This Page

has been moved to new address

Fairly Odd Mother

Sorry for inconvenience...

Redirection provided by Blogger to WordPress Migration Service
body { background:#fff url("") 50% 0; margin:0; padding:0 10px; text-align:center; font:x-small Verdana,Arial,Sans-serif; color:#333; font-size/* */:/**/small; font-size: /**/small; } /* Page Structure ----------------------------------------------- */ @media all { #content { background:url("") no-repeat 250px 50px; width:700px; margin:0 auto; padding:50px 0; text-align:left; } #main { width:450px; float:right; padding:50px 0 20px; font-size:85%; } #main2 { background:url("") -100px -100px; padding:20px 10px 15px; } #sidebar { width:200px; float:left; font-size:85%; padding-bottom:20px; } #sidebar2 { background:url("") 150px -50px; padding:5px 10px 15px; width:200px; width/* */:/**/180px; width: /**/180px; } } @media handheld { #content { width:90%; } #main { width:100%; float:none; } #sidebar { width:100%; float:none; } #sidebar2 { width:100%; } } html>body #main, html>body #sidebar { /* We only give this fade from white to nothing to browsers that can handle 24-bit transparent PNGs */ background/* */:/**/url("") repeat-x left bottom; } /* Title & Description ----------------------------------------------- */ @media all { #blog-title { margin:0 0 .5em; font:250%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; color:#353; } #blog-title a { color:#353; text-decoration:none; } #description { margin:0 0 1.75em; color:#996; } #blog-mobile-title { display:none; } #description-mobile { display:none; } } @media handheld { #blog-title { display:none; } #description { display:none; } #blog-mobile-title { display:block; margin:0 0 .5em; font:250%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; color:#353; } #blog-mobile-title a { color:#353; text-decoration:none; } #description-mobile { display:block; margin:0 0 1.75em; color:#996; } } /* Links ----------------------------------------------- */ a:link { color:#488; } a:visited { color:#885; } a:hover { color:#000; } a img { border-width:0; } /* Posts ----------------------------------------------- */ .date-header { margin:0 0 .75em; padding-bottom:.35em; border-bottom:1px dotted #9b9; font:95%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:.3em; color:#663; } .post { margin:0 0 2.5em; line-height:1.6em; } .post-title { margin:.25em 0; font:bold 130%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; color:#333; } .post-title a, .post-title strong { background:url("") no-repeat 0 .25em; display:block; color:#333; text-decoration:none; padding:0 0 1px 45px; } .post-title a:hover { color:#000; } .post p { margin:0 0 .75em; } { margin:0; text-align:right; } em { display:block; float:left; text-align:left; font-style:normal; color:#996; } a.comment-link { /* IE5.0/Win doesn't apply padding to inline elements, so we hide these two declarations from it */ background/* */:/**/url("") no-repeat 0 .25em; padding-left:15px; } html>body a.comment-link { /* Respecified, for IE5/Mac's benefit */ background:url("") no-repeat 0 .25em; padding-left:15px; } .post img { margin:0 0 5px 0; padding:4px; border:1px solid #cca; } /* Comments ----------------------------------------------- */ #comments { margin:0; } #comments h4 { margin:0 0 10px; border-top:1px dotted #9b9; padding-top:.5em; font:bold 110%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; color:#333; } #comments-block { line-height:1.6em; } .comment-poster { background:url("") no-repeat 2px .35em; margin:.5em 0 0; padding:0 0 0 20px; font-weight:bold; } .comment-body { margin:0; padding:0 0 0 20px; } .comment-body p { margin:0 0 .5em; } .comment-timestamp { margin:0 0 .5em; padding:0 0 .75em 20px; color:#996; } .comment-timestamp a:link { color:#996; } .deleted-comment { font-style:italic; color:gray; } .paging-control-container { float: right; margin: 0px 6px 0px 0px; font-size: 80%; } .unneeded-paging-control { visibility: hidden; } /* More Sidebar Content ----------------------------------------------- */ .sidebar-title { margin:2em 0 .75em; padding-bottom:.35em; border-bottom:1px dotted #9b9; font:95%/1.4em Georgia,Serif; text-transform:uppercase; letter-spacing:.3em; color:#663; } #sidebar p { margin:0 0 .75em; line-height:1.6em; } #sidebar ul { margin:.5em 0 1em; padding:0 0px; list-style:none; line-height:1.5em; } #sidebar ul li { background:url("") no-repeat 3px .45em; margin:0; padding:0 0 5px 15px; } #sidebar p { margin:0 0 .6em; } /* Profile ----------------------------------------------- */ .profile-datablock { margin:0 0 1em; } .profile-img { display:inline; } .profile-img img { float:left; margin:0 8px 5px 0; border:4px solid #cc9; } .profile-data { margin:0; line-height:1.5em; } .profile-data strong { display:block; } .profile-textblock { clear:left; } /* Footer ----------------------------------------------- */ #footer { clear:both; padding:15px 0 0; } #footer hr { display:none; } #footer p { margin:0; } /* Feeds ----------------------------------------------- */ #blogfeeds { } #postfeeds { padding-left: 20px }

Fairly Odd Mother

Frantically waving my magic wand to make wishes come true.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Sprouting Off

Have you watched, or let your kids watch, PBS Sprout, the "24-hour channel for preschoolers and families"? We have, and the 24-hour part of it has always bothered me a bit. Do preschoolers need a 24-hour channel? Are 3-year-olds often up at 1am, watching TV? (I am a little scared to know the answer).

