My seven-year-old daughter, Emily, started to grow her hair out about a year ago to donate to Locks of Love . But, once she saw "nice tough guy" George Parros of the Anaheim Ducks hockey team getting annual hair cut for Childhood Leukemia Foundation's (CLF) Hugs -U- Wear Program she changed her mind and wants to get it chopped off with him-- "with a Duck."
Sometimes, when we've had a particularly brutal hair brushing session we go to CLF's website and look at THIS and we're good until the next shower.
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Attention Mom Bloggers:
This picture is of Em and I in Palm Springs. You have to get creative when you're a Mom Blogger who doesn't post pictures of her kids. We agreed this one was just obscured enough to share.
I think the hardest lessons to teach our kids are the ones we haven't quite learned ourselves...
Wide-eyed and excited, a little girl walks down the aisle at Toys "R" Us in Irvine. She stops at the Bratz section and picks up one of the heavily made up dolls who's sporting a mid-drift and thigh-high stockings.
"Stop right there!" I shout, startling her. "Put that down, NOW!" I scream as I lunge toward her and knock the trampy doll out of her little hand. Then I turn her quickly to the sweet My Littlest Pet Shop display. Whew! Future teen disaster averted!
Well, okay not really. But that's what I felt like doing last week. Walking down the girl's aisles at toy stores can sometimes feels a little like MTV's Spring Break. The level of inappropriate attire and activities gets jacked-up year after year. It makes a mom wonder what kind of little girls these toy producers are targeting.
I'm not one to blame the media or toy makers entirely for the trend--as parents, I think it's our responsibility to moderate what our kids consume and not make others responsible--but geesh, taken as a whole, I feel the sexualization of little girls is getting out of hand. It seems every year the boundaries get pushed a little further, dragging our daughters down the road to adulthood at a quicker rate than they are equipped to handle.
It's the growing floozy-fueled trend that bothers me, not the desire for a little girl to act girlie. I let my six-year-old daughter play with Barbies. I let her do her nails sometimes. I let her have a little bit of a heel on her fancy black shoes. Bottom line: I let her be a little girl. I liked being a little girl. Being a little girl is a lot of fun. But I draw the line at Barbie's Hot Tub Party Bus. I think the concept behind it is too exceedingly tart-like to support.
Fun in the sun is one thing--which I enjoyed endlessly with my Malibu Barbie Country Camper--but throwing my daughter on a "Party Bus" with all of her half-dressed friends to soak in a hot tub with Ken and his buddies is another.
This subject of guarding our daughters from vile merchandise is near and dear to my heart. You might remember the subtle mandate (paradox intended) I wrote calling for the boycott of Juicy Couture because of their despicable products made for young girls--remember their "Trust Fund Generation University" line of purses? This holiday season Juicy has teamed up with Barbie to make supermodel Barbies for just $125 a doll. Which would probably be these girls going rate on "the street." ***wink***wink***
Juicy also offers "A Week in the Life of a Juicy Drama Queen" underwear for little girls. So, for only $58, your young daughter can have clever "Juicy" puns splashed across her bottom for...um, I would hope no one to see. And isn't Juicy considerate to promote the trait we ALL encourage in our daughters--DRAMA!
The sales gal at Nordstrom in the Spectrum assured me I would "be surprised" at how many they sell. She's right. I'm always surprised when parents throw their money away on inane products for their kids. (You can read my Juicy Couture Rant here. I go into detailed about why all their products should be tossed into an angry sea.)
I know I must sound like the ultimate mommy buzz kill, and maybe I am a bit. But I didn't sign up for this whole parenting thing just to make and impress friends and I certainly didn't do it for the pay or the hours. I want my daughter (and my son) to have a total blast as kids, but sometimes it takes a purposeful effort on the parents' part to help them define what a "total blast" should look like.
Now let's see...I pointed out the evil trend of trampy toys marketed to our daughters....I showed you pictures of disgraceful Bratz dolls...I reiterated my disdain for all things Juicy...I encouraged you to dump unseemly products into an angry sea...I think my work here is done.
Have a nice holiday...and don't forget to try buying handmade.
Here are some other things I've written there that are bossy, snarky, and sometimes, usually by accident, downright true!
I lie to my kids all the time. I know I'm not supposed to lie. I teach my kids not to lie. But it's completely impossible to navigate the murky, treacherous waters of parenting without inserting a doozie of a fib every once in a while.
