What I've Learned!

     In honor of my oldest daughter, turning 21 today! 

     I'd like to share what I've learned thus far from being a parent!  Originally posted this on 9/11/2015, when my darlin was 11.

     Now, as I've told relatively new parents; you're kids are kids for about 10 years... then... when their bodies begin to change in many different ways... they'll remind you of your teen years... and they will be more like roomies(roommates), than your children.

     When I was a teen, my mom told me, my hormones would even out, in around my mid 20's; and I would not view anything as dramatically terrible, as I did when I was a teen.  

     I remember rolling my eyes to her, whenever she mentioned that point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

     Then, I moved to Chicago, in '91, after I graduated from WVU.

      I worked at a Futon Store, for a couple of years and made a couple of friends there.  

     Also, when I sold a futon to a woman, who'd just graduated and moved from Boston; and she lived around the corner from my studio apartment; we became friends!  We were roommates for a few years.  

     Then once, while in our first apartment; I'd gone out with a nice young man, named Pete; he took me out to dinner and we had a fun evening!  When he dropped me off, we kissed for the first time; and he said he'd call me, and we'd go out again!  I thought then we'd be dating for a good bit. 

     Then a couple of weeks later, my roomie asked if I was going to go out again with that hot guy; and she asked, 'What is his name?'

     So, this is what I replied: "Pete, is the name of that guy I went out with.  He said he'd call me, and we'd go out again.  Yet... since it's been 2 or 3 weeks... I guess he either lost it, or tossed my phone...so, no more time with Pete..."

     "Oh my God!  So sorry... "

     And I said, "Who gives a sh*t... there's so many other hot guys in Chicago!"  Then we laughed! 

     Then I called my mom; told her about it; told her "YOU"RE RIGHT!!! I DON'T GIVE A SH*T" and Mom laughed!  

     Then I apologized for all the fits I through as a teen; and she told me, 'Babe, you were easy...' and I replied, "May be because I was an only child," ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

     If you're a parent, I'm sure I have nothing on you.😉   

Return From Cuckoo Land

Got to see The Lego Movie yesterday.

Kids really enjoyed it, as did the parents, it seemed.

Don't want to give away any key plot points, so I'll just say there's a sweet message; albeit with my suspicion that Lego has plans to take over the world, I didn't find it entirely altruistic.

Don't worry, you'll be saying "Everything is awesome," for a long time.  Like it or not.



In case you didn't see it, I'm resharing my post, "Today's Toys, Kids' Dream; Parents' Nightmare".

Hope you enjoy.

Oh Valentine, Valentine

Happy Valentine's Day.

Thought I'd post a quick one today, in anticipation of the next couple of busy days. 

Kids have half day of school, then parties to go to, and finishing out the weekend with a hockey game.

     I like Valentine's Day.  I like it like a kid does.  The bright reds and hot pinks are festive and help to shake the cabin fever.  The flowers remind me that someday spring will spring.  And the candy is well, great!  I'm happily married and got 2 great kids, so I guess these days it's also all about the love, as well.

     Thinking back to my younger days,  I recall 2 Valentines who decided that was the day to end our relationship.  Seriously?  Cheapos.

     To be fair, I can also remember one Valentine's Day where I received a very sweet card and flowers, only for me to call and leave the message, "Thank you for the card and flowers; we need to seriously talk."  He got the message.  Never heard from him again.  They were pretty flowers though.

     From working in the restaurant business, where it's a given that you will work on Valentine's Day; it is sometimes viewed as a sort of amateur night.  This comes from witnessing at least one of, if not all of the following during a Valentine's Day night.  
It's the pressure.

-Dates where it is obvious that it is one of if not the first date.  Both participants resemble deer in headlights, desperate to figure out what the other is hoping/anticipating, all the while making careful,...staggered,... conversation.

-Dates that are eager to impress, by either ordering the most expensive dish/wine, or something they have never tried before.  Oysters and escargot are two first time/last time culinary adventures.

-Dates who have obviously "lost that lovin' feeling."

-Dates who are obviously hungry; but not for food.  All over each other, drawing attention of all others within earshot and view.  There's really no nice and easy way to suggest that they may want to take their activities elsewhere.  That is if you can even get their attention.

-Proposals.  Sometimes sweet.  Sometimes awkward.

-Parties of more than 2, not on dates, not happy about that status, and determined to let everyone else know it.

      Keep in mind, guests that are not happy, even if the food and service are great, generally do not show monetary appreciation to their server.  Thus, amateur night.

      Yes, there are nice couples who are happy to be together as well.  Nice to be one of these, and nice to take care of in a restaurant.  No matter what day of the year.



     Hope you get to celebrate the day no matter how small, how big, with a smile and a laugh and those you love.
 

