world, she was up for just about anything. When I first heard that she was pregnant, I thought "now there's a woman who should not be having children". Not because I disagree with her choice of profession. As far as I'm concerned, consenting adults can do whatever they want to do, but I more thought about what life will be like for the child of a woman who starred in such films as "Up and Cummers 10". It seems a little selfish to subject a child to that.
And then I thought about what would be worse. To be the daughter or son of Jenna Jameson? After not-that-extensive musing, I have decided that a boy would be worse. Let's face it, by the time this kid is 14, every single one of his friends is going to have seen parts of his mother that he probably hasn't seen since birth. And that won't be the worst of it. How many times is he going to have to hear someone jeeringly ask him if his mom breastfed him?
And that's going to last his entire life. He'll be in a job interview and will just know that the guy interviewing his is imagining his mother in all sorts of situations I won't describe here. He'll be at a bachelor party where people don't really know him and someone will pop on some "retro porn" and there will be his mother again, doing things I won't describe here.
But then if she had a daughter, every guy is going to assume that she is some over-sexed nympho. The teen years are already hellish enough without that albatross around your neck. Heck, all you have to do is develop boobs early and every guy assumes you're easy (so I've heard)!
And lucky Jenna, there won't be just one baby, but two as she's been "blessed" (translation = invitro fertilization) with twins. I think this really is the silver lining in all this because at least these poor kids will have each other to lean on. There will be someone who understands exactly what the other is going though.
But then other porn stars must have kids. Maybe they have a support group already? I know I'd need one.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Some of the things I will miss being an M.O.B.
- No cute patterned tights with skirts.
- No one to hand down my wedding dress to (I figured I should just sell it now but D. talked me out of it. First time he's been sentimental in his life I think!)
- Once they are grown and in relationships, I will always just be the mother-in-law.
- Watching "chick flicks" alone.
- No pink tutus and first ballet class. This coming from the woman who is about as graceful as a drunk rhino. Who knows, maybe grace would have skipped a generation?
That's about it. I'm sure a few more things will pop up over the years, but that's really about it. A fairly short list and nothing that can't be gotten over quite easily. Let's just say I'm not losing any sleep over it (although I am losing lots of sleep for other reasons!).
On the plus side, having another boy has probably saved us tens of thousands of dollars as I will not need to shop for new adorable girl clothes. There are a lot of cute clothes for boys out there, but for every one cute boy thing, there are at least 10 cute girl things.
On the down side, poor M. is probably rarely going to have anything new to wear (or play with) that hasn't been handed down from his big brother. And I'm sure J. will make a point of reminding him of that fact all the time. As a middle child of three girls, that bugged me a bit growing up, but hopefully boys don't care about that kind of stuff. And he does have a few new things that are his alone.
It's been a trying week without much sleep so this may come across as a little uninspired. We're trying to convince M. that he wants to sleep alone and though the night. He's not really going for it. I'm pretty sure he can sense my fatigue and weakness and is using it against me. Although I remember from last time, just when you got to the point where you thought you could not handle it for a second more and were mentally drafting the Craigslist posting to sell your baby, they tend to return from the dark side. It's like they just need to let you know who's really in charge and what they are capable of.
Stay tuned for my next missive on "Terrorists and Infants: A Contrast/ Comparison of their Techniques & Tactics".
Monday, September 29, 2008
Another Reason I'm Glad To Be a M.O.B.
What toddler needs a padded bra?
A mother wanders into the children's section of a store and is surprised to find sexy lingerie
REBECCA ECKLER September 24, 2008
http://www.macleans.ca/culture/lifestyle/article.jsp?content=20080924_32935_32935
At the Nordstrom department store in Scottsdale, Ariz., I'm standing in front of a rack of bras and nighties. The bras are made with padding and underwire. The nightgowns are lacy, see-through and sexy, something I'd buy to wear for someone else, if you know what I mean. The bras and nighties don't come in my size. I am, after all, in the toddler section of the store.
What toddler needs a bra? Or sexy lingerie? Is this just an American thing, I wonder? "Alas, selling bras to little girls is becoming normal in America," says M. Gigi Durham, author of The Lolita Effect: The Media Sexualization of Young Girls and What We Can Do About It. "The bras are padded and in push-up varieties, and there are matching thong panties too. These come in preschoolers' size. I've been told that moms go wild for them," she says. Moms? Durham herself has two young daughters, ages seven and 10. She believes manufacturers market what she calls "hypersexual" kids' garments in order to create "cradle-to-grave" consumers for these kinds of products. "There's no consideration of what kind of an impact this is having on girls' lives," she says.
