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When Grownups Play

Continuing our theme of “Grownups at Play” from the Friday Caption Contest, I couldn’t resist passing this along from Gawker; it’s art! It’s a protest! It’s comedy! It’s tragedy! It’s a Flashfrozen-mob!

It’s ImprovEverywhere.com‘s 200-person strong motionless event at Grand Central Station, and it’s bizarre, beautiful, and hilarious. More grownups should have the courage to do something just because it’s fun, and maybe a little because it’s weird, too. Would you do this?

Parenting Code Violation Alert!

Matthew McConaughey: Brushing your teeth is important, kids!

Oh Matthew, you’ve gone and done it now.

As it is stated in Section 2, Article 13 of the Parenting Code:

Thou shalt never attempt to predict the personality of thy child, for thou doomest thyself to have a child who is exactly the opposite.

Or something along those lines, anyway.

Want a little girl to dress up in tutus and tights? She’ll be a tomboy.  Or better yet, a boy.

Long for a little boy who is a whiz at math?  For sure he’ll be drawn to the arts.

I mean, I guess you could try to pull a fast one on Fate and just envision the opposite of what you want.  Because Fate just might be fooled by reverse psychology. It’s worth a shot, anyway.

But back to Matthew. As quoted in People magazine:

The often shirtless McConaughey made note that the apple won’t fall far from the tree: “Make no doubt about it. My kid will dance. He will be on the beach and he will be taking hikes with a wild bandana on.”

I almost feel bad for him, because now he has practically gauranteed that his child will be a homebody more interested in the latest computer games than hiking in the woods.  The child will roll their eyes when Dad entreats them to spend  another day on the beach practicing the bongo drums.  Sigh, Dad just cannot get with it, the child will think as Dad yet again flexes his six-pack at them to inspire them to work out.  Embarassing!

But hey, nothing says the child can’t wear an awesome bandana whilst playing the latest version  of Super Mario Galaxy.

Buttoned-Up Glinda

A bit much

 

It may seem like I have something against Mrs. Victoria Beckham, aka Posh Spice.  I mean, I find myself writing about her more than I ever thought possible, since she never really appeared on my radar until I began writing for this site.  But for some reason, I cannot stop myself, and while what I write is usually not positive, I am sure that she lives by the classic showbiz mantra, “There is no such thing as bad publicity.”  Well, perhaps if you are Britney Spears that doesn’t apply.   But pretty much everyone else is fair game.

Now, I understand that the shirt that David Beckham is wearing is a charity collaboration between Posh and Marc Jacobs that will benefit New York University’s Interdisciplinary Melanoma Cooperative Group.  I think that raising money for a worthy cause is a wonderful thing. And while part of me wishes it will make a lot of money, another part is thinking, I am sick of seeing this woman in various states of undress.

She has three boys, and does she not realize that classmates (especially fellow boy classmates) can tease?  That they can say, “Heh, heh, I’ve seen your mum naked!” and 99.9 times out of 100, that would be a big, fat lie.  But in the case of the junior Beckhams, it would be absolutely true.  Am I the only one who sees something wrong with that?  And more cringe-inducing, it is Dad who is wearing naked mummy out in public.  Well, I take that back. Strangers with naked Mummy on their chests might qualify as worse.

Can I be the only one who thinks that moms like Pam Anderson and Cindy Margolis, who are famous for their abundant and purposely displayed sex appeal, are giving their children a plethora of yucky issues to deal with in their lives?  More than the normal plethora of yucky issues that kids have to deal with?

Or does that fact that Mommy’s sexiness provides them with an enviable lifestyle make up for all that? 

My son may not live in an enormous mansion, or get to jet around the world, or even recieve a quarter of the material goods that those children probably do.  But, he will never have to worry about his friends downloading a video of his mom doing the nasty or buying a magazine with me half-naked and in a compromising position with his half-naked dad. 

I’m thinking he’d see it as a fair trade.

Yeah, so I’m a bit of a prude.  Maybe even a bit old-fashioned.  And yes, judgmental.  Wanna make something of it?  I’ll be glad to meet you out back to “discuss” it.  Just make sure you’ve got all your clothes on.

For Safety’s Sake

Read and learn, people. Read and learn.

In the vast spectrum of parenting books available, a handful stand out as classics.

Safe Baby Handling Tips is one of them.

How to Nurse Safely

Seriously, seriously. You do not want to get that wrong!

Includes the wonderful “responsibility spinner,” sure to see a great deal of use at three in the morning. See also: Safe Baby Pregnancy Tips! I can’t wait for the Safe Teenager Handling Tips edition to come out. What would you use to handle a teenager safely? Tongs? Forklift? The Jaws of Life? Pentagram?

Safe Pregnancy Tips!

Don’t ask questions!

toothpaste for dinner

toothpastefordinner.com

Thank goodness. I thought I was the only one who said stuff like this.