 Happy Valentine's Day.

The Elves & Me

If you are a follower of Sadie's Gathering, you are probably aware of the happenings of our elf, Natale, and that she recently got married.

     Yesterday a friend of mine posted on Facebook that she did not have an Elf on the Shelf, and was wondering if she was the only "uncool" mom.  She's one of my members here, so I just stated the news of Natale and let it be known that she was not the only one.  Here's my reasoning behind not hosting another elf on the shelf, since ours had plans other than adorning our shelves throughout the holiday season.

     First and foremost, I believe it would be rude.  In a nutshell, nobody likes to play second fiddle.

     Beyond that, I have always found these elves, that come into homes, make messes, spy on their hosts and hostesses, then report back to Santa, a little off putting to say the least.  Consider; would you put up with a grown sibling, coming for a visit, reeking havoc, in your house, (which may include "cavorting", drinking in excess, and making a mess of your baking supplies) during what is already a hectic and stressful time of year- then reporting back to Mom?  Didn't think so.  Especially, if you were the one who paid their travel expenses!

     Aside from what I think is the obvious for not hosting one of these ungrateful imps, there is another reason.  Santa has always come through.  For years.  For generations.  Without these elves; and without this year's special light courtesy of Hallmark.  See, I am 45 years old, and I still believe in Santa.  This would be true, even if I wasn't a mom.

     By the time I was 8 or 9 I was told there was no Santa Claus.  When I consulted my mom on the matter, she asked me to consider: did it really matter how my gifts arrived, so long as they arrived?  Did it matter really if a jolly plump old elf delivered them with the aid of flying reindeer (which incidentally she refused to profess one way or another) or if they came from those who loved me?  I had to be honest.  Not really.  Still, the cast was set.  I BELIEVED.  It had nothing to do with logic, common sense, or scientific fact.  It had everything to do with hope, faith, and the belief that anything is possible.  That is the magic.

     The ability to believe in concepts that we cannot yet see or prove is a skill that often defines a life; between one that believes, and one that doubts.

      Believing in the possibility has created many things that today we take for granted:  the lightbulb; electricity; vaccinations;  the computer.  Believing in a person without reason, can be the very essence of what inspires them to do great things.  To believe in what is beyond our nose and the stores' shelves is the meaning of Christmas.  It's what Francis P. Church wrote about in his famous letter.  "...in all the world there is nothing else real and abiding."

     The Elf on the Shelf, provided a charming family tradition for the creators' family.  So charming that they wanted to pass it on.  I completely understand.  Practically speaking though, The Elves on the Shelves (or Elves on the Shelf- I never know which is correct) didn't enter our realm, until last year, when my daughters saw it for sale at Barnes and Noble.  So.  I know you may be thinking, "Were you under a rock?" to which my reply is "Hey! I had things going on."  Be that as it may they appeared to my daughters as yet another doll to add to their collections.  When we all learned the story, I had some explaining to do.  Let me remind you that my youngest is a future Atticus Finch.    I knew better than to think for a moment, I would ever enjoy that benefit of "be good or your elf will tell Santa."  It was exhausting.  After I finished explaining, I assured them that Santa would always find a way without these special elves.  They stated that they understood but found them to be "sooo adorable! Can we each have one anyways PLEEEAASSSE?"  (Again, let me remind you of my issues with toys)  I then uttered the time honored parental phrase, "We'll see."

     As with a lot of things, I started to do research into these elves.  I came upon Kim Bongiorno's Elf Shaming.  Thank you Kim!  If you click on the link, you'll be directed to the "About" page of the site.  From there you can look around the Elf Shaming site, well worth the time- lots of laughs; or she provides links to a lot of other very funny posts about these, let's face it imps.  After doing the "research",  I concluded that I was not an enthusiastic housekeeper to start with, don't like to share my beer, and make enough of a mess baking; without the help of a 13 inch cherub.  Of course, be sure to read the Grand Dame of all, PIWTPITT's "Overachieving Elf On The Shelf Mommies."  Still great fun to read!

So, at this point, we are still sans elf. 
And on Christmas Eve, I will still look up in the sky to see the tell tale red light that lets me know,
Santa is on his way.

 

Know Your Kids?

      Not sure how long this post will be.  It is something I have always felt strongly about, and today, as a parent, more than ever.
      How well do we know our kids?  Let's start with the light stuff.  Favorite color?  Favorite ice cream?  Favorite food? Favorite movie? Favorite TV show? Favorite sport? Favorite book? Favorite song?  Favorite thing to do rain or shine?  Now, a little heavier: favorite class? favorite teacher? Why? Do they have a best friend? Do you know who it is? Do you know their parents?  Heavier: What frightens them? Real and imaginary, example: being laughed at vs. vampires.  What makes them happy?  Do they have thoughts about what they want to be when they grow up?  Are there any kids that they don't get a long with?  Are they being bullied?  Are they bullying anyone?  How do they wish their life was different? Now for the difficult odd questions that we think are a given, but are they?  How do they regard killing? How do they think of death?  Do they understand that for all we know it is final?  How do they see themselves? When they think of you, what do they think of?  Your spouse? Other siblings, and other family members?  What do they think you expect of them?
You know as well as I this is only the tip of the iceberg.

