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Archive for December, 2010

Why I Refuse to Buy My Son a Kindle

Friday, December 31st, 2010
By Glinda

Or any other type of e-reader, for that matter.

Because I am a curmudgeon? Quite possibly.

Because I am a Luddite? Or technophobe? Hardly.

I think it is because there is just something so wonderful and tangible about holding a new book in your hands.  The feel of the cover, the crispness of the pages, the actual turning of the pages and the particular noise that makes.

Reading is such an immediate and personal act, and  not teaching my son about the intimacy of a reading a book seems wrong.

Let’s face it, by the time he is in high school (or sooner) the bulk of reading will probably be done on e-readers.  I get the pros of an e-reader, I really do.  You can store many more books than you could carry in a backpack or luggage.  Not to mention not having to store a bunch of books in your home that take up space.  Although personally, I love having books in my home. Plus, it’s probably harder to lose an e-reader than a book, although I have no first-hand knowledge of this.  And, I’m going to guess that an e-reader is better for the environment overall. Insert large sigh here.

So I’m just trying to hold out as long as I can against the technological tide that is surely turning against me.  I’m sure that eventually books will go the way of newspapers, which is to say waning readership of an actual newspaper, but tons of online readers.

Pretty soon I’ll be babbling about how telephones used to have circular dials and long cords attached to them, as well as how we used to have to get up to turn the television station.

Oh right, I already do that.

Fine, curmudgeon it is.

Games People Play

Thursday, December 30th, 2010
By Glinda

So my family loves playing games. Or more correctly, we like competing against each other for bragging rights. We have played everything, from Pictionary to Ping Pong to bocce. We play tough, we play hard, we have absolutely no mercy. Too bad if you are having an off day or your back hurts. We will seize every advantage we can, and if you are gonna complain, don’t play.

I’m not sure where our ruthlessness comes from, but I can tell you that I am one heck of a Connect Four player due to the fact my late grandfather would never “let” anyone win, not even a 6 year old. If anyone beat him (which was rarely) it was an honest win. I will admit to proudly continuing that tradition, and I have never let the Munchkin win at anything just to soothe his ego.

We are probably at our worst when playing board/party games. Perhaps it is the proximity to our competitors, being all crammed in around a table. For whatever reason, our Italian heritage comes on full display with waving hand gestures, open-palm slaps to the forehead, and deafening yells of both triumph and defeat. My sister and I are practically unbeatable as Pictionary partners, she once guessed that I drew a dryer when I only drew a box with a circle on top. My dad almost always wins at Trivial Pursuit. My husband and I have the winning record as Scattergories partners. It gets really ugly when we play Uno. I don’t even want to talk about it.  The flashbacks!

A good time is had by all when my family bonds together over games, and that is exactly what we are doing. You really get to know a person when you play a game with them. Whether you discover a short fuse, or get an intimate earful of their highest decibel capability, it is something to remember. Of course, the most fun is winning, then you get to rub it in. At least until the next time.

Oh, By the Way…

Wednesday, December 29th, 2010
By Glinda


Reddit via

Life with a Young Child

Wednesday, December 29th, 2010
By Glinda

Can kind of suck sometimes.

Yeah, there’s the adorable factor with their big eyes and chubby cheeks and cute babbling.

But sometimes the cute can only take you so far.

Then you’ve got to also contend with the thinking that running out into the street is a good idea, that everything on the floor should be shoved as quickly as possible into one’s mouth while running the opposite direction of the parent, the extreme sport that has become diapering, and complete refusal to sleep on one’s own in one’s own crib.

You know your life is pretty sad when your 8 year old will be attending a New Year’s party and spending the night at his buddy’s house while at midnight, you will be resentfully staring at your one year old who is determined to take up as many square feet as possible on your mattress.

Pity party of one, your table is now ready.

Son of a Diddly!

Tuesday, December 28th, 2010
By Glinda


A couple weeks before winter break, the Munchkin came home upset because he had gotten into trouble at school.

When pressed for details, he lied about the incident, claiming it was because he had called another child’s drawing “stupid.”

While not a fantastic thing to do, I wondered why he was so emotional about it, when the truth finally came out. Well, it came out after being badgered about it for the remainder of the day by moi, as my Spidey-senses told me all was not as it seemed.

Turns out, a fellow classmate had accused him of saying the word hell in a non-opposite-of-heaven way.

He swore up and down that he didn’t say it at all, and claimed to not even know what it meant.

I’m on the fence as to whether he did say it or not, but I’m pretty sure he knows what it means.

Did the Munchkin get punished?

Well he did, but not for the cussing part.  He got punished for not being upfront about what had happened.

Because yelling at him for cussing? Pot, meet kettle.

You see, my father, who was a very fix-it type of guy, would curse up a storm every time he worked on a project.  So if he had to fix a leaky sink, my young self would stand in the kitchen, see a waist and a pair of legs sticking out from the cabinet doors, and hear a stream of curses that would make any sailor blush. 

Did I cuss in elementary school? You betcha.  And I was a very straight-laced honor student at a Catholic school.

I was just smart enough not to cuss around anybody that would tell on me.

I truly try not to curse in front of my children, and I would say I am 99.8% successful.  But one of his best buddies is an 11 year old from a home that has a lot of salty language being thrown about, not to mention my in-laws not watching their language around him, or even my own dad on occasion.  Oh, and my own husband isn’t all that great at keeping his language perfectly clean either.

Yes, I know all about the people who say that cussing means you are ignorant and haven’t the language skills to truly express your outrage, so cursing is just a way of flaunting your lack of vocabulary.

Actually, I think the people who go around saying made-up expressions are worse.  You can go around all day and spout nonsensical expressions, but when you stub your toe against the bedpost, “fiddlesticks” just will not do.

Monday Teeny Poll

Monday, December 27th, 2010
By Glinda

It seems the majority of you are into wrapping with just paper, with 50% taking this approach.  19% go all Martha Stewart-y on us, and 7% do the gift bag thing.  2% go eco-friendly and 2% don’t really wrap at all. And 19% say it depends on who they are giving the gift to.  I am a complete convert to the gift bag for adult gifts.  Every year Costco (yes, I am not ashamed to admit I love Costco) has a box with a couple dozen or so gift bags that go well beyond the simple.  They usually have clever designs (i.e. designed to look like a purse) beaded handles, marabou trim, and always some sort of 3-D element.  I adore them.  But for kids, it’s gotta be wrapping paper.  Although this year my one year old had more fun tossing the tissue paper out of the bags than she did ripping the paper.  That will change next year.

Today, I want to know how you are doing.

They’re on the Way!

Friday, December 24th, 2010
By Glinda

And even if you don’t believe in Santa, I wish you a peaceful, joyful time with your loved ones this holiday.

Toy Complex

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010
By Glinda

Now this is one of the funniest things I’ve read in a while…

10. Etch-a-sketch. Your child will spend hours working on a deeply meaningful artistic creation, only to have it wiped away at the slightest jostling. A psychologically devastating reminder of the ubiquity of loss and the ephemeral nature of existence. Also, no building sand castles on the beach.

And even though I’m no psychological expert, I’m going to add that Operation has got to be a major inducer of anxiety, amirite?


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