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.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow, Part II

Before I get into my next stage of "hair confusion" (to see the first stage, click here), let me see if I can convince you to look at something else instead. . .


First, I signed myself up to participate in Neil Kramer's (of
Citizen of the Month fame) Great Interview Experiment. The gracious, kind and intelligent Mocha Momma was selected to interview me. When I found out that she is High School Administrator, I thought, "Oh, terrific, she gets to interview the homeschooling mother-freak!"

But, I hate to disappoint anyone who was hoping for some sort of "School versus Homeschool Mom Death Match" , because she was wonderful! Her questions were fun to answer and hopefully give her readers (who are thinking, "who the heck is that loser in a prom gown?") a good picture of who I am. You can find the interview here.


Next, I'm over at
New England Mamas talking about some great in-home birthday party ideas for the rugrats. "Great" meaning: not a lot of money or prep time needed, yet fun for the age group in mind.


Oh, you are still here? Well, I have something for you.

When I last left you in Bad-Hair Land, I was looking pretty bleached and fluffy. Slowly, I started to wean myself from the peroxide and even started going shorter:

What a vixen, eh?

Looks like I slept with my hair rolled in Coke cans.

Still not ready to show off my ears. But, my hair is less filling!

At the end of my last post, I said I'd share a photo from my perm days. Those days are actually much earlier than this series of photos, but a promise is a promise. So here I am, circa 1986:

Funny how I dressed older at 21 than I do now. . .

Labels: , , ,

Monday, February 25, 2008

Impressionable Kids

The girls have been into paper dolls lately. Almost every day, a piece of paper is thrust at me with the command, "I need a Mommy, a Daddy, a little boy and a little girl", or "five little girls in ballet clothes".

It takes me just a few minutes to complete my job. I've been drawing these dolls since I was eight. My sister and I used to sit in our family room and draw a family of dolls along with clothing, beds and pets. Once every thing was created, colored, cut out and ready to play, we got bored with them.

Here I am, a few decades later, still drawing dolls. And, despite having almost no artistic talent whatsoever, my girls think that I am the Doll Master.

The other day, as I started another one of my familiar drawings (head shaped like a funnel, skinny arms, mom dressed like a Puritan), Jilly breathed, "You are the BEST draw-er ever, Mommy".

Big sister Belly looked over and commented, "Yeah, but she isn't as good as Monet, though".

My work:
Monet's work:

Labels: ,

Friday, February 22, 2008

Double Dog Dare You

Alpha DogMa made a comment to my last post that sounded almost like a dare. She wrote, "The only way these photos could be better is if you had glasses. Because bad late 80s hair PLUS bad late 80s eyeglasses makes for liquid-snorted-out-of-your-nose laughter."

Well, here ya go:

And also, a good ol' prom photo from the early 80's:

Just don't bring up the "blue eyeshadow" photos, cause those I ain't sharin'.

For those who came here for an update on the kiddos, here is a story for you:

I ordered this neat book called See Inside Ancient Rome. It's a picture book that features different scenes from Rome's glory days. There are several flaps that you can lift on each page which shows you behind a door or curtain, or tells you an interesting little fact about the scene.

Two pages are dedicated to Rome's public baths. On these pages is a scene of the interior of a bath house filled with little naked cartoon men. There are men in the hot pools, men in the steam room and men lifting weights outside. It is all very modest, save for some cute little cartoon bums.

Belly was fascinated with this section of the book and asked a bunch of questions ("where are the women?"; "why can't we go to something like this?"; "aren't they embarassed?"). We giggled at the little cartoon bums.

Then, peering closer at the pages, she asked, "Where are the peanuts*?"


"Um, dear, I'm sure Usborne books has made sure that no peanuts show. See this guy is holding a dumbbell in front of his, uh, peanuts. This guy is sitting. This guy has turned his back."

She looked up at me, grabbed the book out of my hands and muttered, "I'm going to find the peanuts".

*I have sanitized this retelling of the story so that I don't end up with a bunch of weird Google searchers looking for, um, peanuts.

Labels: , , ,

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow, Part I

Back when I read fashion magazines, I remember seeing a monthly column in InStyle which featured a photographic time line of a particular celebrity. For instance, if the magazine was focusing on Brooke Shields, they would have a head shot from her Pretty Baby days, her Calvin Klein Jeans days, a photo from her years at Princeton and so on, up until the present. There would be references to her eyebrows, her mane of hair and her face which looks better every year.

I'm no celebrity, but as I look back at photos of myself, I am struck by one thought: "What the heck is wrong with me? Why can't I find a style and stick with it?"

I often tell people that I change my hair because, unlike getting a tattoo, it doesn't hurt, it isn't permanent and it doesn't put me anywhere near a needle.

Since hitting adulthood, there have been the "Bleached Blonde Days"; there has been "Super Short" and "Pretty Long". There were perms that left me poodle-like. Hair has been colored blonde, brown, red and orange. I never got the nerve up to try pink or black, although I have considered it.

I don't think I've ever cried over a bad color or hair cut. My mantra is "Hair Grows". It also helps that I'm not a celebrity and, therefore, no one is critiquing my poor judgment.