Now, I am one of those parents who let's her kids watch channels like this with minimal supervision. I look at "TV Time" as the time I get things done around the house---laundry, dinner, cleaning---so, yes, TV is absolutely, positively a babysitter. The good news is that I am strict about the channels they watch and how much screen time is allowed each day.

Now, though, I'm a bit disturbed about a channel on our "safe" list. While walking through the family room the other day, I heard a commercial airing on Sprout. "Hmmmmm", I thought, "I didn't think Sprout accepted commercials".

The next thing I noticed stopped me in my tracks. The commercial was an ad for New Orleans. New Orleans? For preschoolers?

I worked in advertising for many years, so I know that, in cable, advertisers often buy a demographic group versus specific programs or channels. So, let's say this advertiser wanted to reach Women 25-44; Sprout may rank very high since many women say they watch the channel, even if they really mean that their kids are parked in front of it.

But, still, shouldn't Sprout have some sort of system that insures that the messages they run are appropriate for a 3 year old? (and, let's be clear: I'm sure there are loads of fun things for families to do in New Orleans, but this was NOT a "family" ad, per se).

Today, I happened to see a commercial for 800-Creditcarddebt. Yes, my kids are so happy to know that if mommy and daddy run up their credit cards to the point of near bankruptcy, there is a company that will help to straighten it out. Never mind that I now need to explain what bankruptcy is.

Thanks Sprout! Although you are one of my kids' favorites, I think we'll now stick with videos.


Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Too Much Time on My Hands. . .

If you miss me, you'll find me here.


Underachievers U.

A friend sent this email and link yesterday:

11 year old homeschooler goes to college...

My (smart-ass) email back to her?

Yes, college----where within 2 weeks, I'd lost my virginity, did my first beer funnel and smoked pot. That is EXACTLY what I'd want for my 11 year old! ; )

I'll stick with slow and steady, thankyouverymuch.


I've been thinking a lot about our goals for homeschooling, especially with the start of the school year just ahead of us. I vacillate between excitement and terror that my daughter's first-grade education is in my hands.

My goal right now is to just make it through the year with her interest in learning, experiencing and discovering intact. Oh, and it'd be great to still like each other by year's end.

My goals do not involve Belly earning a Ph.D by 16.

She's growing up way too fast as it is.

Labels: ,

Monday, August 27, 2007

Lost In Translation

From Fairly Odd Father this weekend:

"Why is it when I don't remember something, it's because I'm not listening to you; but, when you don't remember something, it's because you were distracted?"


Friday, August 24, 2007


It's been one of those weeks: nonstop movement from 6:30 until I fall into bed after 10. Today, after a day visiting a good friend on the Cape, I arrived to a mess of a house, two cats looking at me with hunger in their eyes, and so much to do for this weekend:

cook something for potluck; turn 10 lbs of tomatoes into sauce; vacuum and clean up house before hosting homeschool social; plan what to wear to meet these ladies in the flesh; pick up birthday gift & attend party; get to vet's to pick up special cat food; make it to post office before it closes at noon. . .and on and on and on. . .

And then, my little guy turned to me with tired eyes and asked for a bath. This was unusual as we had just finished eating pizza, and the kids know that this is usually followed by a Popsicle. After confirming that he did indeed want a bath before dessert, I sighed and took him upstairs, trying not to think about all the things I needed to do, that I had planned to start doing while Fairly Odd Father handled bath and bedtime.

I filled our tub and put D. into it. He asked for bubbles, and I turned on the air jets. He asked for more bubbles, so I added soap.

Watching him play in the water, I was even more aware of my own tired body, my salty and sandy skin. Despite the cries of "should do, need to do, must do" in my head, I found myself taking off my clothes and joining him in our big bubbly tub.

He was delighted.

He poured water over my head again and again. We popped bubbles and let the water wash away all the sand, salt and stress. The water was cool and bubble-less by the time we were done.

I may be older and, supposedly, wiser, but my two-year-old son sometimes has all the answers.


Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Sorry Seems to be The Hardest Word

Time: just before 5:00 pm

After a busy day, I've jumped on the laptop to hit my favorite site (allrecipes) to figure out what to do with leftover chicken.

Belly enters the room and begins w-h-i-n-i-n-g about dinner. "I'm huuuuunnnnnnggggggrrrrryyyy!", she wails. "I want a snaaaaaaaaaaaack! You are so meeeeeeaaaannnnnnnn!"

I put her off nicely for a minute, and then lose my cool, shouting, "I AM TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT TO MAKE FOR DINNER SO GO AWAY AND LET ME DO THIS!!!!!!!!"

Her face crumbles, and she runs for her bedroom where I can hear her crying upstairs.