Children's bras, it turns out, have been creating controversy outside North America. Tesco, a British retail chain, came under attack earlier this year for marketing a padded bra to seven- and eight-year-olds. Tesco released the following statement in its defence. "It is a product designed for girls at that self-conscious age when they are just developing. It is designed to cover up, not flatter, and was developed after speaking to parents."
Apparently not all parents. The handful of mommy bloggers who write about toddler bras all seem to have the same reaction: "Yuck!" Canadian Erica Ehm, founder of the online magazine Yummymummyclub.ca, and who has a five-year-old daughter, says bras for toddlers and children are "obscene" and "disgusting." They should wear bras "when they start to get breasts. It's bad enough that my daughter got a makeup kit and high heels for her last birthday."
I decide to go on a Canadian shopping trip to Old Navy, after calling to ask if they sell children's bras. They do, for six- to 12-year-olds. "We're going bra shopping," I tell my almost-five-year-old daughter. "For me?" she asks, excitedly.
At Old Navy, sure enough, I see the bras in the children's section. My daughter picks out a pink-and-white striped one, with lace around the shoulders. It's padded. The size is 30 A. I pick out another one — for research purposes — also a 30 A, with underwire. They are $12.50 each. The bras could fit on one of my daughter's large stuffed animals. "Let's go home," my daughter says. "And play bra!"
Mommy blogger Vanessa Johnson lives outside San Francisco and works in advertising. Her daughters are six and seven. She tells me she was shocked when she was with her daughters at one of the discount American stores, TJ Maxx, and saw the children's bras. "My daughter really wanted one. But I was appalled because of the padding." Johnson said no to her daughter. At first. "I said no and tried to change the subject, but she kept talking about them. I mentioned it to a cousin who has an older daughter who said that her daughter went through a wanting-a-bra phase, and she bought her a sports bra. So I compromised and got my daughters each a sports bra."
Johnson says that at first it was non-stop bra talk in her home. Her daughters would wear them and say, "I love my bra." And they'd ask questions like, "Can you wear a bra to the movies? Can you wear a bra to go out and eat?" "I thought, 'Oh no, what have I done?' " says Johnson. "My eldest wore it under her uniform to school one Monday, but by Tuesday she was over it. Now she only pulls it out once in a blue moon. But last week we were at another store and my daughter saw some bras and said, 'They're so pretty.' They are obviously aware of them."
My own daughter forgot about the Old Navy bras by the time we got home. Two days later she found them and put on the pink-and-white-striped padded one. It fit her. She wouldn't take it off. She wore it to sleep. I told her she couldn't wear her bra out of the house. Thanks to the padding, she looked creepy — like a four-year-old who was going through puberty with budding breasts. We argued and argued. I figure I asked for it. Introduce a bra to a five-year-old and you'll soon be fighting with a teenager.
A mother wanders into the children's section of a store and is surprised to find sexy lingerie
REBECCA ECKLER September 24, 2008
http://www.macleans.ca/culture/lifestyle/article.jsp?content=20080924_32935_32935
At the Nordstrom department store in Scottsdale, Ariz., I'm standing in front of a rack of bras and nighties. The bras are made with padding and underwire. The nightgowns are lacy, see-through and sexy, something I'd buy to wear for someone else, if you know what I mean. The bras and nighties don't come in my size. I am, after all, in the toddler section of the store.
What toddler needs a bra? Or sexy lingerie? Is this just an American thing, I wonder? "Alas, selling bras to little girls is becoming normal in America," says M. Gigi Durham, author of The Lolita Effect: The Media Sexualization of Young Girls and What We Can Do About It. "The bras are padded and in push-up varieties, and there are matching thong panties too. These come in preschoolers' size. I've been told that moms go wild for them," she says. Moms? Durham herself has two young daughters, ages seven and 10. She believes manufacturers market what she calls "hypersexual" kids' garments in order to create "cradle-to-grave" consumers for these kinds of products. "There's no consideration of what kind of an impact this is having on girls' lives," she says.
Children's bras, it turns out, have been creating controversy outside North America. Tesco, a British retail chain, came under attack earlier this year for marketing a padded bra to seven- and eight-year-olds. Tesco released the following statement in its defence. "It is a product designed for girls at that self-conscious age when they are just developing. It is designed to cover up, not flatter, and was developed after speaking to parents."