But, I will now let you, my dear readers, walk with me down memory lane. Over the next few weeks, I'll publish a few photos from different periods in my adult life. Be kind.

The first set of photos is, regrettably, from the "Bleached Blonde, Big Hair" period.

I call this first photo "Come Fly With Me" due to the huge wings of hair fanning out from the sides of my face:
This second photo is my college portrait---can you see the perfect curling-iron curl on the side of my head? Finally, check out the "bleached into oblivion" look. My sister should be pleased that I have covered up her photo since she went through an unfortunate phase of "fluffy mall hair". Stay tuned for the next installment in this series which will showcase my "poodle 'do (or don't)", the in-between days and the gradual darkening of my white-blonde head.

Labels: ,

Monday, February 18, 2008

(Little) Lady in Red

Today, while Jilly was hosting a playdate, she decided that her friend needed a new hair color. So Jilly took her big sister's red "play" lipgloss and smeared it all over her friend's beautiful dark brown head of hair. Jilly and her friend loved the new look.

Her friend's parents were gracious and laughed it off when they came up to pick up their daughter who now had (somewhat) red and (definitely) sticky hair.

After dinner, we received a call from an amused father. He had washed his daughter's hair three times and dried it with a hair dryer. His wife saw the four-year old after bath time and asked him why her hair was still wet.

It was not wet. The lipgloss was still coating every strand of hair, making it look like she had combed grease into it.

The good news is that the red color that had stained her scalp is gone. But, now the tub has a greasy red ring all along the inside.

We're lucky that these parents are good friends who have a sense of humor.

A few months ago, the girls got together and decided to break every. . .single. . .crayon in their house into teeny tiny bits. I bought them a new box of crayons to say "sorry for the mess".

I guess this time I'll be stopping by with some Clorox for the tub and a hat for Jilly's friend.

I'm writing about donuts, people! DONUTS!

Labels: ,

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Oh My God, I AM Raising Geeks!

Overheard in the Fairly Odd Household the other day:

Belly: "Mommy, could you PLEASE read The Iliad to me while I eat lunch?"

For all you local yokels, I have a post up at New England Mamas about "our" kids' museum.

Labels: , ,

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Ass Over Tea Kettle

Yesterday, Belly and I were snuggled in the big living room chair reading a book together.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jilly coming down the stairs. My heart was instantly in my mouth because she wasn't just coming down the stairs. . .she was rolling, head over heels, over and over and over. . .all the way to the bottom where she landed on the hard wooden floor.

I jumped up and ran to her, expecting the worst. She was crying loudly and hugging her arm to her chest. I was crying too. I looked for blood first and then decided to see if she was really injured.

"Touch your head", "touch your shoulders", "touch your toes", "wiggle your knees", "wiggle your nose", "do the funky chicken". Pretty soon, we were laughing and smiling, and it was obvious she was fine.

"I'm so glad you are ok, Jilly. You really scared me."

"Mommy? You know what? Coming down like that was really fun".


Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Thankfully, I Do Not Embarrass Easily

Want to see a really embarrassing photo of me? Check this out.


Monday, February 11, 2008

What Time Is It?

Today, I bought myself a couple pairs of shorts, a tank top and an adorable bikini. Then I stocked up on Easter Candy and new Easter baskets for the kids.

Phew! Good thing I got that done. It's almost time for the the stores to stock for Fourth of July picnics.

I'm kidding about those purchases, but doesn't it seem like retailers have lost their friggin' minds when it comes to inventory? In mid-January, I walked into our local Target and was confronted with rack upon rack of women's bathing suits, bikinis and cover ups. Further down were capri pants, short-sleeved blouses and mini-skirts. The few remaining winter clothes were crammed onto a few Clearance racks, as if winter was long gone.

This may be fine for Florida, but I live in Massachusetts. Today, the high temperature was 28 degrees. And I needed a new pair of winter gloves.

With low expectations, I went back to Target (hey, it is a mile from my house) to see if I could find winter gloves. Against all odds, I did find them. Two pairs of fleece gloves in between racks of kicky springtime pocketbooks and just down the aisle from all the flip-flops.

The other thing I noticed today was the huge amount of Easter stuff on display in the store. Who are you people buying Easter things in February? Please stop. Please stop now. Maybe if no one bought any of this stuff so early, the retailers would stop putting it out two or three months ahead of time. I'm not ready to think about Easter now, just like I was not ready to think about Valentine's Day in December, or Christmas in September, or Halloween in August.

I'm aging quickly enough. Could we stop fast-forwarding the years?

Labels: ,

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Riding the Rails

Early last week, our youngest, D, said he wanted to take the train to visit Daddy at work. I emailed Fairly Odd Father (a primary mode of communication), and we agreed that we'd take the train into Boston's South Station on Friday and all have lunch together.

We were late getting out of the house (of course), but managed to get onto the train without incident. The conductor hammed it up with the girls like a pro, telling them they had to "smile" to pay their fare. He then tried to make small talk with D who clammed up and refused to show any facial expression whatsoever.

Our meet-up with FOF and lunch went off without a hitch. We had some time to kill before our return train, so we wandered around the station. At one point, D saw a pigeon walking on the floor of the station. This blew his little mind.

