Jen's School of Faulty Parenting

"In my day, sonny, kid shows were just on Saturday mornings from 7 to 11. Unless you could stomach The Hilarious House of Frankenstein at 6:30 and whatever drivel came after Fat Albert at 11:30."

Usually, if my kids are watching TV, I prefer them watching one of the channels that don't air commercials during children's programming. But the gloves seem to come off on Saturdays.

Middle Child was watching cartoons this morning and finally saw a commercial advertising Star Wars toys at Burger King. Needless to say, he became a one-track minded child after that. We. Had. To. Go.

NOW!!!

We held him off for a little while but then decided to pile everyone in the car and drive 45 minutes away to freakin' Burger King. Man, our parents would NEVER have done that, which makes me fear for whatever kind of behemoth we're creating. Anyway, we had to go to Canadian Tire and Future Shop at some point so we made a family excursion out of it.

Wouldn't you know it, there were 31 different toys offered and they let the kids choose. Great. Because there's nowhere I'd rather be than spending an entire Saturday afternoon at a fast food joint.

They actually picked faster than I thought they would. Middle Child was determined to pick a bad guy (he ended up with Darth Maul) and was soooo happy. He was even the first to finish his veggie burger kid meal.

Momentum was good so we ran in to a CD shop. I left with Ben Folds's latest (see? I can be mellow, too) and Husband bought the best of Morrisey and some Antonio Carlos Jobim jazz stuff. Why Jobim? Because "Antonio Carlos Jobim" is the title of a Heatmiser (Elliott Smith's old band) song and Husband found that intriguing enough to investigate further. Couldn't he have downloaded some song to see what Jobim was all about? Isn't that the Canadian way? I swear, he is the straightest arrow there ever was.

Didn't see any of these at the CD shop. Wish I did though. You MUST give a listen to the Little Marcy songs!

Lloyd and Duckie told me years ago

I was listening to the radio in the kitchen while I folded laundry (ah, yes, my glamourous life!) and it was a repeat of a Valentine's Day interview with some anthropologist.

Now, I love anthropology. I could just eat Desmond Morris books with a spoon. So, I grabbed my tea, stopped playing sock lotto for a bit and sat down.

It was a neat interview. They were talking about the physicality of falling in love: what happens to your body. In short, you get elevated levels of dopamine, which is a neurological thingie that transmits messages and bombards your brain. It makes you feel giddy and, I guess, gives you that blind high you get when you first fall for someone.

The anthropologist, Helen Fisher is her name, went on from there, giving examples of how one would use this knowledge to win someone's heart. They were all a little out-of-the-ordinary; stuff like take him for a swim after dark or go explore an unfamiliar place. Different, unexpected, exciting and somewhat dangerous actions changes the baseline levels of dopamine.

So as they're talking about her book, I got to thinking about Pretty in Pink again. When did I think Andie was dumb not to have chosen Duckie? The dance at the record shop! And then I thought of Say Anything. Man, my heart still burns for John Cusack because of that movie. And what do I remember most? When he stood outside her house holding the boombox while Peter Gabriel sang In Your Eyes.

All these movies I've watched, all these books I've read, and not to mention experiences I've been fortunate enough to have (only one with Husband, but it was pretty good), it's all been there. I just wasn't really watching.

And then I went back to folding my true love's socks.

May two-four and no beer was ingested

My Charming Husband didn't leave me for his mistress Big Bertha Saturday after all. He spent the morning cleaning the kitchen and the attic while I worked a little on his loudmouth golf pants.

Then we took the kids to the beach.

We love Lake Huron; the vastness is astounding. I can't vouch for other parts of the lake but the beaches we go to have clear blue water. The only problem is that you never know what the shoreline is going to be like from year to year. Once the winter melts, is it a sandy beach or a rocky beach? This year, it looks pretty rocky, which made Baby Boy reeeallly happy. He spent about an hour throwing rocks in. The other kids went in and out of the water, collecting stones to paint and looking for fossils.

But then I was a golf widow on Sunday.

