I won’t lie, the only way my family gets through long car rides is by watching videos. 

My son is prone to carsickness (something he apparently will never grow out of, as he has had this since he was a baby) and my daughter?  Well, she just hates being confined in her carseat and the only way to stop her from screaming the entire time is to have some Wiggles playing.  I honestly tried to resist playing the movies for her, but after multiple car trips with non-stop crying and a couple of crying-induced vomiting sessions, I copped out.  We don’t play it on trips shorter than twenty minutes, but after that, all bets are off.

We briefly considered installing a DVD system on the roof of our minivan, but decided against it because with the seven year age difference between my kids, it is pretty much a gurantee that they will never want to watch the same movie.

We also thought about installing some of those headrest monitors, but the drawback was  you could only play one DVD at a time, and they were mucho expensive.

Enter the RCA Twin Mobile DVD players.

You can actually play two different DVD’s since you can load each monitor with its own movie, but there is still a single power source.  The whole thing has worked out perfectly, especially since my daughter is still in her rear-facing carseat, and will be until she is at least two.  Her monitor is strapped to the top of her seat, and my son’s monitor is strapped to the back of the front passenger seat.  My son wears his headphones, and we are all happy.  I would have preferred larger screens, as these are only 7 inches, but they don’t make a system like this with 9 inch screens. 

And the whole set was less than one hundred and fifty, which I consider to be a HUGE bargain.

Having a child is like playing the ultimate lottery.  You have absolutely no idea what is going to happen, but you know that the odds of it being completely in your favor aren’t all that great.

When I first found out I was giving birth to a son, I despaired for a short time.  I knew nothing about little boys, and I wondered what in the world I was going to have in common with this kid. 

Of course, how stupid was that?  I blame pregnancy hormones. 

I am always surprised by the small ways my son reminds me of myself, and our love of reading is something that we share.

I’d placed a certain book in his bookcase a very long time ago, simply because I wanted him to read it at some point, and yet I didn’t want to put it somewhere I would forget when we moved a little over a year ago.  Then I sort of forgot about it.

Until I opened his door one night and found himreading this.  He had never mentioned to me that he had started reading it, and I (excited that he was finally reading it, but hoping he wouldn’t hate it) casually asked him if he liked the book.

“Oh yes, Mom!” he answered.  “I think this is so funny, I’ve already read it a couple of times now. I love Miss Wormwood the best!”

That’s my boy.

You might have noticed a distinct lack of Teeny Poll last week, and that was because last Sunday night found me frantically trying to fight a virus that my dear husband allowed into our computer.   Thanks hon!  Three hours of my life I can never get back.

I went totally personal on the last poll, and most of you (44%) suggested semi-formal, no matching for our upcoming family photo.  I’m thinking you guys are right.  We will have to ponder exactly how we are going to carry it out, but hopefully it will turn out not looking too cluttered.

Today I want to talk about summer camps.  The Munchkin is into science, computers, and robotics and the like.  I found a great-looking robotics camp done through a local university.  I was really excited about it, until I clicked through to find the price tag.  For six hours a day, they wanted me to fork over $800!  I about fell off my chair.  That doesn’t even include lunch!  I’ve looked at quite a few others, and it seems that if you want to do something even semi-interesting, it is going to cost you big bucks. However, maybe I’m being unreasonable?

To paraphrase class factotum, no, there really wasn’t a contest.  The man who I will always call LL Cool J no matter what he may call himself, crushed David Arquette like a small, inconsequential twig.  I think possibly one person voted for Mr. Arquette, but I really do hope that he and Courteney can work it out.

Today I’ve got another musician, albeit one who is completely different in every way, from build to beats.  He’s the frontman for the indie-ish band The Killers, and my is he purty.

VERSUS

Dear Daughter,

I bought you an outfit that I thought would look cute.

It was a three piece Calvin Klein, with jeans, a shirt, and a soft, furry vest.

I squealed upon seeing the furry vest, as it seems I have a weakness for children wearing fuzzy things.  Your grandmother had bought you a different outfit with a similar vest, and people could not get enough of you in it.

So the other night when we went to the baseball game, I thought the weather was perfect for your CK ensemble, as you’d never worn it before.  It was the perfect combination of semi-warm but not too warm, and I lovingly tucked your jeans into your adorable furry little boots that matched your vest perfectly.

I thought nothing of your outfit until I saw you walking with your dad about twenty feet away from me.  That distance gave me an entirely new perspective.