Apparently not all parents. The handful of mommy bloggers who write about toddler bras all seem to have the same reaction: "Yuck!" Canadian Erica Ehm, founder of the online magazine Yummymummyclub.ca, and who has a five-year-old daughter, says bras for toddlers and children are "obscene" and "disgusting." They should wear bras "when they start to get breasts. It's bad enough that my daughter got a makeup kit and high heels for her last birthday."
I decide to go on a Canadian shopping trip to Old Navy, after calling to ask if they sell children's bras. They do, for six- to 12-year-olds. "We're going bra shopping," I tell my almost-five-year-old daughter. "For me?" she asks, excitedly.
At Old Navy, sure enough, I see the bras in the children's section. My daughter picks out a pink-and-white striped one, with lace around the shoulders. It's padded. The size is 30 A. I pick out another one — for research purposes — also a 30 A, with underwire. They are $12.50 each. The bras could fit on one of my daughter's large stuffed animals. "Let's go home," my daughter says. "And play bra!"
Mommy blogger Vanessa Johnson lives outside San Francisco and works in advertising. Her daughters are six and seven. She tells me she was shocked when she was with her daughters at one of the discount American stores, TJ Maxx, and saw the children's bras. "My daughter really wanted one. But I was appalled because of the padding." Johnson said no to her daughter. At first. "I said no and tried to change the subject, but she kept talking about them. I mentioned it to a cousin who has an older daughter who said that her daughter went through a wanting-a-bra phase, and she bought her a sports bra. So I compromised and got my daughters each a sports bra."
Johnson says that at first it was non-stop bra talk in her home. Her daughters would wear them and say, "I love my bra." And they'd ask questions like, "Can you wear a bra to the movies? Can you wear a bra to go out and eat?" "I thought, 'Oh no, what have I done?' " says Johnson. "My eldest wore it under her uniform to school one Monday, but by Tuesday she was over it. Now she only pulls it out once in a blue moon. But last week we were at another store and my daughter saw some bras and said, 'They're so pretty.' They are obviously aware of them."
My own daughter forgot about the Old Navy bras by the time we got home. Two days later she found them and put on the pink-and-white-striped padded one. It fit her. She wouldn't take it off. She wore it to sleep. I told her she couldn't wear her bra out of the house. Thanks to the padding, she looked creepy — like a four-year-old who was going through puberty with budding breasts. We argued and argued. I figure I asked for it. Introduce a bra to a five-year-old and you'll soon be fighting with a teenager.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Psycho Killer - Qu'est-ce que c'est?
So ... is anyone else out there worried that their son might be the next big serial killer to hit Canada? Or perhaps a potential school shooter?
J., at the ripe old age of three years and 10 months, has developed a fascination, nay, an obsession, with guns and killing. He talks about it ... a lot. Thankfully, it's more often than not in a protective way towards me or his brother, M. as in "If someone tried to take M., I'd shoot them and kill them." So while the sentiment is strangely loving, it's still a bit worrisome.
There's also talk about when he's a big boy and can get a real gun. I'm hoping this is a completely normal developmental phase. Someone please reassure me of this. Growing up with only sisters, I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to deal with this. We were all about vicious name calling and the like. Not violence.
That being said, I did babysit for a family of three boys next door when I was a teenager and one of them pulled a butcher knife on his brother one time (the middle child, of course!) and all of them are normal, functioning adults so perhaps I need not worry too much.
He hasn't started torturing bugs or animals yet which I've read is a definite precursor to sociopathic tendencies so that's good news. Wait, he did kill a wood bug today, but it was accidental and he felt bad about it. Good sign. We had a funeral for it and burried it out in the yard after I explained to him what a funeral was.
As for the title of this post, I'm really hoping that most of you get the pop culture reference. I know my favourite husband and a F.O.B., R.H. will get it, but this is a test for the rest of you. I'm finally getting to an age where a lot of my pop culture references are totally going over the heads of younger people I encounter. I think I am offically old.
J., at the ripe old age of three years and 10 months, has developed a fascination, nay, an obsession, with guns and killing. He talks about it ... a lot. Thankfully, it's more often than not in a protective way towards me or his brother, M. as in "If someone tried to take M., I'd shoot them and kill them." So while the sentiment is strangely loving, it's still a bit worrisome.
