Teeny Manolo

I’m selfishly happy to say that a full seventy-six percent of you have felt the unfamiliar sting of “oldness” from the way a young person spoke to you. Mine happened to be a handsome young man conducting a CT scan, and I was feeling pretty good about myself after cracking a few jokes. At least until he called me “dear” and then I knew my life was over. Kidding, it certainly wasn’t over, but it sure didn’t make me feel any better. And as for the three percent of you who have never had a young person call you a certain something, just wait, your time will come.

Today I want to talk about the circus. Yes, the circus, which is coming to town.  Actually, it could be any place that keeps and trains animals for the entertainment of people.

I’m sure you’ve heard by now from one source or another about the study results released yesterday about how SNACKS ARE EVIL and DESTROYING OUR YOUTH.

Can I get a communal groan from the peanut gallery?

I’m sorry, but this is yet another study in which people (read: fat haters, of which there are an alarmingly large amount) get all hysterical and finger-pointy at us poor parents.  Who are obviously doing everything wrong.

My son is as skinny as the proverbial rail.  When I buy him pants, we have to notch the waistband as tightly as possible, or else he will find himself inadvertently displaying his drawers to the public.

Does he eat some unhealthy snacks?

Hell yes.

You see, I believe that it is important to give kids choices in life, and to not micromanage every single thing that passes their lips.  Believe it or not, even though he has unhealthier options available to him, he often chooses healthy ones first.

Even more key? Getting him out of the house and running around.

But you know what? He is lucky because we can afford healthy foods, and we live in an area that provides ample open and park spaces in which to play.

It’s been noted by people more scholarly than myself that socioeconomic levels have a lot to do with children and their exposure to healthy food and lifestyle choices.

 Why don’t people get all riled up about that?

You know, because being pregnant isn’t already uncomfortable enough.

At least, that’s what Heidi Klum thinks that a pregnant woman needs, and will be charging you a cool $550 for the privilege of wearing them.

She’s got maternity collections out at both Pea in the Pod and Motherhood Maternity.

I’m looking at them both, and frankly, she’s not really making it work.

Yes, the fashion shows are lovely and exciting, but it’s easy to forget who is actually on those runways.  It is all too common for designers to use tweens and teens to model their clothes, since I’m guessing that an as-yet fully developed body has the right structure to show off their designs.  Let’s pause for a moment and ponder the wrongness of that.

We’ve come a long way since the 80’s supermodels such as Naomi Campbell and Cindy Crawford, both of whom were grown women in their heyday, and sported very curvy bodies (at least as far as the fashion world is concerned, not the real one, which is a story for another time).  But for some reason designers abandoned that look and now push a much more emaciated looking model as perfection.

Take this statement from my new fave model, Coco Rocha, which reads in part:

But this issue of model’s weight is, and always has been, of concern to me. There are certain moral decisions which seem like no brainers to us. For example, not employing children in sweatshops, and not increasing the addictiveness of cigarettes. When designers, stylists or agents push children to take measures that lead to anorexia or other health problems in order to remain in the business, they are asking the public to ignore their moral conscience in favor of the art.

Surely, we all see how morally wrong it is for an adult to convince an already thin 15 year old that she is actually too fat. It is unforgivable that an adult should demand that the girl unnaturally lose the weight vital to keep her body functioning properly. How can any person justify an aesthetic that reduces a woman or child to an emaciated skeleton? Is it art? Surely fashion’s aesthetic should enhance and beautify the human form, not destroy it.

 

Her entire statement is wonderfully written, and worth reading in its entirety.

As always, the consumer is the one with the power of the pocketbook, and it should be up to us to swing the pendulum back in the proper direction.  Because teenagers are not the ones buying these clothes, even though they have been deemed the proper vessels to showcase them.

We’ve got a bunch of dual-purpose washers in here, as fifty percent of you said you are fine with a bath or a shower, it all depends. But another large chunk of you, thirty eight percent, were fairly rabidly anti-bath. This verifies what I’ve seen before, that people who dislike baths really dislike baths. Me? I mostly take showers, but I’ve been known to take a bath or three.