A pigeon. Inside. A pigeon inside. Apigeoninside. Apigeoninside!!!!!!

He immediately set out to "catch" (his word) the pigeon which was comical. He had a sense of purpose: this pigeon must go back outside! Whenever he got close, the pigeon did a few lazy flaps of his wings and sailed 10 feet away. This made D scream in laughter. I swear, he'd still be there, walking after this pigeon, if we hadn't pulled him away to get onto our return train.

Once I had the kids back home, the girls collected every spare shoe box and made their own train. Here is the train, about one-quarter of it completed. It now runs the length of my dining room. Their finished train had a hospital and a swimming pool.

Not a bad way to spend a freezing, sleeting Friday.


Thursday, February 07, 2008


The crappy, cold, sunless month of February marks the halfway point of our first official year of homeschooling Belly.

When I contemplated starting a blog, I thought it would be a "homeschooling blog" in that I'd write mostly about what projects, lessons, classes, etcetera I was doing with the kids. I couldn't do it. Writing about what the kids were learning did not excite me enough to sit up late at night tapping away at the keys (apparently writing about toilet troubles , Elton John and giant wieners does).

And yet I think about homeschooling a lot. I think about how I'm teaching different subjects, how Belly compares to her peers, our balance of homeschooler-only activities with more "mainstream" activities and how we present ourselves in public.

That last point? I think about that a lot. Because, even though there are a lot of families who have chosen our method of education in this area, we are still the minority. And there are a lot of stereotypes about us.

After watching the above "spoof", read this, from a press release for an upcoming edition of Wife Swap:

. . .the (family) are born-again Christians who interpret the bible literally and use it as a guide for life. In the . . . family constitution, God comes first, husband. . . .comes second. The family have to serve God at all times with a cheerful heart, and they follow the words of scripture to the letter. L. . . is a stay-at-home mom who home schools her (6) children. C. . . is an ultra traditionalist father who is head of his household and calls himself the "gatekeeper," setting the rules, enforcing discipline and expecting cheerful obedience. . . As for the girls, (Mom is) training them to be stay-at-home moms who will live out God's calling in marriage and motherhood. Dating is not allowed for any of the children. Instead they pray daily for God to send them a spouse when the time is right. L. . .is happy to be her husband's "help-mate," and says that women are the weaker link. The children feel it's ok to be at home as they feel safe, sheltered from the corrupting influences of the outside world.

We don't fit any of these stereotypes (ok, we don't take the kids to Hooters, but that is about it). And, yet, when people first hear we are homeschooling, I have experienced all of these reactions this year:

1. A neighbor said, "Oh, my sister-in-law homeschools her kids but they are really weird and nerdy."
2. A mom from town said, in surprise, "I've never met anyone of You before!"
3. Another woman in town, with whom I was making small talk at our local ice skating rink, turned her back to me, apparently unable to find anything more to say to me.

It is important to me that people see me as a strong, independent-minded woman who wants her children to live "in" this world, not sheltered from it. Who isn't trying to raise brain surgeons who graduate from college at 14.

I want people to see my kids and think, "gee, nice kids!" and not, "geeks" or "socially isolated".

I know I shouldn't care so much what other people think, but I do. But, we're also only six months into this. Perhaps, as time goes by, I will be able to shrug off these misconceptions more easily and just get on with our lives.

Labels: , ,

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

My Ultimate: Things that Suck

Now that I've figured out why my toilet was sucking absolutely nothing. . .come on over here to see what others things suck in my life (in a good way).


Monday, February 04, 2008

Kandoo Kan't Flush

This is a public service announcement for those of us who want our children to have sparkling clean bottoms.
Do your kids use Kandoo Flushable Wipes?
Do you have a '
low water flow' toilet?
Do you have a septic system?

Would you prefer to hold on to several hundred dollars of your money?

If you answered yes to the above questions, than listen to me: do NOT flush Kandoo "Flushable" Wipes.

First, an experiment. Take a few pieces of toilet paper and one Kandoo wipe and put it into a sink of water. Wait 30 seconds. Lift up the toilet paper first. It will already have some tears in it from being lifted out of the water; the water will have already dissolved it so much that you can imagine that as it shoots down the pipes, it disintegrates into tinier and tinier pieces. Look at the Kandoo. It is soaked but still in one piece.
Pull it-----it does not tear. Put it back in the water for another full minute and then try to S-T-R-E-T-C-H it----see how far is stretches without a single tear?
We have friends who had their septic tank cleaned and, when the lid on their tank was opened, all along the top of it were little Kandoo sheets floating on the surface, oblivious of the fact that they were supposed to be breaking down in that cesspool.

In our home, one of these sheets worked its way down our pipes and got stuck to the side of a pipe WAY down into the belly of the house. Another sheet stuck to that one and pretty soon they were collecting and building their own little dam.

The cost of removing this little dam? I don't even want to get into that.

Let's just say that we could've just gone ahead and bought a
bidet instead.

Labels: ,

Saturday, February 02, 2008


My little guy, D, will be moving on soon, and I'm all verklempt. Read all about it here.