My baby sister came over for a visit, but mostly to see Revenge of the Sith. (My review? Great movie. Too bad we had to suffer through the first two to get to this one. Oh, and sooo not for little kids. There were children as young as 4 in the theatre but I wouldn't show anyone under 10 this movie). Baby Sister wanted to see the last Star Wars movie with someone she saw the first one with. And I was grateful because I still had a few questions after the movie, and she was a little more alert than I was.

If there's anything Star Warsian you've wondered about, it gets answered in Sith, but often in just one sentence, so you really need to be attentive. Why did Obi Wan practically allow Darth Vader to kill him in A New Hope? Answered. If C3PO was in all six movies, why does he have no memory of the beginnings of Anakin Skywalker? Answered. The only question I had left unanswered really was why did they bother putting in Chewbacca in Sith? Wookies, fine, but why Chewbacca specifically?

It probably has everything to do with merchandising. Even Baby Boy enjoys Chewbacca. He has this song he sings like a litany. It's the "I Love..." song where he just names all the people he loves. And he does sing "I love Chewbacca" somewhere after "I love Granny."

Star Wars toys that never were. But I think Bike Buddy Kenobi is a million dollar idea. Has sound.

A week of blog

Only now have I been able to muster up the energy to the attic to post something. I had been coming down with a cold all this week but it really hit me on Thursday. I was weak, couldn't eat a thing, couldn't even keep plain clear tea down. Baby Boy and I ended up spending the whole day napping, gathering just enough energy to pick the older kids up from school.

I get there and my friend's son has this thing where he likes to grab my keys and run to the other side of the school. Usually, I let him do what he feels he needs to do, but I just wanted to make a clean getaway, in case I spewed chunks right there in front of the principal. And what does this little guy do? He grabs the keys and puts them in his mouth. I think I may have caught this bug from him but if not, ewww, I guess I'll be hearing from his mother.

And then husband comes home after a day of golf with my uncle. I could barely keep upright, let alone try to be entertaining.

It's funny. I used to think I was a lousy housekeeper but it really has nothing to do with me, I've learned. I caught one of them (though no one confessed) pouring about half a box of Shreddies into a huge bowl with about three cups of organic 2% and then WALKED AWAY. Then Baby Boy grabbed it and dumped it on himself and the kitchen floor.

But that's not all. After my one day of convalescing, the Friday sunrise lit for me a house in utter disarray. Dirty dishes everywhere (what happened to Mummy's rule of no eating anywhere but the kitchen and dining room?), toys and clothes all over the place. Today, in the attic, I now see that they really saved the best for this room. Husband is golfing again today. I'm thinking of buggering off for four hours on my own when he gets back and telling them, "Here's some garbage bags. There's the washing machine and the dishwasher. This here is a vaccuum and this is a bottle of Fantastic. See you!"

Oh, look! I can see someone's karate gee under the sofa.

The older kids had a Kick-a-thon at their karate school Monday. I held the bags for them as they had to kick it higher than their waist and flat-footed. I sponsored them for a penny a kick, thinking there's no way they could do that much. Wrong! Daughter kicked 690 times. Even my uncoordinated anti-athelete Middle Child cleared 440 kicks in 20 minutes. Half way through, he stopped and wiped his face on my jeans (yeah, thanks) exclaiming in utter disbelief, "Mumma! I'm sweat! I'm sweat!" Seriously, it's probably the first time my little slowpoke has ever perspired.

And yesterday gave me a bit of an adventure, too. Daughter spent the night barfing and suffering with this wicked cold and a barky cough so I kept her home from school. She was totally fine by 10 am but I still thought she should stick around. I took them downtown to buy my mother-in-law a birthday present (I leave it to my husband to get her something - she's HIS mother, after all - but he always leaves it to the last minute and then asks me to do something about it in a panic), and then to Middle Child's favourite restaurant in town. It's a place where they serve all-day breakfast. Man, my kids can pack it away. Combined, they ate four pancakes, four sausages, four strips of bacon, two pieces of whole wheat toast, about two scrambled eggs (that was just Middle Child), and a handful of hash browns each. Oh, and downed with milk. I ate a slice of toast. I'm still a little queasy. Lost three pounds though.