     We live in a time where our children are exposed to so much.   Some of it obviously good or bad, but then, some doesn't fit into "good or bad";  some things we just don't know, and who knows how our kids are understanding it all?  They could be the victim, or they could also be the assailant.  Yesterday there was a shooting in Santa Monica.   Skylar Neese, a 16 year old from WV,  snuck out with two friends last summer, who later that night stabbed her to death.  One of the murderers feigned concern and tried to help the parents find their daughter, which was understandable to the parents since she had been inseparable with their daughter.  Months after the incident, she confessed to the murder along with another girl.  The reason?  They didn't want to be friends with her anymore.
 
     All of these are someones kids.   I know as parents we, as our parents did, and theirs before, are doing the best we can.   Every now and then though, I think we need to think about our relationships with our kids.   Ask ourselves the hard questions; then ask our kids the same questions.

My daughters are young, but I know, NOW is the time to start. 
 
HAVE LOTS AND LOTS OF DIFFICULT, AWKWARD CONVERSATIONS.  DIG DEEP.

REMEMBER- IT'S NOT ABOUT BEING RIGHT.

LISTEN.

REMEMBER THEY ARE KIDS.  THEY STILL HAVE STRESS.  DON'T PUT MORE ON THEM.

REMIND THEM THAT EVERY ACTION, AND CHOICE COMES WITH A CONSEQUENCE.

FIX YOUR PROBLEMS.  IT'S ONE THING FOR YOUR KIDS TO BE AWARE, IT'S ANOTHER FOR THEM TO BELIEVE IT'S UP TO THEM, TO FIX YOUR MARRIAGE, YOUR FINANCIAL PROBLEMS, ETC.  YOUR KIDS ARE NOT YOUR MOTHER, FATHER, SISTER, BROTHER. YOUR GIRLFRIENDS, BUDDIES  OR YOUR SHRINK.

Is this a lot?   Yup.   But I think we owe it to our children, ourselves, and our communities, to try and keep trying.

We can't fix it all by ourselves, but if we keep trying we can sure make it better.

YOU ARE A PARENT. GO THE DISTANCE.  THERE IS NO CONSOLATION FOR ANYTHING LESS.

This Mouse is Scary

      This piece was initially included in my "Toys" post, but I knew that I had quite a bit to say about a certain mouse, so he got his own post.
 
    No, not Mickey; Chuck E.  For me, it's not surprising that the name Chucky was the name chosen to depict a certain psychotic doll.  While writing this piece, I became curious which came first, Chucky the psychotic doll, or Chucky, the insipid mouse?

     After googling and binging around, I found out that the movie Child's Play came out after the the chain of restaurants started.  I discovered that I was misinformed about the mouse and his conglomerate.   It is not Chucky, it is Chuck E. and Chuck E. Cheese began in 1977 in San Jose, CA.  Child's Play didn't roll out till 1988.  Let me make clear, I did not find anything to support this theory, but I think it's within the realm of possibility that a writer working on Child's Play could have visited a Chuck E. Cheese,  had less than jolly time with the family, and voila! They now have a great name for a psycho play thing.

     I considered posting a commercial photo of the doll beside a commercial photo of the mouse, for the intro of this post with the title, "Which Is Scarier?"; but decided against it because I didn't want either photo in my archives.  They both give me the willies.

     In the spirit of fairness, let me say that I know that Chuck E. Cheese has brought a lot of fun times to a lot of families.  Just not this one.

    We have visited Chuck E. Cheese three times.  A birthday party with lots of kids; one time with a playdate- which actually went okay; and the last time- for my daughters birthday, which ended in tears and is the reason that I won't return and the reason for this post.

     Let me assure you that Chuck E. Cheese did nothing out of the ordinary to seal the deal, so to speak.  Everything was clean, everything was safe.

