Her Bad Mother

Saturday, December 13, 2008

To Infinity. And Beyond.

What can I say? She prefers Space Rangers to Princesses. Can't say I blame her.

(I'm ready to leave Disney now. She's all jacked up on Disney and candy and castles and Buzz Lightyear, and that's great and all, but really? I am exhausted, and need to leave this place so that I can have some quiet time. Also, I need to pass the baby and the girl in the Lightyeartard over to the husband - or anyone, really - so that I can sleep for about a week. Or more. Please.)

Friday, December 12, 2008

Wordless Disney World

I sobbed my heart out at Sea World (Shamu, my god. It's like live-action Free Willy but without the irritating kid. Or, for that matter, the freedom), had an anxiety attack at the Magic Kingdom, and got peed in the face (more or less) by a wee spray-hose of a baby penis, but still: she was delighted, and that's all that matters.

(More pictures here.)

(Anyone got any Xanax? Or muscle relaxants? Because, seriously. I have a very sore back - the boy weighs, like, 22 lbs, which doubles when he bounces, which he does every time he sees a giant duck or mouse or killer whale, which is far more often than you would think - and, also, am likely to run away screaming the next time a licensed character approaches me. Which will probably be tomorrow, so it's already too late, but still. I just kinda needed to say it out loud.)

(Wordless: I'm doing it wrong.)

And Then, There Was Fun

I know exactly how she feels.

We're at Disney World, where, you know, if you don't bounce around in paroxysms of joy they send the dogs after you. It's a long story. I'll catch you up when there's a break in the mayhem, or when I collapse from wish-upon-a-star fatigue. Whichever comes first.

In the meantime, my current reflections on matters Disney can be found here. And the reason that picture rocks, here.

And you can still rock the holidays, Linus-style, and win an IPod shuffle, here.

Send me all your best hopes for survival. I think that I might need them.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

What Would Linus Do?

Emilia is three, and although this is her third Christmas, it is the first that she fully appreciates in all of its indulgent, commercial glory. Last year, when she had just turned two, it was a delightful but slightly baffling exercise in hooting at lights and puzzling over gifts (why there toy here Mama WHY?) and recoiling in terror from shopping mall Santas. This year - with the influence of Christmas-frenzied preschool cronies and her greater awareness of the holiday-saturated culture in general - she knows exactly what is going on, and it is all visions of sugar plums and fat men bearing gifts and candy canes and gingerbread and Dora Magic House dollhouses and remote-controlled race cars and can I have that Mommy will Santa bring me that Mommy can I have it Mommy CAN I???

She has embraced the holidays with all the desperate enthusiasm of an alcoholic at a whiskey fire sale, and although it is adorable, it also a little bit disconcerting.

We've been careful to not hype the holidays as a festival of presents and candy (we've been burned by celebratory excesses in candy before, and are concerned to not make the same mistakes twice). We limit her exposure to any medium that broadcasts holiday-fetishizing advertisements (TV commercials? Easy to eliminate. Shop windows and newspaper circulars? Not so easy.) We have made efforts to explain to her what Christmas really is supposed to be about - star in the east, baby in swaddling clothes, three wise men bearing gifts (what were the presents they were bringing Mommy what were they were they toys???), etc, etc - and talk about the importance of giving and of being grateful and of celebrating family and friends and everything that we are so fortunate to already have. But still, after all of this, she remains intoxicated by Christmas™, the Christmas that decks the halls with boughs of holly and Spongebob Squarepants Advent Calendars (a different crustacean for every day of the season!) and that celebrates, above everything else, the getting of stuff.

I have no principled objection to the Santa side of the holidays. I personally am a very great fan of presents. And I have the fondest memories of childhood Christmases spent huddled on the stairs, spying on the Christmas tree, waiting for Santa to appear and deposit bundles of Barbie and Lego and Eazy Bake Ovens beneath its branches. I don't want to deprive my children of those childish pleasures, nor do I want to teach them that wanting (desiring, coveting) is in itself bad. It is, after all, okay to want things. But I do want them to learn that wanting things for oneself must tempered by - and is most pleasurable in concert with - wanting things for others, and that Christmas is only incidentally about receiving material gifts. I want them to take to heart - when they're old enough to understand - the spirit (if not the letter) of the Christmas story with its tidings of great joy and message of hope and peace and good will. I want them to understand the lesson learned by Charlie Brown, that shiny pink Christmas trees with mounds of presents are kinda cool, but are really beside the point, and that the best feeling that one can have during the holidays is that heart-ful, love-smothered feeling that one gets when one embraces the spirit of good will and hope and love.

But in order for them to understand those things, I need to make sure that their parents are - that I am - demonstrating them. And as I stroll down the main street of our town, coveting shiny things in shop windows, or wander the virtual byways of the Internet, admiring giveaways and crossing fingers that maybe I'll win that laptop or that iPhone or that tin of pistachios, or prepare to post such giveaways myself, it has occurred to me that I sometimes get a little bit caught up in the holiday frenzy of want want want and that maybe I should do something that is more in the spirit of walking my talk.

So I asked myself: faced with an overabundance of gifts and giveaways and assorted virtual whatnots, WHAT WOULD LINUS DO? Besides read excerpts from the Gospel of Luke, that is, which, face it, is lovely but not all that interesting once you've heard it six bajillion times.

And I came up with this: I'm going to (with the permission of those who send stuff) give away a portion of everything that I receive for online giveaways, by which I mean, I'm going to give it to someone who needs it more than the Internets. Specifically, I'm going to take multiples of toy-type stuff to a toy drive, and with those giveaway or review materials that are not toy drive appropriate, I am going to purchase toys in lieu of those products and Emilia and I will take them, together, to the toy drive so that they can be passed on to other, needier children and families. So that she can see how wonderful it is to give.

And because it is also wonderful to receive, I'm giving away this, to you: an iPod shuffle (green). Just leave a comment below, between now and midnight December 17th. But there's a What Would Linus Do catch: in your comment, mention a charity or cause that you support, and (because I'm giving the iPod to the Internets, rather than to a charity drive) I'll make a donation to that charity - a tithe of my ad revenue this month - on behalf of the winning person.

(If you have a blog, and are running giveaways, I invite you to do something similar - set aside one of those giveaways to give to a local family that might appreciate the boost in these difficult times, or take it to a toy drive, or invite your readers to comment to win a donation to a charity of their choice. If you do this, let me know, and I'll compile the links.)

Linus would approve.

(Oh, hey - you can has buttonz! Feel free to lift the code here and post it to spread the word...

Just copy and paste this code to embed:

Thanks to the ever-awesome Motherbumper for pulling a Linus and making these sweet buttons to share.

Labels: , ,

Monday, December 8, 2008

Monday Morning Blogpocalypse

So, I had this epic post all worked out in my head - it was about how to approach Christmas as a true season of giving against the countervailing pressures of consumerism and understanding contemporary holiday celebrations as living symbols of post-modern capitalism, which is to say, how to steer your children away from visions of sugar plums and the Dora Magical Welcome House dollhouse set, blah blah blah - but when I sat down to write it my computer froze and I lost the four paragraphs that I managed to save to draft and, also, a small part of my spirit. And now I have no will to begin again. So.

Because of this episode of Monday Morning Suckage, you will have to make do, today, with my MamaPop post, which concerns the all-important question of why does everyone keep shitting on moms who tell the stories of their motherhood? (I'm really interested in your take on this, so please - drop your comments over there.)

Above: Children's lives being destroyed. Also pictured: shits, giggles.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Sunday Morning Music Show

Because Sunday morning is always better with music, and, also, without pants:

Labels: ,