There's also talk about when he's a big boy and can get a real gun. I'm hoping this is a completely normal developmental phase. Someone please reassure me of this. Growing up with only sisters, I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to deal with this. We were all about vicious name calling and the like. Not violence.
That being said, I did babysit for a family of three boys next door when I was a teenager and one of them pulled a butcher knife on his brother one time (the middle child, of course!) and all of them are normal, functioning adults so perhaps I need not worry too much.
He hasn't started torturing bugs or animals yet which I've read is a definite precursor to sociopathic tendencies so that's good news. Wait, he did kill a wood bug today, but it was accidental and he felt bad about it. Good sign. We had a funeral for it and burried it out in the yard after I explained to him what a funeral was.
As for the title of this post, I'm really hoping that most of you get the pop culture reference. I know my favourite husband and a F.O.B., R.H. will get it, but this is a test for the rest of you. I'm finally getting to an age where a lot of my pop culture references are totally going over the heads of younger people I encounter. I think I am offically old.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Great comments!
Ah, I knew fellow M.O.B.'s (and F.O.B.'s) would understand! My community/support group is forming! And so far it's made up of laugh-out-loud funny people so even better! Thank goodness I'm neither crafty nor arty so I won't have to get over not sharing that with J. & M. J. does like to bake though so I'm going to have to ramp up my domestic skills in the kitchen.
I was thinking through my group of friends and there are actually a huge number of all boy families. Not that I'm excluding those with both boys and girls from enjoying this blog, but I think there is a unique dynamic to those families with only boys in the house. I distinctly recally my M.O.B. guru/mentor, K. (the Martha Stewart mentioned in the comments) telling me about how she and R. (aka Mr. Martha Stewart) would fight over whose turn it was to go to the emergency room when one of their boys got hurt because it happened with somewhat regular frequency.
For some reason, even before I had kids, I knew deep down that I was destined to be the mother of boys. I have no idea why I felt this, but I was convinced that it didn't matter how many kids I had, they would all be boys. Thankfully we are stopping at two so I'll never known for sure. But my gut tells me that my womb prefers the Y chromosome. I would be like that crazy family on TLC's "Kids By The Dozen", the Arndt's with 13 boys and 1 girl, except without the girl.
That show is like a car crash. I know I shouldn't be watching, but I can't look away. And why do all those crazy women all home school their children? They all do it! (I suspect it might have something to do with the theory of evolution versus creationism but that's just a hunch ...) If I had 14 or more kids, I'd be dancing a jig each time one of them went off to school! I was at a birthday party recently and was talking with another mom about how J. was about to start pre-school and she told me how she was disappointed because she hadn't been able to get her son into a "parent participation" preschool. Am I one of the only people who believes it's good for kids to have lives beyond their parents and on the flip side, good for parents to have lives beyond their kids? Because sometimes I think I'm in the minority. I think I actually laughed in her face and said that the whole reason J. was going to preschool is so that he would be out of my hair for a couple hours a day! Our conversation ended shortly thereafter. The sleep deprevation really had made me even more of a loose cannon than before. I'm sure I'm really going to p*ss somebody off one of these days.
Well, off to rustle up some semblance of dinner. M. has been waking up at night again for the last little while and so I am getting back to not really being able to handle much each day. I really think I could stay in bed and sleep for a week if given the opportunity. I can't wait for the teen years when we can all sleep until noon. Sigh.
M.
I was thinking through my group of friends and there are actually a huge number of all boy families. Not that I'm excluding those with both boys and girls from enjoying this blog, but I think there is a unique dynamic to those families with only boys in the house. I distinctly recally my M.O.B. guru/mentor, K. (the Martha Stewart mentioned in the comments) telling me about how she and R. (aka Mr. Martha Stewart) would fight over whose turn it was to go to the emergency room when one of their boys got hurt because it happened with somewhat regular frequency.
For some reason, even before I had kids, I knew deep down that I was destined to be the mother of boys. I have no idea why I felt this, but I was convinced that it didn't matter how many kids I had, they would all be boys. Thankfully we are stopping at two so I'll never known for sure. But my gut tells me that my womb prefers the Y chromosome. I would be like that crazy family on TLC's "Kids By The Dozen", the Arndt's with 13 boys and 1 girl, except without the girl.