     Before we left the house we reminded our daughter, "this is a place for fun, and even though you play games, and get tickets, the toys there are for the most part trinkets and don't last more than a few play times.  The games are rigged to a point so you don't win that many tickets, so let's just go and appreciate it for what it is." The birthday gift presentation was to be later on.  So, we went and spent a couple of hours.  Had "lunch", which was largely uneaten, and bought 2 of the Chuck E. Cheese souvenir drink cups, that we can take anywhere in the country and get complimentary refills.   Whoo boy!  Just what we want to do... cart these "mice" along on family vacations, thus, requiring us to seek out Chuck E. Cheese wherever we go.  First Sign.
     All was going swell.  We even actually saw Chuck E.  Thankfully, neither of my daughters were interested in getting a photo with him.  Then on one of the games, my daughter was awarded a lot of tickets.  Over 200.  This was towards the end of the trip, so we proceeded to the awards counter.  While she had won a good deal of tickets, many more than the trinket counter required, she still did not have enough for one of the actual toys on the wall that had caught her eye.  Second sign.  That's when the tears of disappointment and heartache set in.  Or rather, poured out.  What ensued for the next 45 minutes was what we call a Category 5 fit.  Can't remember what genius of a parent we adapted the hurricane rating system from for classifying our girls' fits, but again, thanks.
     My daughters are on the whole, well mannered, big hearted, sources of pride.  This was not one of those times.  This was one of those times that gives meaning to the phrase "being a parent is the toughest job there is."  During my attempts to calm my daughter, and persuade her to choose something that her 250 tickets could afford her, a Chuck E. Cheese staff member added chirpingly, "Or, sweetie, you could get something small, and save the rest for the next time you come."  She then smiled at me and explained in detail befitting a professor to a naive coed, "that is the way that our guests acquire the big ticket items."  Third sign.  I am not a naive coed.  I am a worn out parent.  Next time?!?  I enlightened the perky staff member; there would be no "next time".  We finally escaped with a calmed, although still disappointed birthday girl.  Three hours later, after some "down time", gifts and ice cream and cake, our grateful, big hearted source of pride returned. 

      A friend of mine remembers her trip to Chuck E. Cheese, when her now grown kids were small, where the sight of this mouse brought her kids to frightened tears.  Not to worry, all three recovered and are college graduates.   Although I think her son still doesn't like clowns, or over sized mice.

      Now, it's almost a year later, and Chuck E. Cheese rarely enters our family conversation.  We can even pass it on our regular traveled street without a whole lot of fanfare.  Still with the commercials that run often, that mouse is never far away.

     Apparently there's an application for your phone that can be downloaded.  Oh, I am sorry, it's an "Augmented Reality App", that you download to your phone.  Then on your next visit, (as if) to Chuck E, Cheese, you go around to different special photo spots, point your camera and the cartoon mouse "comes to life" and joins you in the photo.   Then you can send your photos to friends and family (lucky them), or enter them for a chance to be on Chuck E. Cheese's website, Facebook, or Twitter page!  If you would like a serious laugh go to their site, and watch the "how to video".  Serious SNL worthy material.

     "Make some memories!" "Make them last forever!"  I've got kids, thus, lots of great memories that don't include a mouse.  Heck, in most cases the absence of a mouse usually ensures a great memory.
As for making them last forever, that's not for me to decide.  If I could pick, and was hit with a sudden case of amnesia,  memories with a mouse would be among the first to go.

     Last, but not least, the commercial where Chuck E. says he did all this for me.  In this commercial Chuck E. lets us in on "a little secret"; that when he built the first Chuck E. Cheese he did it for the moms and dads, so they'd have a place where they could go and relax.
To that bit of phony baloney altruism, I end this post with my response-

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah..... good one.

Today's Toys: Kids' Dream; Parents' Nightmare

Maybe it's me.  Could be.  I may have reached the point that I have the patience of a boiling teakettle and no tolerance for anything less than complete serenity.

If that be the case, allow me to share with you my thoughts on today's toys.

      As you know, I have two daughters, ages 8 and 5.  Between them they have acquired over the years a boat load of goodies.  Since they are both girls and are both now past the age of swallowing small parts, seems to me they have exponentially added to their goods within a very short period of time.  We do our part as parents to make sure they are sufficiently spoiled, plus we have enough doting family and friends that can push it over the edge for any gift giving occasion.

So where should I start?

Howzabout them dolls?