I'm not talking about the standard "untruths" we tell to kindle our kids' imagination and make their little lives fun--like about a certain white-bearded man or gnomes living in our houses.
I'm not including the little white lies we tell to ease the pain of a lost pet or calm the anxiety of a worried little one on the way to the doctor. Every parent stretches the truth when it comes to how long five minutes is or what the consequences are if you cross your eyes for too long--these are all just "givens" in the big parenting book. (Which isn't issued, but written hastily by parents as they go...)
I'm talking about flat-out whoppers that are told in the hopes of getting our kids to do what we want them to do. Lies that take death defying-leaps away from reality but ultimately, we believe, will benefit our children. In the end, these types of lies will become family folklore that our kids will tell their kids one day. "I remember grandma told me our cat got married and moved away, but really they gave him away because he kept scratching the furniture." They will laugh with their children, while shooting us an amused look.
These are the lies that keep on giving. The ones you have to elaborate and modify to keep them going. The kind of lies you have to whisper ahead of time to friends or family--dragging them into your web of deception.
My biggest and longest running lie revolved around the culinary delight we all know as the grilled cheese sandwich. My favorite food in the world! But my daughter didn't like them--refused to eat them! I wanted to make them for myself her because of their nutritional value (always on whole wheat), to add some variety to her meals, and because they are DOWNRIGHT yummy!
She wouldn't have anything to do with them.
One day, after refusing a grilled cheese, I asked her if she wanted me to make her a very special sandwich--A Camp Sandwich. Usually The Camp Sandwich can only be eaten while outdoors, next to an open fire. But I told her I could, just this once, make her a Camp Sandwich to try. Oh, she really wanted one, so I broke the rules "just this once" and made her the perfect Camp Sandwich.
As she ate it I told her tale after bogus tale about how I used to eat them all the time when I was a little girl. How I used to sit around campsites with my brothers eating Camp Sandwiches, petting the bears, and listening to the wood fairies sing as they worked. I really laid it on thick.
"This is the best sandwich I've ever had!" she announced as she devoured the sandwich. Mission accomplished...until...she ordered a Camp Sandwich at Ruby's, and at Red Robin and at.... I think I have told every 20-year-old, uninterested server in Orange County the story of The Camp Sandwich.
The Camp Sandwich had a very long run as far as parental lies go. It lasted until my daughter was about six years old when her Aunt Jana finally (narked on me) told her the truth while spending the day at her house. She hopped in the car and proudly proclaimed, "I know a Camp Sandwich is really just a grilled cheese!"
Oh, well. At least she has a good story for her kids now and I have a daughter who enjoys a good grilled cheese as much as I do.
I wrote this story about my daughter and I for my blog at The Orange County Register.
Thanks for visiting me there.
(Picture by Studio Schatz)
Today on my blog at The Mom Blog at the Orange County Register I wrote this about my new passion:
Roller skating, it's the new laundry!
Please head over there and leave a comment if you like it. But, if you don't like it you can still check out Jenny's blog there.
Thanks to Marcy for the picture.
I'm not very accustom to writing about serious issues. Yes, okay, I rant about topics with serious subtext. I go to proper functions and tell you about them. But, I feel much more comfortable in the land of piffle and snarky observation than the world of prudence and purposeful conversation.
It's me. My writer's insecurity comes out and I feel less than qualified to talk about more important, weighty issues--like losing a child to cancer. But, today I cooled my frivolous heels and wrote about a meaningful upcoming event.
On the Mom Blog at the Orange County Register I posted a special edition on my blog, "Mommy's Mind is not a Toy," about my friend, Lynn. You can click the link below to go over and see why she would let me post this picture of her. (Though I still think she looks pretty.)
"Going orange for HallowEden."
I just posted "Hey kids, time to breakout the French Maid costume" at The Mom Blog over at The OC Register. If you haven't read it and been stumped by the behavior of one OC Dad, you can do so HERE.
I also link to my "Juicy Couture Rant" which still holds just as true and still gets me just as fired-up as it did when I wrote it last year. If you JUST LOVE Juicy, don't read it, it will ruin the joy of buying anything from them ever again. (I hope.)
Today over on my blog at the Orange County Register you can read my semi-rant about over-parenting, called "I'm afraid of wimps and you should be, too."
While being forced to do her least favorite thing in the world--homework--Em started to tug, press, and fuss on her ear. "It hurts so bad..."
Now, being skeptical by nature and sometimes just for the enjoyment of it, I hardly believed her. Her self- prescribed remedy to "just go lie down and watch TV for a while," deepened my doubt.