That show is like a car crash. I know I shouldn't be watching, but I can't look away. And why do all those crazy women all home school their children? They all do it! (I suspect it might have something to do with the theory of evolution versus creationism but that's just a hunch ...) If I had 14 or more kids, I'd be dancing a jig each time one of them went off to school! I was at a birthday party recently and was talking with another mom about how J. was about to start pre-school and she told me how she was disappointed because she hadn't been able to get her son into a "parent participation" preschool. Am I one of the only people who believes it's good for kids to have lives beyond their parents and on the flip side, good for parents to have lives beyond their kids? Because sometimes I think I'm in the minority. I think I actually laughed in her face and said that the whole reason J. was going to preschool is so that he would be out of my hair for a couple hours a day! Our conversation ended shortly thereafter. The sleep deprevation really had made me even more of a loose cannon than before. I'm sure I'm really going to p*ss somebody off one of these days.
Well, off to rustle up some semblance of dinner. M. has been waking up at night again for the last little while and so I am getting back to not really being able to handle much each day. I really think I could stay in bed and sleep for a week if given the opportunity. I can't wait for the teen years when we can all sleep until noon. Sigh.
M.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I've started again...
After a great start and then pathetic fizzling out a couple years ago, I've decided to give blogging a try again.
Welcome to "M.O.B. Mentality", with M.O.B. standing for Mother of Boys. I figure I'll start an online community/support group that can then spill over into informal gatherings of us mothers of boys where we can commiserate and share tips and coping strategies for managing the crazy whirlwind that comes with having boys in the house. (And yes, that includes husbands who really are just little boys trapped in big bodies.)
I figure eventually my witty ramblings will get me noticed by Oprah and then lead to a book and movie deal as well as my own nationally syndicated talk show (US-based, of course, because who watches Canadian television, other than my mother?). From all that, I will become a gazillionaire and can live out my dream of travelling the world, with my unruly mob, and helping those less fortunate. Sounds completely reasonable, right?
I'm sure those delusions might have something to do with my severely sleep-compromised brain, but heck, stranger things have happened, so why not dream big. Not quite sure what I'll be writing about, or how often, but I'm sure J. (soon to turn 4 but going on 14) and M. (three months next week) will provide me with lots of material.
Today, J. wanted to jump on his bed and when I told him no, he informed me that he was going to run away. And when I asked him where he planned to go, he said "on an adventure by myself and then you'll be sad." I really didn't think I was going to have to deal with that kind of drama until the teen years, but then again, my little genius always has been wise beyond his years.
With that, I need to go feed M. The little bugger is not getting on board with my "sleep through the night" program. I suspect it could be a growth spurt because we had been doing okay, but this is the second one in three weeks, so perhaps he's just becoming a snacker. I'm trying to power feed him today so he'll have a full belly and stay asleep for a good chunk of the night. Wish me luck.
M.
Welcome to "M.O.B. Mentality", with M.O.B. standing for Mother of Boys. I figure I'll start an online community/support group that can then spill over into informal gatherings of us mothers of boys where we can commiserate and share tips and coping strategies for managing the crazy whirlwind that comes with having boys in the house. (And yes, that includes husbands who really are just little boys trapped in big bodies.)
I figure eventually my witty ramblings will get me noticed by Oprah and then lead to a book and movie deal as well as my own nationally syndicated talk show (US-based, of course, because who watches Canadian television, other than my mother?). From all that, I will become a gazillionaire and can live out my dream of travelling the world, with my unruly mob, and helping those less fortunate. Sounds completely reasonable, right?
I'm sure those delusions might have something to do with my severely sleep-compromised brain, but heck, stranger things have happened, so why not dream big. Not quite sure what I'll be writing about, or how often, but I'm sure J. (soon to turn 4 but going on 14) and M. (three months next week) will provide me with lots of material.
Today, J. wanted to jump on his bed and when I told him no, he informed me that he was going to run away. And when I asked him where he planned to go, he said "on an adventure by myself and then you'll be sad." I really didn't think I was going to have to deal with that kind of drama until the teen years, but then again, my little genius always has been wise beyond his years.
With that, I need to go feed M. The little bugger is not getting on board with my "sleep through the night" program. I suspect it could be a growth spurt because we had been doing okay, but this is the second one in three weeks, so perhaps he's just becoming a snacker. I'm trying to power feed him today so he'll have a full belly and stay asleep for a good chunk of the night. Wish me luck.
M.
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