      I remember back in the 70's and 80's there was always some controversy about Barbie.  If real, Barbie would be 6 ft tall, 100 lbs, and have the following measurements: 39 bust-21waist-33 hips; a size 4.  Furthermore it's been pointed out, if she was real and was blessed/cursed with this body, she would be unable to menstruate, as well as have a slew of other medical problems.
     Well, now it's 2013, and the dolls my girls are begging for have figures that would give Ol' Barb a complex.  If you have sons and haven't been down this aisle at the toy store, allow me to enlighten you:
     There's Bratz: 11 inch dolls -same as Barbie, although these dolls look like they've had some work done, and might I add, not by one of LA's finest.  Then there's Bratzillas; cousins to the Bratz characters, who also happen to be witches.  Oddly enough, aside from the funky hair color, the Bratzillas don't look nearly as scary to me as their "Muggle" "cousins".
     The Bratzillas were MGA's competition for the other line of scary beauty dolls, Mattel's Monster High dolls.  Each character, is the teenager of a classic horror figure, such as Dracula, the Wolfman, Mummy, etc.  As if being a parent of a teen wasn't scary enough.   Seems to me that since Mattel is also Barbie's source, Monster High's characters might be Barbie's cousins.  Although distant- maybe twice or three times removed.
     If you have ever seen the movie Love Actually, there's a scene where Emma Thompson's character asks her husband, played by Alan Rickman, which doll should go to one of their daughter's friends;
"the one that looks like a transvestite or the one that looks like a dominatrix?"   This is not an exaggeration of what's on the market today.
      Along with the ones that I have mentioned there are Winx dolls, LaDeeDa dolls, and Novi dolls, which are actually aliens, so I don't even know whether or not to include them.  That was my daughter's argument, when I told her she already had enough dolls.  "She's not the same Mommmm; She's an alien."  For the record, I stood firm.   Let me state, that not all of the aforementioned dolls have invaded my home.  There are also many other fashion dolls out there.  Good ol' Barbie is still going strong.  I shouldn't even refer to her as good ol' because not only has Barbie received several makeovers, she also has stints as a princess, mermaid, and a rock star.  For each of these Barbies, you can bet there's a television show or movie to help promote each of the characters and the full line of accessories entailed in the stories.  Clothes, cars, guitars, furniture, pets, pets' clothes, etc. etc.  Most of the dolls that I mentioned, also have their own shows or movies, to help promote the dolls.  Or do the dolls help promote the shows and movies?  It's a "catch 22" that would pickle the brain of Mr. Heller.  To date, I don't believe the LaDeeDa or the Novi dolls have any tv shows.  Yet.
     I am in my 40's, but still retain enough of my mind to remember the days with my Barbie collection.   I had around 6.   All of them could wear any of the Barbie fashions, which had snaps for the closures, that were easy enough for little fingers to maneuver.  Plus they all withstood several "head exchanges" - that for whatever reason was popular among my friends and me.
     Today's dolls work like this.  You buy the doll.  You buy extra outfits.  Two weeks later Clawdeen has visited Paris or gone to a beach party and thus, another doll appears on the shelf at the toy store, super store, book store, or super market.  As well as the required clothing and accessories for such an adventure.  The companies are cranking these out so fast, that I think the dolls aren't as durable as the dolls of yesteryear.  When my daughter tried to change clothes on Aisha the Winx doll that graces the intro of this article, it was necessary to bend the doll's arm to a degree that it obviously was not designed to withstand- the arm broke.  I mended it, but not as good as new, and it still falls off regularly.
      The thumbs or hands on the dolls are another source of contention.  Perhaps it was the toy designer's plan to give the dolls "pretty hands", but those pinkies and the thumbs get caught every time you change an outfit, and often rips the fine gossamer fabric.  Neither my 8 year old, and especially not my 5 year old, has the manual dexterity to dress her dolls.  I think by the time they do, they will have reached an age where their interest in fashion dolls has waned.  Unfortunately, I have had no luck finding customer service for any of these issues.

     Now, onto Lego bricks.

     Lego bricks have been around since the mid 1900's, are from Denmark and the name was derived from a Danish phrase that translates as "play well".  These building bricks have always been a big hit, I remember my set.  They too along with the fashion dolls of today have evolved into a production that boggles the mind.  Well, at least mine.  I have no complaints on how they are made; just now they are made in even more sizes than were available when I was a kid.  Smaller- so that I need my reading glasses to decipher WHAT!?  -after I get through restraining my blue streak I let rip when I step on what remains one HARD  "little darling Lego."  If you are a first time or an expectant parent, you need not wait till your little bundle of joy is past the age of 3 for fear of swallowing a Lego.  Lego created Duplo blocks that are big enough so you can get your toddler on the road to what will  be an obsession that will last their whole childhood.
     When they do reach the age of big kid's Lego bricks, prepare yourself.  To state that Lego has "branched out"- is putting it mildly.  Whatever show or movie has tickled your fancy in the last 30 years, good chance there's a corresponding Lego figure.  That obviously did not do enough for business, because they have created in the last few years fantasy action series such as Ninjago and Chima.  Complete with television shows of their own, as well as many desirable individually purchasable sets.  My daughter bought through her school's book club order, The Ninjago Character Encyclopedia, that has pictures of each of the characters and their backstory.  It also serves, as I feared, a catalog since it also features photos of all the Ninjago sets as they are available.   Fortunately, I have no problem with saying the word "no"; and sticking to it.
      Also, for all you kids out there who are closer to my age, are you aware that Lego offers a Business Consultant Service?  Lego Serious Play offers their bricks to companies to help with creative thinking and team building exercises.  Now what do you reckon Lego charges these companies for Serious Play?  Methinks it might be a tad more cost effective if the companies were just to tell their employees to go home and play with their kids' Lego sets.  If a coworker is sans kid- there's your team building effort- share yours.  Any ol' way, doesn't it just make you feel warm and fuzzy knowing Lego's got their metaphorical bricks in everything.

