michellany

A Little Family Edutainment

Last night at the dinner table, my husband and I played a game with the kids to see who could think up words that sound the same but have different meanings.  (What can I say?  We're geeks. And those of you who are even geekier undoubtedly know that we were discussing homophones.)

When it came to my turn, I said "bow" (thinking of the bow of a ship, or the bough of a tree). 

Two of our kids immediately thought of the kind of 'bow' you take in front of an audience after you've given a performance...but that seemed to be all they could muster.

Until suddenly my 8-year-old piped up, with impeccable timing and requisite grooviness: 

'Bow-Chicka-Woww-Woww!'

It was a proud parenting moment.  Clearly, my work here is done.

It's the 'Homestretch'! (Please disregard that popping sound...)

 

It's here!  Day 8 of my husband's 8-day trip to Japan.  His flight lands in a few hours.  We're in the homestretch, bay-bee! 

My husband travels often for work, and while lately the trips are less frequent, they are longer in duration.  So every few weeks, or so, he's gone for about a week...or so.

The three kiddos and I, we always survive.  But inevitably, while my husband is gone, exciting things happen.  Not good things, mind you, but exciting things.  As in, things that need urgent attention.  Like main water line breaks that leave us without running water for a few days. (True story.) Electrical problems that require the expertise of three different electricians.  (Ugh - don't ask.) Injuries requiring emergency room visits. (CPS probably has started a file.)

This, of course, is in addition to the standard loads of dishes & laundry, trips to school for volunteer work & conferences with teachers, shuttling kids to lessons & playdates, shopping for and preparing meals, reviewing homework, and refereeing the 'knock-down drag-outs' of the ages.  I'm sure there's more, but I'm too tired to remember it just now.

Before I know it, Depeche Mode's techno-lament "I think that God's got a sick sense of humor" is running in a continuous loop in my head.  And I'm not proud of this, but more than once I've looked heavenward and literally hissed 'Uncle!' under my breath.

Single parents, let me just say, you have my utmost admiration and respect.

Eventually, I become bored with my pity party for one, and I remember how lucky I am.  I mean, my kids are awesome.  Not perfect.  Not easy.  But flippin' awesome. 

And in my husband's absence, my heart indeed grows fonder.  For one thing, when he's here, toilet unclogging is his exclusive domain.  And ladies, get ready to swoon:  the man does laundry.  Not just his own laundry, the whole family's!  Not just occasionally, but every week.  And while I may do all the shopping and cooking, he does the cleaning up afterward.  Well, most of it.

Alas, as my heart grows fonder, unfortunately my lower end also grows bigger.  Much to my chagrin, by the time daddio comes home after a week away, there's always a little bit more of me to love.  Dealing with the emotional ups and downs of a 5, 6, and 8 year old leaves my own nerves jangled and raw.  Sadly, my salve is 'comfort food'.  Obviously it would be better if it was 'comfort exercise'.  But before I beat myself up too much (and need another cookie), I try to keep things in perspective:  it's still better than 'comfort vodka'.  Or 'comfort vicodin'.  Right?

So, I've got my limitations.  Among them:  I lose my patience.  I get cranky.  I eat ice cream every night. 

But at the end of the day - or this case, week - I am my own she-ro.  And my anthem?

I am woman.  I am invincible.  I am popping the button on my jeans.

Yep, it's the home 'stretch', alright...

 

'Please Stand By for a Demonstration of Relevancy'

As calls to arms go, this one was BRILLIANT.

If you are a blogger, particularly of the 'mommy' variety, you may be acquainted with The Bloggess, aka Jenny.  If you are not already familiar with her, you may seriously want to check her out.

 
Last night Jenny posted about a PR pitch she received from Brandlink Communications that was wrong on oh-so-many levels. Not only was it an Epic Fail from the initial pitch sent to her, the PR company's subsequent mishandling of the entire episode is a casebook cautionary tale of what NOT to do if you want people to ever consider you, *ahem*, a public relations company.

You can read about the PR Pitch from Hell here.  It's actually quite entertaining.  Up to the point where your blood might start boiling.