We got home and I thought I'd do a little gardening. I bought some kong coleus, a raspberry bush, some ferns, a hydrangea bush and some boxwood hedging. The previous owners of this home really did nothing but mow the lawn so we had all kinds of five year old maple saplings that I've been removing. However, our next-door neighbours are very elderly. Lovely people but their garden is overgrown with weeds and saplings. Daughter "discovered" a path behind our shed between the chain-link fence that cordons off the two properties. Daughter and I have done our best to keep that back part there clear of weeds but the neighbours? I swear, I want to offer my services but they're very proud people. They get upset when we shovel the snow off their driveway for them.

So daughter is playing in this pathway when she walks into a twig. Poked her right in the eyeball. "Mumma, I'm seeing all blurry." Called this after-hours provincial government number our family physician wants us to call before going to emergency. Was on hold for 25 minutes. Meanwhile, I put some Polysporin eyedrops and that gave her some relief. And the government nurse recommended? Go to emergency. Duh. What a waste of time. Anyway, she was seen pretty much right away (I love living in a small city sometimes) where the doctor checked for a scratch. There was one. Her course of treatment? Polysporin eyedrops for two days.

Maybe it's the black hair but I'm feeling like Wonder Woman.

I'm still not cleaning this room, though.

Quick! Stash the WeedEx!

We went, en famille, to the Dandelion Festival yesterday. Husband's lab tech is involved in the organizing (or the guy she's currently "having relations" with is and she's there for the, er, ride). Husband felt that if we didn't show our faces, it would make for a rough week.

It was very, uh, West Coast. I didn't realize our little city had so many hippies.

The highlight was when Little Miss Drama (my Mini Me, as it were that day), graciously accepted a piece of dandelion pizza. It was just a crust with tomato sauce and some grilled dandelion leaves placed on top. She walked away, and, with a talent that would rival Olivier, faked this sneeze in order to tilt the pizza so all the dandelion leaves fell to the ground.

I'm teaching the kids to precede their requests to me by saying, "I beseech you, my queen!"

Even Paul Hunter looks fed up

I'm boycotting the news.

If I have to watch any more parliamentary bullcaca (is it me or does Stephen Harper look like he's wearing makeup?), I fear I will develop narcolepsy.

And don't even get me started on the Gomery Inquiry. Hasn't politics always been a who-you-know business? And Canadian History 101 taught me that appeasing Quebec has been a pasttime for all political parties for hundreds of years.

Isn't there something more important for us to know?

Yesterday, I was watching The National with the husband. Right at the beginning, I predicted what stories would be reported and at what time. I was uncannily accurate, which leads me to believe that I don't need to watch anymore.

Bugged

I am having a war on ants and, therefore, a war on lazy-ass family members who:
a) forget the rule of eating only in the kitchen and dining room
b) listen to other family members who say, "I'm sure the rule doesn't include snacks in the playroom"
c) leave beer bottles and coffee cups just about anywhere
d) think it's perfectly fine not to get rid of tree limbs on the lawn after pruning and take almost a year to call a mason to look at repointing

but I digress.

I'm the schmuck that has to stay in this house all day. I'm not into camping or roughing it one bit so bugs of any kind where I live is completely repulsive to me.

Looking online, I gather my problem isn't as bad as it could be but seeing even one ant in the kitchen is enough to consume me, obviously. I bought ant traps (four different kinds) but I'm finding the silicon dioxide to be better. They walk over the powder and track it back to the nest where it will dehydrate them. I've seen less since using the stuff, but my next step will be a homemade borax and icing sugar mix that they'd feed the queen. Only problem with that is it would be toxic to the kids, where as the silicon dioxide isn't.

If this isn't over by the end of the month, I'm calling an exterminator and crashing at a friend's house. Eww. Eww. Eww.

Husband thinks I'm going nuts (and he could be right). He even went to bed early and missed the finale of The Amazing Race which, I think, was the happiest ending possible. After years of watching reality TV, never had I been able to pick someone to cheer for at the beginning and see them win at the end. Hearing about Uchenna and Joyce's problems conceiving a child and how they'd use the million dollars to pay for invitro fertilization, how could your heart not bleed for these people? And then they're at the finish line but they didn't have enough for the cabbie so they continued to beg strangers for cash? Man, that's so upright, or maybe just forward-thinking so the cabbie wouldn't come back and watch the show then sue their asses off.