      Newest on the block so to speak, pun intended, is Nanoblock.  Created in Japan it claims to be 1/8 the size of a standard building brick allowing for greater detail in the completed project.  Oh, goody!  They use soy based ink so they're good for the environment too.  Nothing to gripe about these so far.  May be because we don't have any of these.  Yet.  Momma still likes to build as well, and given that my daughters are often reluctant to let me build whatever, I may at some point get my own Nanoblocks.

     While we are on the subject of small, it's amazing to me, and annoying, how unbelievably small some toys are.  Squinkies are these amazingly small cute play things that come with their own clear sphere, reminiscent of the toy machines at the supermarket.  Don't worry, the toy machines at the supermarket are still there.  Apparently they weren't small enough.  Next came Zinkies, clones of Squinkies, just less than half the size.  Still have their own sphere.  Yea; good luck finding the missing Squinkie, (not to mention a lost Zinkie) to all who succumb.  
     Polly Pocket and her offspring are another to hit the cute and tiny market.  Think Barbie, just one fifth the size.  Again, parents good luck finding Polly Pockets Cinderella's glass slipper.

    Lastly, the electronics.  I am putting this off for as long as I can for a couple of reasons.  I find it interesting that there is a commercial out there that shows 5 or 6 kids inside comparing the days of before and after Wi-Fi.  Meanwhile we hear regularly that one of the nation's top health concerns is childhood obesity.  My girls are both active, so this is not really a concern.  However, both of them spend up to 1 hour a day on the family computer, and I feel that's enough.  I know in the not far future, a lot of school work will be done via computer as well.   My oldest will turn 9 soon, so their may be another electronic gadget in the near future.  Once you cross over, probably there's no turning back, thus my putting it off.

     Hope you enjoyed reading.  Feel free to let me know your thoughts on today's toys
 That wraps it up, for now.

The Prude Is Back...

In honor of Mother's Day I am posting a few posts that "come from Mom".  Sadie's Gathering is not a Mom's Blog.  However, I am a mom, and as I had a great mom, as well as wonderful grandmothers, I would like to write these posts in honor of the timeless common sense that moms often try to instill.

Therefore, The Prude is Back...

Mom used to remind me with a knowing smile, "You did not invent sin."

She would repeat this phrase, every time I stayed out past curfew;

or snuck out after bedtime- (I usually got busted sneaking back in);

or just anytime I got caught doing something that was less than the up and up.

     Or if she walked into a room just after a friend and I had concluded our plot for weekend, seeing us  clam up and eyeing each other with a "caught" smirk.

Yea, we didn't invent sin; but I think we cranked it up a notch from time to time.

     One area, where it was quite evident that I was not the pioneer; was swearing.  From an early age, I was privy to every GD scatological term my former Marine father, and college educated mother could muster.  Until, that is,  I,  brought home the goods.  I was the one who broke the unsaid (therefore unknown) rule: "Thou shalt not use the F Word".

     This is one of those times I know I cranked up that notch.  While I don't remember the first time I said it around my parents, (which incidentally pretty much coincides with the last time I used it around my parents); I DO remember their reaction.  "THAT WORD IS NOT TO BE USED!"  "HOW COULD YOU?!" I remember Mom stressing that not even Dad used that word.  I also remember setting out to rationalize my using it, in order to accomplish preventing me from getting into any major trouble with my folks, as well as paving the way to ensure that I could use it in the future.  My line of reasoning went like this:

     The F word wasn't that bad; after all it meant an "entirely natural act between two consenting individuals for the purpose of giving and receiving pleasure and the ultimate- creating life." 

Side note: I brought the F word to the game not long after I had received "The Talk." 

     I explained that that was a lot more pleasant than some dirty, disgusting, poop term or taking our Lord's name in vain.  I went on to demonstrate, that to say the F word felt a lot more cathartic than any of the other offenders.  Use GD!-and if you're a Christian, you naturally feel guilty when you say it.  I reasoned if one chose to use the popular poop term when very angry, they were likely to end up spitting on oneself; an involuntary effect that really would defeat the purpose for saying the word in the first place.  So, quite clearly the F word, I reasoned was the epitome of swear words, if not the entire English language.

Bet you're sensing another reason I was an only child.

Sadly, despite my furtive argument, my parents failed to be swayed.