Who Knew the Shopping Gene was Recessive?

Kid in Shopping Cart

When my husband and I first began dating, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that he actually liked going shopping.   The man may not know how to fix a car, but he can spend hours at an outlet mall, and I’m not sure that I would trade. And hands off ladies, he’s mine!

So when I had my son, I wasn’t worried.  I mean, I figured there was no way the shopping gene could be recessive.  It was dominant, dammit, and I was going to be able to cart my little guy around from store to store with no problem.

Up until recently, the Munchkin had me fooled.  He would go willingly with me just about anywhere. I don’t know if it was simply the enjoyment of getting out of the house, or the novelty of being in a brightly lit building with lots and lots of stuff.

Well, the novelty wore off. Fast.

Now, I am stuck with having to resort to the lowest form of behavior modification in the motherhood handbook.

 You know, bribery.   

It has become a game of chicken, which I have begun losing at an alarming rate.  I try to start out modestly, proposing the barest of incentives first.  But the boy, he is bright. He senses my level of desperation and with a cold calculation that belies his five years on earth, makes his demands.

This small child could make a seasoned trial lawyer break out into a cold sweat.   He could force a flea market seller to run away from his stall, weeping in frustration.  His Grandma? Never even had a chance.

So if you see me at Target sometime and notice my son lounging in the cart, simultaneously playing his video game, contentedly sipping on some refreshing fruit punch and munching popcorn, look away.  Just look away and know that I am a mother who has caved to get that laundry detergent. 

But judge ye not harshly. There but for the grace of God go you.

And to my future daughter-in-law, I sincerely apologize.  We can cross our fingers and hope that it only skips one generation.

He Bravely Ran Away*

Classic!

We are big on books here at the Glinda household, and we try to read with our son every chance we can get.

About seven months ago, the Munchkin was in an extremely all-encompassing pirate phase.  Everything had to be pirate, from his toys, to his movies, to his clothes. 

In an effort to tie into this, my husband went to the library and got an adapted version of “Treasure Island.” I didn’t know this until I saw him walking towards the Munchkin’s room at bedtime with the book in his hand.

“Don’t you think he’s a little young for that book?” I asked him.

“Aw, no way! It’s a classic! You can never go wrong with a classic!” was the reply.

I tried to dissuade him from starting the book, because even though it’s been a while since I last came into literary contact with the Black Spot, I felt that the overall tone of the book was too mature.  Even an adapted version.  But he insisted, and into the room he went to begin one of the best pirate books ever written, to be sure.

A couple of nights later, my husband and I were talking and he brought up the book.

“You were right” he said.  “I think the book just kind of went over his head a little.”  My husband leaned toward me, “And there was this part where one of the pirates was killed, and I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t want to come right out and say it, it just seemed a little too much for a four year old to handle.”

“So what did you do?” I asked.  “Did you tell him that the pirate went  to sleep for a really long time or something?”

“No.” he responded.  “Worse. I had to make it up on the spot.”

“Well what else could you have said?”

“I told him the pirate ran away and was never seen again.”

Ahhh, don’t they say that parenthood is fraught with many teaching moments?

Well, my husband took his opportunity. He taught the Munchkin that apparently, being a coward is better than being dead.

*10 worthless points for the first person to guess the movie in which this line was uttered.  Er, sung, really.

Return Policy: adoption gone wrong

Jade PoeterayOne has a limited tolerance, one does, for spoiled Hollywood stars who insist on collecting their own United Nations of Benetton and then changing the children’s names, particularly when the child is old enough to come when she’s called.

One has, however, no tolerance whatsoever for fools who adopt children, then send them back after seven years, once the parents have their own biological children. What is this, re-gifting?

He’s a professional diplomat? This doesn’t sound very diplomatic to me! He should go to back to school for a social work degree. From the Guardian:

A Dutch couple living in Hong Kong yesterday found themselves at the centre of an international controversy after they gave up their daughter for adoption seven years after they adopted her themselves.

Raymond Poeteray, 55, who has worked as a Dutch diplomat for more than 20 years, and his wife, Meta, adopted Jade, an ethnic Korean girl, when she was four months old…

A spokesman for the South Korean consulate in Hong Kong said the couple had found it difficult to raise the little girl because of “culture shock”.

“[The Poeterays] now have their own children,” the spokesman said. “They decided it was difficult to raise [Jade] because of cultural shock. They said she’s not willing to eat their food. That’s one of the reasons. It’s a strange reason. She was raised from a very early age. It’s a very uncommon case. It’s a difficult situation for us to understand.”

Why, yes, it would be. Given that she’s been with the couple since she was four months old, it’s difficult to understand why she or they or, indeed, anyone at all would be undergoing culture shock at this late date. As for fussy eaters, if they think it’s a problem confined to Korean adoptees, they’ve got a rude awakening ahead, no?

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