I was even thinking of them and other childless people on Mother's Day as I was weeding my parents' garden. Neighbour kids were being loud and generally obnoxious: "Not for one thousand million money." "Oh yeah? Well I'm not for FIVE million hundred money." I can kind of filter out kid screams by now, knowing when my attention is critical to the situation. But this time, I was listening to the kids and thought, "I can think of a bunch of people who would give their eyeteeth for the priviledge of children." Whennnnnn, a woman came out and gave them big time hell for being "little brats" and "ruining the day for others." The kids were then sent to their rooms and I was left with boring silence.

Five dollar ralph

I took Middle Child grocery shopping yesterday. It was really sweet because we seldom ever get to do anything just him and me, you know?

Of course, I'd be tempting fate bringing any kid grocery shopping, what with the "buy me this" and "buy me that."

However, Middle Child is, well, a unique piece of work. He nearly had a fit when he saw apricots, jumped up and down over applesauce and, amid all the chocolate covered whatever in the bulk section, he begged me for banana chips.

He also implored me to buy blackberries. I swear, there was only about 30 in the container and they wanted $4.99. Man, I remember living out west and filling up buckets and buckets from bushes off the side of the road - but only once a year. You could do it every day for months and months if you wanted, they're so abundant.

Anyway, bought the blackberries. Took them home and washed them because the kids wanted them as their "Survivor" treat (yes, it's the one day a week we let them stay up). Baby Boy started getting really territorial about them and just pounded them back two at a time.

While my husband was upstairs on toothbrush patrol, I had Baby Boy on my lap while I flicked the channels. "My tummy hurts. Put cream on it," the little guy cried. So I did. And then he barfed blackberries and organic homo milk all over me. Lovely.

And a happy mother's day to you all.

Check out this Swedish guy's magnificent collection of airline barf bags. A fine lesson in good graphic design AND geography!

It was either that or a telescope

After years of collecting Air Miles, the husband blew them all away on a trip to visit his family. Do I need to add that we're all going?

What we didn't know was that only a certain percentage of seats are reserved for Air Miles people so instead of going in July, we're going in August. Why July? Well, one of the women my husband works with wants a couple of weeks then so she can entertain friends coming in from Alberta somewhere. But, more pressing was because Husband wanted to alieviate his brother from having to entertain their father who has decided to take a "vacation" to his city, which is just a 90 minute drive (if I remember right).

Anyway, so August it is. I've taken a page from parents of autistic children and have begun preparing Baby Boy with stories about airplanes and long waits and being nice at other people's houses.

We'll be staying with the aforementioned brother and his family, which will be nice. I'm sure Baby Boy is going to get along great with my nephew, whom he only met once when they were really wee. And my husband absolutely loves his brothers. But I sense the golf clubs are coming on the plane. Gawd, I just hope we are all on our best behaviour.

It's the call no parent wants to get

My daughter forgot her lunchbox at school. Doesn’t sound like a calamity, right? Well, apparently it is when you hadn’t eaten anything but the three leftover chicken balls you mum packed.

“But I’m starrrrving,” she complained on the way to karate from violin lessons. She was expecting to save her food for this time. I sent her into the karate school with Miss Dramatic clutching her stomach.

So I wasn’t very surprised to get a call not 15 minutes later from the Sempei. What was surprising was that he was talking about Middle Child.

The guy sounded really upset, totally freaked out that Middle Child’s hands were purple and ice cold. Sure enough, when we got there, his hands were just as he described them.

So I called the government’s health help line and they said he was just cold. I took his temperature as the nurse requested and it read 33.3 C. She then told me to put his hands in a bucket of lukewarm water. They pinked up a bit. She suggested I throw him in warm clothes after a nice bath and see a doctor tomorrow.

We’ll see a doctor later today and his hands look totally normal now. But, ooh, a little freaky.