My heart feels that little 'pang' as my anger dissipates. I walk up to her room and tell her I'm sorry for yelling, but that she should also apologize for being such a pest.

"Get out of my room!" is her only reply. Sure 'nuff! No problem there.

A few minutes later, a sheepish Belly comes into the laundry room, where I am folding clothes. I tell her again that I feel badly for yelling, but I also expect her to speak to me with a little more respect.

Quickly changing the subject, she tells me a story about something that happened earlier in the day, something that was sort of funny and silly. I recognize that she is trying to build a bridge back to me, so I laugh with her. I feel better.

She turns and walks out of the room, pausing to say, over her shoulder, "I'm still not ready to say sorry".

Labels: ,

Sunday, August 19, 2007

"I Miss Them Already!"

Lately, my days have involved waking up at 6:30am and sticking my cat with a needle to administer fluids under his skin. Hold on to him as he squirms and growls. Curse when he leaps off, causing needle to squirt fluid all over room. Repeat this sequence about 10 times until we are both exhausted.

Follow this excitement by then giving him three pills and an insulin shot.

Inevitably find a pill on the rug and have to find the cat again to get the pill back down his throat.

And don't forget the older cat with thyroid disease! She needs her medicine too.

Ahhhhh. . . fun times. But, it is worth it.

In other news, we said a sad goodbye to friends who spent the night on their way to a family event (the title of this post? It is what Belly mournfully exclaimed as their car disappeared down the street).

The interesting thing about this particular friend is that I know that she can turn just about anything into a hilarious or poignant story. Last year, there was this post about a Cozy Coupe carjacking. This year, I was too entranced by her daughters to notice if anything was askew, or if my children were acting particularly strange.

Oh my God, her daughters. I think my house would fall down around me as I sat on the couch holding the happiest baby, while the sweetest little two-year-old asked questions like, "can we go to the playground?" (meaning, our backyard). Her delight in things we take for granted (grass, a driveway, the swing set) was contagious.

There was no repeat carjacking, as far as I could tell. Jilly didn't shake her booty; D didn't spit, bite or call someone "stupid!"; Belly was her sweet, "big sister" self. Other than some mad Guitar Hero II playing, we were a pretty normal family.

But, then I saw Liz taking photos of the many naked Barbies lining our bathtub and wondered what she might be thinking. . .

Yes, we miss them already. Just wait until we show up on their doorstep, bags in hand, ready for a good time.

Labels: ,

Sunday, August 12, 2007

What is One Life Worth?

About $2100 and counting.

Yes, you read that correctly. Those of you with pets will probably have your own story about the "vet bill that grew and grew". Those of you without pets are probably thinking we're insane.

What motivates me is to think of the day I brought Zack home from the animal shelter, all of four months old. I promised myself I'd take care of him for as long as he still had the fight in him.

He is still fighting.

Two days ago, his fur was matted, greasy and he could barely sit up to greet me. Today, his fur is soft and fluffy, and he was standing up and eating when I first saw him.

I hope to have him home by Tuesday. Him and a big box of needles and insulin. God help me. I'm afraid of needles and now I have to jab my cat with them twice a day, every day, for as long as he lives. If you see me, and I have scratch marks all over my arms, don't ask.

I may not get those new glasses I wanted, and I will have to cut way back on my spending for a while, but it will be worth it. I'm not ready for him to go, and he isn't either.


Thursday, August 09, 2007

Go here, here and here

The New England Mamas (my "other" blog place) got a nice shout-out here.

You can read my latest post here.

Also, please visit Liz and send her your best thoughts today.

Finally, please keep my kitty Zack in your thoughts. He is in Kitty ICU right now and not doing so well. More about that later.

Labels: , ,

Monday, August 06, 2007

Our Vacation, Part One

'Tis the morning after our vacation, and all is quiet in the house. The only sound I hear is the sound of giant trucks doing some sort of construction (shouldn't there be a rule that they can't do this before 8am???).

The nicest thing is that I feel. . .relaxed. This is an odd feeling for me, especially after vacation since I usually come back exhausted and a bit frazzled. What is my secret?

1. We drove, and didn't try to fly anywhere.

2. We stayed in a condo, which meant I could cook dinner, make coffee whenever I wanted it and do laundry a couple of times during the week (I realize this doesn't sound relaxing, per se, but going out to dinner with three kids under the age of 6 is NOT FUN; plus the laundry thing makes it easier now that we are home).

3. We stayed in Vermont---land of beautiful mountains, friendly people, clean air and great local beer. Here is where we stayed, specifically.

4. The girls could participate in 'camp' any day they chose. I realize this isn't for everyone, but it was wonderful for us, especially Belly who would've ditched us to join camp for the rest of the summer, had we let her.

If there was a downside, it was that we spent a lot of money, probably as much as our honeymoon, although we now had three kids and
my mom with us. There were ways we could've done it for less, but I didn't figure this out until we were there. So, I learned that I should explore options besides those presented in the shiny color brochure.

I also learned a bunch of other things about my family---but, more on that later. Right now, I want to go outside and listen to the birds (still audible beneath the din of the trucks) and pretend that I'm looking out at huge green mountains.