Today I’m a day late, but only fifty cents short on a Valentine’s Day poll.

Yes, there is yet another wave of products on the ever-increasing baby market that claim to make your child smarter, even in utero!

They are being dubbed “womb boxes” and for some strange reason, parents are falling into the trap of technology=better. Some are beaming in classical music, while others like Sheila and Ian Savage simply feel that their voices are “too muffled” for the baby to hear them without amplification.

Say what?

There is one parent quoted in the article who piped Mozart to her unborn sons, and they wound up becoming successful professional musicians.  But the article also states that the father is a professional musician as well, so I’m guessing it’s not a stretch that there is musical talent running in the family, regardless of their appreciation of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik at 30 weeks gestation.

Actually, there is a quote from a physician that perfectly expresses how I feel:

“This could be a hindrance to a baby’s sleep cycle,” says Dr. David Cabbad, a pediatrician at the Brooklyn Hospital Center.

“Why don’t we just let the baby develop normally in utero? Let him hear the father screaming at the mother, the TV, the phone ringing, and then when he gets out let him deal with that. It’s not natural. They’re in a womb, a protected atmosphere. Now you’re going to give them outside interference? Why don’t we give them a cellphone, too?”

Yes, you read that right.

I hate coffee.

I”ve never liked it, even when my dad would give me sips of his (black) coffee as a kid.  Well, maybe that is why I dislike it so much, as coffee with nothing in it is akin to unfiltered motor oil.

In this Starbucks nation, I am a tea drinker, which puts me in some assuredly tiny minority of people who have never ever tasted a Frappuccino.

And don’t anyone try to tell me what I’m missing, because I know that I am missing absolutely nothing. 

Even the name turns me off, reminding me of all sorts of things. Tuberculosis comes first to mind.

Coffee leaves a horrid taste in my mouth that nothing short of sandblasting my mouth can get rid of.  Not to mention the bad breath, and coffee lovers, you are deluding yourselves that you are immune from the dreaded fire-breathing coffee effect.

Give me tea any day.  I”ll take it green, or Earl Grey, or Darjeeling, or any number of ways except perhaps for orange.    Sit me down at a formal tea, and I am a happy girl, delicately partaking of my scones, lemon curd, and clotted cream.  

Listen, there is tea picked by monkeys and there is coffee pooped by monkeys.

That tells me all I need to know.

The above picture of David Beckham is now totally ruined for me because of this:

According to copyranter, this really bad idea was dreamed up by an advertising agency for Goodnites, a product designed to help with bed wetting. I don’t know what kind of drugs they were on at the time, but hey, any kind of publicity is good, right? Even if it exploits children! Because sex sells, uh, children’s bedwetting protectors!  Right?

At this point, quit a few of the toys received for Christmas have lost their “newness” cachet and are sitting in the Munchkin’s room along with things he got two years ago. 

Maybe I just have a jaded kid.

But I think he is fairly typical of children in this day and age, who most likely get way too many toys that are just bought for the sake of having something for them to open.

The Munchkin got exactly seven wrapped presents and some stocking stuffers from “Santa” on Christmas morning, and I say that because he already has figured out that there is no such thing as Santa. 

Now I’m sure I have a jaded kid.

But the seven gifts were chosen very carefully, and I think having a few gifts that are chosen in that manner is better than having a bazillion presents which all get tossed aside.

Or maybe it’s just me who is jaded.

I’m feeling the pressure to list a “greatest hits” list of ‘09 just like everybody else, and I’m busy enough to cave.

So, feel free to take a look back at the year that was here at Teeny Manolo.  Here’s a sampling of some of our most visited/most commented/most popular posts.

Oh, to be a man today.

A child molester is a child molester, period.

Sex toy or baby toy?

Raincoaster’s Five Fingers of Fug.

Teeny Manolo channels Samuel L. Jackson.

What 45,000 British Pounds will get you, which is not a lot…

Winner of the most digusting recipe EVAH.

Did Jesus start this way?

The debate on the evils of capri pants.  Who knew the topic was so heated?

Jackman versus Craig, a feast for the eyes!