We are recovering here from what I like to call “VomitFest 2011” wherein my daughter threw up three times in less than two hours just before bedtime. It equaled three outfit changes, three baths, two bedsheet changes, two changes of outfit and showers for mommy, and three floor cleanings.  Fun times, my friends, fun times.  Actually, this is the only time I appreciate the marble floors that make up most of the flooring in the house.  Much easier to clean than a carpet.

Anyhoo, enough about the travails of my poor toddler’s stomach. 

Last week we had what I thought was a very interesting poll, and 60% of you felt that people who refuse to have their children vaccinated should pay higher health insurance premiums.  27% of you said that if we had universal healthcare, we wouldn’t be talking about raising health insurance premiums at all, and only 12% thought that vaccine-refusers should not have to pay higher premiums.  To be honest, I was a little shocked at the final outcome.  Not that I disagree, but I certainly thought more people would be against it.

Today via the Washington Post comes the story of poor Zoe, who was kicked out of a Montessori school at the tender age of 3 because she had too many potty accidents at school.

This post is late.  Why? Because when I went to write it last night, there was a tie between Jamie Oliver and Owen Wilson.  And I thought, crap.  There has never been a tie in the history of CDF, if you can believe that.  So I sat there in indecision, and then made the decision that I would just go to bed and hope that someone would vote overnight or in the morning and break it.  Thank you 37th voter!  You put Owen Wilson in the winner’s circle!

Today I’ve got another brand-new papa as challenger (look for another one of those next week!).  He first caught my eye in the Lord of the Rings movies, and somehow, even though he’s handsome, he’s never looked as good to me since.  But I’m sure that’s just my own special brand of quirk.

Let’s see what you think.

VERSUS

My one year old daughter received many, many toys on Christmas. 

Some would say too many.

I wouldn’t necessarily say that, but I do think she got way too many toys that talk to her.

Oh for the good old days when your toys didn’t say phrases at you all the time!  When you could stare at your stuffed dog and you could pretend it said anything you wanted, not one of twenty canned, pre-recorded phrases.

The one I hate the most is a dog made by Fisher Price that will talk and sing when you press it’s ears/paws/tummy.  The songs are fine, I never have anything against a good rendition of the ABC song.

But I think I hate it because the voice is one that is dripping with saccharine.  The actor who performed for the recordings deliberately pitched her voice much too high, and almost emotes too much, if you know what I mean. 

And personally, I feel it is just wrong for inanimate objects to ask to “Be my friend.”  Am I alone on this?

By some particular quirk of fate, the dog we have is apparently possessed, as it will say the phrases while it is lying on the floor and no one has touched it in over ten minutes. I will be sitting there on the couch, and suddenly a disembodied voice will rise up from the floor.  “I loooove you,” the dog will coo in an annoying singsong way.

That dog had better watch it’s back, because if it keeps spontaneously spouting creepy phrases, I just might find myself spontaneously throwing it in the trash.

The shirt.

I’m cool with everything about that outfit except the shirt.  Fake hairpieces? Go for it.  Leopard-print leggings? Fine!  A jacket with dangling chains? Sometimes you can never have too many chains!

As a ten year old, I applaud her willingness to take sartorial risks. If you can’t dress any way you want when you are ten, then what good is it to be a kid? I have so far refrained from commenting on any of her outfits because, well, she’s ten years old. And at that time, she hadn’t purposefully put herself in the spotlight other than being the daughter of Will Smith and Jada Pinkett-Smith, so I didn’t feel comfortable saying anything about her, as simply being the daughter of someone famous doesn’t make you a public figure.

But now with her burgeoning music career placing her firmly in a self-chosen career path of wanting to be famous, I feel I must say something about that shirt.

I would never allow my son to wear a shirt that said “Girls Need Training” and I think it is no less demeaning when referencing boys. I just notice that it’s often just fine to say derogatory things about boys. Nobody bats an eyelash. But turn the situation around and everyone would be in an uproar.

The fact that a bajillion tween girls are going to see the video associated with this shirt saddens me.

And Jada, I’m disappointed in you. As the mother of a son as well as a daughter, I thought you would know better.

I have never watched her “reality” show, but I do know that she is a professional stylist (despite some questionable personal ensembles I’ve seen her in) to some big-name stars.

And now I know that I want her to go away.

You see, Rachel Zoe is pregnant, and whoopee for her. I mean that, truly, good for her.

However, her recent suggestions on how to dress to “pregnant per-fect-ion” are obviously from someone who has yet to experience their third trimester.