But, given she has had a cold (and this experience) I sent Ben off with Larry and headed for the closest Urgent Care.
While we were checking in I asked how she felt. "Oh, a little tired but..." she started. "No Em, how's your ear?" "Fine," she said before she could stop herself.
**insert THAT mom look**
As she squirmed around on the chair in the room the nurse asked, "What ear, honey?" She looked at her, blinked, and slowly pointed at her right ear, "I think it's this one."
**insert THAT mom look with head shake added for effect**
When the nurse left the room I pounced, "Were you telling me the truth when you said your ear hurt SO bad or were you just trying to get out of homework?"
Shocked at the very idea, she said, "No, it really hurt, it just feels better now."
"Well, the doctor can tell in a second if you have an infection and if you don't we're going to have a long talk (which is the threat you give when you have no idea what the punishment would be)," I explained, "We'll just wait and see what she says."
On cue, the doctor came in and did her "doctor-y" things and then she raised the otoscope to her ear. Em had her eyes pensively on me.
"Oh, yeah. It is really bad in there. She has an infection," the doctor said, settling it.
With the instrument still stuck deep in her ear, Em smiled the biggest smile right at me.
I started to laugh, hard.
She started to laugh, harder.
The doctor didn't know what to make of us as she wrote out the prescription.
In the car Em said, "I'm so glad I have an ear infection."
"Me too, babe," I said, as I squeezed her little, bare knee.
&&&& Drawing by adorable Miss Avocado on awesome Etsy. &&&
McDonald's has really great happy meal toys right now.
Right there--that I'm telling you that--is a problem. I know it's a problem.
I'm not sure why this got me excited, but, sadly, it did.
When I pulled up to order for my kids and saw the toy was Wizard of Oz (girl toy) and Batman (boy toy) I was perceivably jazzed.
Sure, my kids got all twitchy and chatty in the back seat when they spied the big ad that graced the top of the ordering menu that announced their prize, but I had a real sense of...well...happiness, at the very idea.
I really haven't a clue why.
The inexplicable joy just got worse and more disturbing when my daughter opened her happy meal to find she had been given Dorothy! Dorothy! I could have cried from the pure triumph I felt that MY daughter got the star character.
We both just looked at it all giddy with delight as she twirled it around. Then she pulled out the clincher..."Mom...(dramatic pause)... I got Toto, too!"
I would have hugged her if we hadn't both been firmly strapped in our seats. She placed the basket on Dorothy's stiff, outstretched arm and held it up high for us all to admire.
Another mysterious emotion of motherhood revealed right there in the parking lot of McDonald's.
Then I remembered, I was so swept-up by the luck of the moment that I forgot about Ben.
Poor Ben.
He pulled out his toy: The Green Goblin. A villain! Not even a sidekick, let alone the star.
He was robbed. Robbed I say!
(I hope she doesn't come alive at night and run around the house. She looks a disheveled and overwrought. Badly in need of a little powder pat-down.)
Alright, keep in mind his humor taste is just developing, but this did hit on some of his favorite things: Monkey Mail.
Yep, I'm on deadline, can you tell? I'll be back to regular writing tonight!
I love the website Etsy. It's a place where people from all around the world can buy and sell homemade items--like artwork, purses, jewelry, clothes--online, without the overhead of a store or the hassle of lugging everything to an outdoor fair. It's free to anyone who wants to join, and any purchase made is protected by the all-powerful "Pay Pal."
One might say, I'm a little addicted to Etsy. ("One" would be my husband.)
I buy things from Etsy that I would have bought from Pottery Barn, Z Gallery or even Target (and the prices are better.) I like the idea of supporting small, independent artist--many of them are moms who work from home.
I check in daily to see what's new. Recently, I decorated my seven-year-old daughter's room with four pictures from one of her favorite artists; The Black Apple. She likes her artwork because it usually has animals in it and the girls aren't "all smiley," which apparently she doesn't like.
I love exposing my daughter to a variety of artists and their crafts. Our "visits" to Etsy have inspired her to make her own personal journal, decoupage dress forms (at The ARTbar in Santa Ana), design jewelry and draw portraits of her friends and pets. For Christmas last year I ordered this personalized portrait of all her pets that hangs in her room. (See it here. )
Go check out Etsy with your kids and if you have your own Etsy shop, please leave a comment so we all can swoon at your talent. (Especially if you are an OC Mom. I would love to check out your shop.)