Their argument was this:

      Despite my reasoning and well thought out argument, the F word was just too foul to be uttered.  They noted this opinion was universally felt.  If I did not heed their advice, I was to certain to fall from grace, among my peers, as well as from all society, domestic and global.  I was assured that if I used the word, I would attain notoriety, just the type one generally does not seek.  On a slightly less dramatic note, yet more persuasive to me, Mom concluded that if I used the word like salt, it would to little more than leave a bad "taste" with everyone.  Better to save it and use it like that rare spice that really surprises and packs a punch.

     So, I conceded, realizing the wisdom, of keeping my language mild around the ones who paid my bills.
    
Still, I went through the years "spicing" things up probably more often than naught.

Here are some of my favs:

Gimme a f---in' break  -still muttered regularly at any and all inanimate objects.

The Grand Slam- G-- D--- Mother F----- Son of a Bitch
And my all time fav- that I think is even kinda cute-

                                                                   "F*#% A Duck!

I like it so much I often say "Muck a Duck,"- so I can get the idea across in a multitude of settings.

     You are probably wondering what this little stroll down memory lane has to do with my being a prude.  Easy, I have become my mother.

     As you know, I have stated there won't be much, if any swearing on Sadie's Gathering.
You know that I do enough of it in certain company, and now you even know my favs.  I have also explained that because I often have kids reading over my shoulder as I write, I decided to leave it out.
However, I doubt that anyone's starvin' for their daily dose of the F Word; because it has become ubiquitous!
     Whether I am reading a blog, watching a movie, or walking down a street, any street, or dining at a restaurant; it's "well I know it's f'd up, but I don't know wtf, like how the f it got the f there. And WTF, if they f'in want to f' know what I f'in think..."  
                                                                 What I think?
     People need to go back to school and take English, Brit & American Lit, and linguistics, and expand their vocabulary.  The use of the F Word has become ubiquitous, superfluous and
vexatious.  

     Even if it is the epitome of the English language; there is still something to be said for decorum.

 How's that for a Mom statement?

Ok, It's Official... I am a Prude.

 The title says it all.
     If you haven't figured it out, I spend way too much time on the computer every day.  So, every day I click on this and that and roll my eyes countless times.
     I am not saying I am better or classier, or whatever.  It's just I don't get what the hub bub is about certain things.
     For instance, as a kid, I totally missed the boat when it came to scatological humor.  If you don't know what scatological means, look it up.  That's how much I missed the boat; I don't even want to spend more time than I have to explaining.   As you know, I have kids.  My kids are riding that boat right now to the crest.  I try to focus on the sound of my kids' laughter, rather than the words, and the sounds they are making.  Just as long as it's not brought up during mealtime, I am usually quite tolerant.  However, the fact they are fans of Nick Network does not help matters.  The other day, in between episodes of Spongebob Squarepants, (my girls love, I can't stand, although I do sympathize with Squidward) four teenage kids were singing a song about bodily gas emission (yep, I am that hung up) IN A JAR!  I thought -You've got to be kiddin' me!  I switched the station.
     It's a few days later, and I have not seen it since that time.  Of course my girls have to watch Spongebob.  So, I searched the web a bit to see if it was real, or just one of those pesky parent imaginings.  Turns out, I wasn't the only parent displeased.  A dad, actually had to leave work early to pick up his son from school, who had been sent home due to repeatedly talking about scatological subjects.  Oh, and here's what else I found.  Some genius is trying to sell an emission in a jar on Etsy-  FOR $54!!!  Never fear, if you feel that price is a little steep, you can buy a book for $2.99 TELLING WHY  YOU SHOULD STORE YOUR EMISSIONS IN A JAR!  Sorry, I am too much of a prude to include links to the aforementioned items, but heck, if you found Sadie's, I trust you can find these.  Just don't tell me and I won't judge.  Ahem.
     As far as other areas that I am prudish on, I already divulged my opinion on swearing, and you know that I am a big fan-  I just don't want to read it often, and that's why you won't see it here.
Well, while I was researching parents' reactions to the Nick video, I kept reading complaints from parents with very colorful language included.  My 8 yr old reads and reads well.  My 5 yr old can sound out quite a few words with help, and let's face it the best of the best expletives are only four letters.  I shared with my daughters that WTF actually stands for: what- the- fandango?!  Although I miss living in Southern California, I do not miss explaining the the billboards that were plentiful in our area.  Trust me, there's nothing like being caught in gridlock on an LA freeway, (usually the 405) trying to explain to a budding reader, why there's a billboard for "LIVE NUDE GIRLS".  Better yet, why that one has the words Spearmint Rhino - but there's no picture of any animal or the mint that Mommy has in her herb box at home; just one of a lady.  With not much on I might add.  Hmmm... now imagine no movement for 30+ minutes = screaming toddler and 4 yr old, and you've got a recipe for ... oh well I am sure you get the picture.
      I am even a prude about other blogs using all the fun words I leave out.  One of my fav's, recently did a promo post for a book that I know will be a best seller, because it shares some very funny moms', very funny perspectives.  Yet the title of the book has one of those words in it, and the promo post states "You're gonna want this (another one of those words)".  Really?  I am sure some of you will read this and think "oh grow up."  To which I reply, not likely.
     Even as a teen, I remember discussing expletives with my mom.  I was stating the benefits of using the "F-word" and why it is was better than "s--t" which I considered gross; and much better than "GD" because that is taking the Lord's name in vain- with the added bonus of sending something to Hell.  Mom didn't see it my way, so it was decided that everyone (including Dad) would not use any of those words.  Thus, the beginning of my love of foreign language.
     Speaking of language, there's a game my girls play where they just make up words.  Usually used to describe each other.   The sillier the better.  They get pretty colorful, but not in the way I referred to earlier.  Just very creative, and very funny.
     Or the rhyming game: prude, bued, blude, rude, dude, fude, stude wude, sude, tude, lude, zude...
Because when you're a kid, lots of things are funny.  Long live childhood!
   