Responding to a reader-submitted question for style ideas while pregnant, Zoe replies:

As opposed to former generations, we are fortunate to live in a fashion-forward age that accommodates to style for every body, size and situation—pregnancy included. For example, both 1. 7 For All Mankind and 2. J Brand make maternity jeans (praise the denim gods!), which are a flawless starting point for a prego-chic look.

Other free form bottoms that are perfect for pregnancy are 3. leggings and 4. maxi skirts or full length dresses. Take your pick of the three styles and then you’re ready to tackle the waist up! For tops, I recommend 5. long tunics, 6. flowy blouses and 7. ponchos to flatter your mom-to-be figure.

Shifting focus to footwear—my fave!—you can stay stylish yet at ease in a pair of 8. wedges or 9. flats. Create any combination from each category—bottoms, tops and shoes—and you will be pregnant per-fec-tion! xoRZ

P.S. One last thing! Don’t forget to complete your modern maternity look by accessorizing with a big tote bag and a pair of do-not-disturb oversized sunnies to hide fatigue!

A poncho? Did I read that correctly? Has Ms. Zoe not read the Manolo’s “No Poncho Pledge?”  Not only does she recommend a friggin’ poncho, it just so happens to be a four hundred dollar poncho!  So you too can pay a fortune to look like a large, misshapen lump!  I mean, even more than you already do!

And the wedges she wants you to wear? Five inches on those suckers, at a cost of two hundred dollars.  So that everyone can admire your great taste in shoes as you fall on your ass and land with your feet in the air due to your center of gravity being completely off.

Then she wants us to wear sunglasses to “hide fatigue.” What? Does she not know that pregnant women should wear their fatigue proudly?  That the very fatigue she wants to so desperately hide is exactly what compels your guilty-feeling husband to give you back and foot massages every day?  Don’t hide the fatigue ladies, flaunt it!

The rest of her advice is very generic, and I can’t believe she gets paid to tell pregnant women they should wear tunics, flowy blouses, and maxi-dresses.  Like this is some sort of earth-shattering new fashion advice.

And listen, anyone who calls sunglasses “sunnies” is someone with whom I will never be friends.

Last week I asked if a 17 year old was too young to be Miss America, and 72% of you think just that.  I agree.  The funny thing is, I don’t really have any “facts” to back that up with, it’s just my gut feeling.  I will be honest, I was fairly selfish and self-centered at 17, and I can’t imagine having to do all of the things a Miss America is supposed to do at that age.  However, maybe I was just an immature brat.  Not completely out of the realm of possibility, I’m afraid.

Today, I wanted to point you to a fascinating discussion going on over at BoingBoing and find out what your views are on the topic, which come from an article written by pediatrician Rahul K. Parikh on CNN.

Jamie Oliver wins again, and I have to admit, it was unexpected on my part.  He sauteed Vin Diesel, winning with 56% of the vote. Is the way to a girl’s heart though her stomach? 

I’ve decided to pit quirky good looks against quirky good looks, with the latest competitor entering the daddy-ring only a week or so ago. Congrats! 

VERSUS

I have to start out by saying we are all about team sports here at Casa Glinda.  I played team sports for many, many years including softball, basketball and volleyball.  Later in my career I focused on volleyball, and loved it so much I wound up eventually coaching at the college level.  My husband also participated in multiple team sports, including football and wrestling.  We practically lived and breathed tenets such as “a team is only as good as its weakest player” and “it’s all about teamwork.”  We go around the house high-fiving each other every time one of us makes an impressive display of parenting skills.  OK, I’m joking on that one.  Sort of.

Which is why I don’t understand why the “go team” DNA apparently did not get passed down to the Munchkin.

Like the good suburban parents we are, we enrolled him in team sports from the time he was in preschool.  Bitty soccer. Tee ball.  Basketball.

He hated them all, especially practices.  It’s not due to a lack of coordination or ability, he just didn’t understand what the big deal was.

He did not see the point at all in running laps.  Why did he have to run in some arbitrary circle just because someone told him to?

Why should he have to sit in the outfield when someone else got to have all the fun at first base?

This is the same child who screeched at his fellow soccer teammate that he had “messed up”and allowed the other team to score and brought the boy to tears.

I’m still apologizing for that one.

Fitting the definition of insanity, I kept trying to push him into team sports, thinking it would be good for him. 

One has to learn how to be a team player eventually, right? Right? 

Hmmm, I’m wondering if Bill Gates or Steve Jobs ever played team sports.  

What it boiled down to was that he was not  happy and thus we were not  happy since badgering my child to attend practice over his vocal protests is not the manner in which I wish to spend my afternoons.

But I do think that exposure to sports is important, if just from an exercise and discipline point of view.

So, tennis, anyone?