Your jeans had detailing on the back pockets I hadn’t noticed before, which made me uncomfortable. And they definitely qualified as “skinny” jeans. The vest looked chic, but a little too grownup for an 18 month old.  And the worst was your boots, which looked more like Uggs than anything else.  Good lord, they weren’t supposed to look like Uggs! How did I not see the resemblance? 

And Calvin Klein? What the hell was I thinking?  They are the ones who famously stood between a teen Brooke Shields and er, nothing. 

I solemnly promise on my Complete Works of Shakespeare never to dress you like a college sorority girl again.

Until maybe you are one, but that’s at least a good eighteen years away.

Love,

Mom

Given my admiration for Japanese filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki’s talents, I find it rather odd to be writing this post.  I have loved many of his previous films, and was looking forward to seeing Ponyo.  I didn’t see it at the theater because I had a newborn at the time it came out, but I patiently waited for it on cable.

Finally it popped up and I eagerly scheduled it to tape on the DVR.  Even though I had taped it so that the Munchkin and I could watch it together, for some reason he had little interest in it, and I decided to keep watching it without him.

Unfortunately, I should have followed his lead.

Visually, the movie was completely stunning.  I was in awe of Miyazaki’s depiction of the ocean and its denizens, real and fantasy alike.

But then came a little something called the plot.

You see, it is basically a love story about two five year olds.

Sure, you can couch it in whatever other terms you like, but that’s basically what it boils down to.  If these two aforementioned kindergarteners can prove that they love each other completely, well then the Earth won’t be destroyed.

So the destiny of the planet hinges on two people who normally can barely decide what they want for dinner, much less choose a lifemate.

Thanks.

I have to admit that the whole thing creeped me out in a BIG way.  Did I mention it’s a love story featuring two five year olds? I suppose you could argue that I’m making it more about love than friendship, but that is the way I took it. Hearing their tiny, immature voices professing their undying love for one another is something I wish to never hear again. Ditto Noah Cyrus’ voice, which I found to be completely grating.   

I’ll stick with Howl’s Moving Castle, thank you very much.

Quoted from Erma Bombeck, one of my all-time favorite authors:

No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed. I have known mothers who remake the bed after their children do it because there is wrinkle in the spread or the blanket is on crooked. This is sick.

Judge me if you must, but Erma and I are on the same page.

As a child, my mother forced me to make my bed every morning.  I never saw the point, unless the covers were so out of order that you couldn’t pull them over yourself completely.  Then, I certainly saw the wisdom of straightening them out.

I confess to not being a stickler about the Munchkin making his own bed.  In fact, I don’t really remember the last time he did it.

It doesn’t help that he has an all-in-one bed, the kind with the mattress on top like a bunkbed, and drawers and a desk underneath.  I certainly can’t make it up the ladder to inspect it, or let’s just say I don’t want to make it up the ladder to inspect it, shall we.  It’s difficult to make a bed that you must sit on in order to fix the blankets, so I give him a pass.

But to be honest, even if he didn’t have a bed like that, I probably wouldn’t force him to do it all the time, only when I was feeling the need to be anal about something fairly innocuous.

Which happens more often than you would think, but still not a priority.

My track record with my own bed is pretty poor, especially since our daughter is sleeping in it as well.  Since she also naps there, it means I would have to make it twice a day and mama just does not have the time for that.

But parenting is all about picking your battles, and I’d rather save mine for the thousands of Legos on the floor.

That whoosh you are hearing?  That is Robert Downey Jr., ascending bodily up into the Celebrity Dad Hall of Fame.  Have fun, Robert!

So today marks the exciting part of CDF for me when I have to hunt down not one, but two celebrity dads I haven’t yet included.  I’m thinking soon, though, that I will have exhausted the list and will have to start somewhere close to the beginning, just with different dad combinations.  Or, maybe a series of Hall of Fame battles?  Who knows, it will probably depend on how much tea I’ve had to drink that day.

Our first contender is someone I’ve always considered to be way sex-ay, and it is truly a travesty that I have not featured him yet.  I was going to feature him with clothes, and then I thought, why would I deprive you ladies of the pleasure of this man without a shirt?  Only a vindictive harridan would do that, and I’m only vindictive every other Friday. Today is your lucky day!

The second contestant is one current recovering alcoholic with a more-famous estranged wife.

VERSUS