A few humble suggestions for Brandlink in moving forward:

• Have a least a passing familiarity with the bloggers to whom you send your pitches.
• Have a least a passing familiarity with the exponential power of the interwebs, particularly if you're pitching to, oh, bloggers.
• Try Spellcheck - you'll like it.
• When you screw up royally, own it and offer a genuine apology instead of a self-stroking justification of your appalling behavior.
• Better yet, don't be a contemptuous bully in the first place - especially to us "Mommy's" [sic].
• Show us you do not tolerate misogynistic miscreants among your ranks.
• Never, never, never underestimate the power of a woman who possesses a giant metal chicken named Beyonce, a pinata full of prozac, and a legion of followers ready and willing to go 'all angry-villager' on you when you deserve it.

For each of you who Brandlink identifies as its clients, here's a quick question:  Is this the kind of 'public relations' that is representative of your brand and values?  I (and trust me, many others) are watching with great interest to see your response...

I discovered The Bloggess years ago.  Hers is one of the few blogs listed in my blogroll, because she alternately makes me laugh until I cry and helps me find laughter through my tears. (No small feat, that.) 

While The Bloggess is irreverent, she is hardly irrelevant. Last night she made one blog post and sent one tweet, and within a few hours, literally millions of us expressed our outrage and support.  (Twitter crashed, and I suspect we caused it.) 

Why? 

Because Jenny supported us.  She took a stand not only for herself, but for other bloggers, like me, the 'Mommy' ones.  The 'little' ones, who Brandlink thought it was acceptable to openly taunt and bully by saying '(you) should be flattered (to be) viewed relevant enough to be pitched at all'.

Ironically, the only thing that has become truly 'irrelevant' in all this?  The product these jokers tried to get Jenny to peddle for them in the first place.  And the only thing Brandlink got right?  When they initially pitched that "this is on [sic] Mommy’s [sic] are all going to want to follow.” 

Oh, yes.  Just not for the reasons they wanted.

Word(limited) Wednesday: 10.05.11

It is purely coincidental this follows on the heels of my last post.  That being said, I sure wish I'd been there for the book signing...

 
 

'Dumb Things' and Other Delicacies

We had Chinese food delivered tonight for dinner.  You can imagine our surprise when Hugh told us he wanted to eat the 'Stupid Things'. 

We were surprised at first because we discourage the use of the word 'stupid' in our house.  But we were further surprised, or better said, puzzled, when we realized that our four year old wasn't referring to Chinese food in its entirety as 'stupid' - he was looking for a specific item in our delivery bag, and he seemed pretty enthusiastic about it...like he really didn't opine it was something stupid, but rather, something desirable.  So as we tried to tease it out, the conversation went something like this:

Us:  Hugh! What do you mean, the 'stupid things'?  Chinese food isn't stupid.  Mommy and Daddy don't ask you to eat stupid things...

Hugh:  No, no...I mean the dummies...the dumb things...the white things.

Us:  You mean the dumplings?

Hugh:  Yes!  The dumblings!  I love those!

....................

Ahh, Hugh...we love YOU, too!

 
 

WHOOSH!

That's the sound of technology passing me by.

One day not too long ago, I was driving Gilmer to a birthday party.  We were in my husband's car, which, unlike my Hottyssey minivan, has a GPS system.  Since I usually know where I am going, and I'm not that familiar with how the GPS gizmo works, I usually set the big screen in the dash to display the full range of radio stations at my fingertips - because, you know, that's how I roll. 

But that day, we were going to a neighborhood I hadn't been to before, and I made several wrong turns.  Gilmer was getting impatient, and as he has become quite adept at telling time, he has, almost by definition, become equally adept at telling me that I am late...since I am - ahem - almost always running a few minutes late.

From the back seat, my agitated little guy started yammering out the instructions for using the GPS system.  Luckily, about that same time, I figured out the way I needed to go, and within 5 minutes, we were there.  But the fact that my six year old was willing, eager and able to operate the nagivation equipment in our car, while I was not, definitely got my attention. 

WHOOSH!

The Little Mermaid, Uncut?

My four-year-old asked me to make tuna fish sandwiches for lunch today.  When I pulled out the can of 'Chicken of the Sea' to oblige his request, he did a double take.  Then he furrowed his brow, lowered his voice to a most serious, concerned tone, and asked,

"Mom, is tuna fish made from Ariel?"

Hmmm...good question...

   

Not making this up

Walking in downtown Atlanta a couple of days ago, my husband and I passed a sidewalk performer playing the saxophone.  Although there was no bicycle in sight, he played while wearing a bicycle helmet. 

I was puzzled, but my husband realized he was simply practicing safe sax.