I just got some wicked plaid fabric to make the husband a pair of these.

Blane? That's not a name. That's a major appliance.

Remember how I couldn't get "The Rules of Attraction" out of my head?

I found a way. I saw...PRETTY IN PINK!!!

Admittedly, I saw the movie four times in the theatre at the time. I'm dating myself by admitting this, I know, and bringing to your attention that I was 16 when Sixteen Candles came out (do you wonder what ever happened to Michael Schoeffling?) and I was getting ready for my own prom when Pretty in Pink came out.

I had a mad crush on Duckie. I loved Andie's outfits - with the exception of that gawdawful prom dress. The one Iona gave her was perfect in every way. Mind you, this is the girl who wore a $12 vintage red/black taffeta Marilyn Monroe-esque 50's number. And I went to a high school where the clique rivalries made the Vietnam war seem congenial in comparison.

I watch the movie and I remember all those preppies, though I don't remember any dressed like Steff or Blane. Those Miami Vice linens slay me. Oh, Steff. I remember thinking he was such a stereotype but now, 20 years later, I can recognize the character as an upscale scuzzbucket in an embryonic stage.

Ah, high school romance. I never trusted the boys. I always felt their actions toward me were made of one part benevolent altruist and one part dog penis. But I digress.

And the soundtrack rocked! They needed The Rave-Ups' "You Lost It All When You Lost Me" but, hey, they had Echo and the Bunnymen. You gotta remember that those John Hughes films' soundtracks were all a cut above anything else offered in other movies.

But I always felt that the movie ended wrong. Blane's prom speech, "I believed in you but you didn't believe in me" had me wondering if he was hepped up. Yeah, he believed in her; that's why he ignored her upon his friends' requests. Maybe because I identified with Duckie, I thought that the devoted Duckman was robbed. Apparantly, the original ending was Duckie and Andie ending up together but test audiences were disappointed and John Hughes didn't want the idea of a cross-class relationship inevitably failing.

Now I hear that John Hughes is planning on a sequel. Molly Ringwald, Andrew McCarthy and Jon Cryer have all agreed to be in it. I'm hoping there would be the others: Annie Potts, Spader, Harry Dean Stanton of course. Gina Gershon, Dweezil Zappa, Kristy Swanson (the movie Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Andrew Dice Clay and Dean Wormer's real life daughter were in the original movie too. And the actress who played Andie's friend, Jenna, died. I read she was beaten to death by her boyfriend...or had an allergic reaction to something. FYI, Merrit Butrick, the guy who played Slash on "Square Pegs" (and Kirk's son in "Wrath of Khan") died of AIDS in the late 80s. Gotta love the internet!

I'd probably watch it, I must say. But you just know it's gonna suuuuck. I'm thinking it will go something like this: Andie and Blane break up that summer once they realize they have nothing in common and, frankly, he's going to the ivy leagues and she'll be going to some other university. Fast forward 20 years, she's some single mom (knocked up by some musician), still listening to music on her iPod. She bumps into Blane in a Starbucks. Finds out he's penniless after he and his parents took a dive with tech stocks. The next day she goes to Barnes and Noble to find Duckie signing his bestseller "Strong Lips".

See? I can write for Hallmark.

In honour of my 13th weddiing anniversary, here is a list of 13 things I have learned from Charming Husband.

1. Pringles tubes fit nicely in a car cupholder.
2. There are many ways to load a dishwasher.
3. You can get a bad sunburn whilst golfing, even in April.
4. There's a time and a place for everything.
5. Beer compliments any food.
6. Chips can be a meal.
7. It's perfectly acceptable to read over my shoulders.
8. There are no bad Beatles songs.
9. There are bad Rolling Stones songs.
10. I used to like Camper Van Beethoven, but not anymore.
11. You can fall in love with a friend.
12. I do not have strong genetics to pass down.
13. It doesn't matter if I live in a mouldy basement apartment or in another province or in a four bedroom house with a treefort. It doesn't matter what colour the walls are or how much furniture I have in it. The only thing that matters about my home is that he's in it.

I'm sappy today.

But tomorrow, he gets this.