Attention Yale & Harvard Law- Do You Ever Consider 5 Year Olds?

     I have been meaning to post earlier this week, but as you know life happens.  The youngest member of our family is Perry Mason in the making and by day's end I just want to say "Throw the book at me."
     I never wanted a lawyer in the family.  No offense to my friends, that are.  It's a noble profession, and today there are lots of avenues that one can pursue if they are intelligent, tenacious and savvy enough to obtain a law degree.
     But I grew up with a mom and dad who although they loved each other, were like oil and water.  Arguing and debating each and every little thing.  I was an only child and by the time I turned 10, I was exhausted from just being around it.  I used to say "Look! The sky is a lovely shade of blue today.  Can the two of you at least agree on that?!"  Drove me crazy.  In my teen years I even begged them to get divorced.  I was told "just because we don't agree on every little thing, doesn't mean we need to get a divorce."  Don't agree on every little thing?  More like any little thing.  Years went by, and I lightened up.  At my wedding, I remember looking at my parents, thinking I was glad they were still together.  They were together for better or worse, and all the craziness that falls between.  They are both gone now.  After looking through all the cards and letters they gave one another through the years I know there was a lot of love there.  I miss them both, so much.
     Still, I was looking for a little less drama for my life.  I found that with my husband, and I knew it when we met.  It was just easy, fun, and he "got" me.  First time I brought him home, one Christmas, my mom asked my cousin what she thought of him.  She laughingly replied, "He's just like Sus, but in male form."  No, we don't agree on some things, but we both respect each other's intelligence to know that our opinions are what make us us and heck, we're not gonna change.
      We have been blessed with two wonderful daughters.  The eldest, is 8 and is sensitive, emotional, and rational; well, as rational as 8 year olds go.
      Our 5 year old, is another story.  I knew it from the start.  When she was born, and got upset, because she was wet or hungry; she would scream, cry and turn bright red-orange all over, head to toe.  Scared the hell out of me!  I thought she was gonna burst into flames; you know, like Jack-Jack in The Incredibles.
     When she got a little older and was getting into stuff,  after a few "no's" I swatted her bottom.  She stopped, proceeded to rub where I had swatted, looked at her sister with a questioning look, then looked up at me and laughed.  Oh no! 
      Next came the placating and the plotting.  Asking for a treat one hour before dinner- I reply, "after dinner"; she says sweetly "Okay Mommy."  I return to the kitchen a few minutes later, a few minutes too late to find she had managed to push over a bar stool, climb up and stand on the counter to obtain her prize, and is already in the process of trying to destroy the evidence.  To my credit, that only happened once.
      Nowadays though, she doesn't hide her efforts, she just wheels and deals, and negotiates.  "I won't do this, unless you give me that."  "Do you want a spanking?"  Her question, not mine.  Last night she asked me, after I had said no to something, (I don't ever remember) "Do you want me to throw another fit?"  This was my reply: "Is this a trick question?- Listen toots, I make the rules, you follow.  If you don't want to follow the rules, then there'll be consequences- such as no Spongebob for a few days."  Her reply? "Mommy, do you remember when I cracked the egg on the fridge and it ran down and made a mess?"  I didn't, so I said "No babe, I don't."  "I know, cause you weren't here."  How's that for misdirection? 
     Yes, I admire her tenacity.  Her creativity.  All the drama though, aie aie aie.  Once again, I am exhausted.  And I'm a lot older than 10 now.
      Somewhere my mom and dad are having a great laugh.  Not to mention, very proud, as am I.