Some of my recent purchases:
A handmade case for my iPhone from: JPat.
A charm necklace for my friend's birthday at So Charmed. (Don't look Vicki...seriously, DON'T!)
A poster for my son's room at Matt Art (Artist, Matte Stephen's shop.)
These mouse pads from Mirror Girl are made with artwork from a variety of Etsy artists.
(See...addicted!)
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I wrote this for The Mom Blog at ocregister.com. You can go (here) to comment if you like...
I like to make CD's as gifts for my family and friends. I usually make a copy of this iMix I made Sleep Tight: Lullabies...(Click here to go to iTunes) and give it with a baby gift to the new parents.
This iMIx is packed with songs from Rickie Lee Jones to Death Cab for Cutie. I got tired of listening to "kid" music when I would lay down with my kids to put them to sleep. (I know, I shouldn't...yatta yatta) So I have listened to this a few hundred times.
To spruce up the custom CD's I turn to those smarites at Chronicle Books who sell these CD Packaging Kits (this one is my favorite).
If you remember, I also made this iMix: "It's my life and my radio: Introducing our kids to the 80's."
The other day we were at a party and LoRee came in and said "Ladies, watch this." And "this" was this...
Irvine, ca. An Irvine mom said she was thankful to survive the first month of summer but fears the last month might be the one that will lead to widespread tantrums and whining. "It's not so much the actual fighting that bothers me, it's the listening to the fighting," said Suzanne Broughton, who has two children, ages 7 and 4.
Statistics show that even if 95 percent of the time kids "get along" and cohabitate together harmoniously, it is the remaining 5 percent that is the real killer. "I don't know if you can actually die from over-tattling, but it's a risk I'm not willing to take with my kids," said Broughton. "I have sent them to their room until July 25th." Broughton believes at that time, the return of her children's grandparents from vacation will slow the progression of boredom-induced squealing.
Her fears aren't unfounded. A recent study shows that left unchecked and uncorrected it has been documented that a child can "tattle" for three to five days non-stop without any contact with the child they are tattling on. Further, the dreaded question "Guess what?" can be uttered up to 6,134 times before doing any actual damage to the tattletale, but the long-term effects of tattling on both parties and the parents who have to listen to them are still largely unknown.
"I just don't know if she is going to last through the summer," said one of Broughton's neighbors who didn't want to be identified. "I heard her yesterday shout something like 'I have had just about as much of this as I can take!'" Which the very informed and sharp-eared neighbor said was "mommy code" for "I'm just about to farm you out as an Arbonne consultant for the rest of the summer."
One member of Broughton's Wednesday playgroup, Karen Albright, said she was surprised she had gotten to that point so soon in the summer, but was "jazzed" to hear she might be getting free travel-sized moisturizers with carrying case. "I 'm the one who first signed Suzanne up for Arbonne, so with each additional person she brings in, I get free product."
When asked how she fared this last month, Albright said she was "fantastic." She gave most of the credit to her carved-in-stone summer schedule. She has been dropping her children, ages 6 and 8, off to repeatedly see "Wall-E" every day, 10 a.m. to 7 p.m., ever since the movie came out four weeks ago. "They just love that silly robot...or whatever he is. I haven't actually seen it myself."
Though the summer months can be taxing on stay-at-home moms, their neighbors and theater employees, it 's healthy to keep in mind that it will quickly be over and the children will soon return to their classrooms. But as Candy Orsby, the Director of The Orange County School Board, reminds parents in a memo sent out last week, they have to wait until the actual first day of school to do so," no early July drop-offs will be accepted...Please remember, if the school's doors are locked and the lights are summer isn't over yet. "
I made this video when I attended the OC Moms' launch party last Sunday at the Discovery Science Center. I write for the The Mom Blog at ocregister.com and thought a video of the event was in order...
You can go to my blog "Mommy's Mind is Not a Toy" by clicking here.
Had a date last night with a charming 4 year old. We went to The Old Spaghetti Factory in Newport Beach. We sat in the trolley, drank Italian sodas, and ate three loaves of bread! He was such a gentleman, he pushed all the crosswalk buttons for me on our way there and he even let me finish his vegetables!
After dinner we went for a walk on the beach. He found a shiny penny on the boardwalk and threw it in the ocean and made a wish with it.
"What did you wish for?" I asked him later in the car.
"I hope you're my mommy forever!" he said as he batted his enormous eyelashes.
Oh, and "I hope I get to have a Transformer party for my birthday (next March)," he added.
What a smooth operator...
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