Friday, October 30, 2009

Does Kim Possible in a Bikini Count as Porn?

Apparently there is a law in Texas, and there has been since the 1970s, that allows parents to show "harmful material" to their children. Why they had to actually draft a law about this issue is beyond me — I can understand if there was no law at all on the issue, but not a law in favor of it — but finally someone is challenging it.

It's a shame that it's because a Dallas mom who claims her ex-husband showed their young daughter some pornography, including "adults having group sex and various other acts" (and who knows what those "other acts" are).

Generally, and I'm speaking in hypothetical terms, I wouldn't want anyone, let alone my own kids, watching porn with me. I understand some guys like watching porn with their friends/dudes/homies/buds, but that sounds pretty gay to me. Going to a strip club for a bachelor party is one thing, but I'd categorize porn as, in the words of Woody Allen in Annie Hall, "sex with someone I love."

I never have time to watch anything but my kids' cartoons these days, so if I want to experience anything resembling titillation, I have to settle for:

Kim Possible...

Jenny XJ-9 (center) from My Life as a Teenage Robot...and, when I'm really desperate:

Sandy Cheeks.
Read more...

I Wish They'd Hold the Party at Chuck E. Cheese

The goody bags contain chicken pox and measles.

Also in the news...



Thursday, October 29, 2009

And His Blood Type Is Rocky Road!

Paul Rudnick is not a guy you want to tell your kids about, and not just because he wrote the screenplays for The Stepford WIves and Marci X. (Chris Rock told Entertainment Weekly that the script for the latter, which he turned down, was "the worst script I've ever gotten... I'd have been happier getting an envelope full of anthrax.")

The New York Times ran a little profile on Rudnick's very interesting and child-envying dietary habits.

Basically, he eats candy and snacks. And, he's 5-foot-10 and 150 pounds.

Granted, he's not pigging out on boxes of Twinkies and guzzling bottles of cola all day. According to the article:
A typical day was this: a plain bagel, a three-pack of Yodels, a small can of dry-roasted peanuts, some Hershey’s Kisses, and some breakfast cereal, which he eats by the handful, dry, out of the box.
According to a dietician quoted in the article, "Some people defy all odds." Just beware when your kid claims that he defies the odds.

Also in the news...




Wednesday, October 28, 2009

But If Her Parenting Goes Slower Than 55mph, She Explodes!

A custody battle is brewing between Jesse James, a guy who appears on TV shows I don't watch as well as an annoying T-Mobile commercial with a bunch of people I hate, including Chevy Chase and Whoopi Goldberg and Phil Jackson, and his ex-second-wife Janine Lindemulder, over their 5-year-old daughter, Sunny.

James is currently married to Sandra Bullock, star of those record-topping blockbusters All About Steve and The Net, and the two are now trying to gain full custody of James' daughter, now that Lindemulder, a member of the Adult Video News hall of fame who appeared on Blink-182's Enema of the State cover and in films like Maneater (not a Hall & Oates documentary — you'll learn that the hard way) is out of prison for tax evasion.

A recap in the Telegraph reports:
In a statement to court, James suggested Sunny may not be safe with his ex-wife, adding that she should be "restrained from allowing the child around pornographers, drug addicts, guns and firearms, felons and other unsafe environments."
Lindemulder can counter that if Sunny lived full-time with James and Bullock, the girl won't be around guns and firearms, but she will be exposed to Miss Congeniality 2: Armed & Fabulous.

Of course, when I see a headline like this:

...I see "battle" and "pornography actress" and all I can picture is a wrestling match with a high oil-or-mud-to-clothing ratio.

And it would be much better than Speed 2: Cruise Control, for sure.
Read more...

But People Without Kids Don't Deserve Better Than That?

I'm hoping this is a rebuttal to another article called "Parents and their kids who get retarded or drop dead from shots got what was coming to them!"

Also in the news...


  • PRODUCT ALERT: The Empire Strikes Back tauntaun sleeping bag was originally posted as a joke, but so many people wanted to crawl into the fleece-lined belly of this zippered beast, a la Luke Skywalker, that the manufacturer is now mass-producing them in time for the holidays.

  • Sasha, my little cherub, I apologize for my junks in advance: Mom's pelvic size linked to daughters' cancer risk later in life.

  • However, dear daughter, you do luck out on this front: Girls age, wrinkle like their mothers. My point? I got proofed buying a lottery ticket at 7-Eleven a few weeks ago -- BOOYAH!

  • Let's see -- Mondays 7am to 9am, Tuesdays 6pm to 7:30pm, don't even want to admit to what goes on on Sundays...yep, sounds about right: Kids ages 2 to 5 watch a staggering 32 hours of TV a week.

  • The allure of Rocky Road is a powerful, mysterious one: Missing boy, 8, found gorging on ice cream at local convenience store.

  • PRODUCT ALERT: Yeah, these are pretty frickin' adorable: Cutest baby Halloween costumes.

  • Note to self: Do not book Icelandic vacation if the kids are coming along: McDonald's shutters all three franchises in island republic.

  • I'm all for being authentic, but this ventures into the "tad creepy" category: Mom transforms home where two sons died into Halloween haunted house.

  • Being a good mom pretty much means you always have to feel like a crappy one -- at least that's this Salon writer's take on the whole mess.

  • Tell me you're surprised by this development and I'll treat you to a year's worth of Corn Pops: Top ten cereals marketed to kids not really that good for them after all.

  • Get on the waiting list now, all you finger-painting phenoms: School for gifted-only superkids opens in NYC.

  • Surprise, surprise: Stage parents generally have a screw loose.
  • Tuesday, October 27, 2009

    Does That Pol Pot Costume Come in Size 2T?

    We've written about writer/dad Joel Schwartzberg before. In a positive way, even!

    This time, Joel is taking on graphic/scary/violent Halloween costumes that are marketed to pre-teens and younger on a website called tooscarycostumes.com. Schwartzberg, an avid horror fan (anyone who gets taken to The Shining as a 12-year-old deserves a medal) offers his services, delivering a "compelling show & tell illustrating how both retailers and parents can better protect children from inappropriate Halloween costume marketing."

    I understand the concern, but I don't know if I'm all that bothered if a 7-year-old wants to dress up as something gory. Perhaps it depends on the context. Or the amount of blood, and the source of that blood. Or whether the 7-year-old wants to wear the costume all through November.

    I will grant Schwartzberg one point: that many of these costumes, some of which are made in size 4 (and not likely for midgets), are of characters from movies that these kids are too young to be watching anyway. Imagine the uproar if they made a Joe Camel costume.

    Schwartzberg cites the following offensive costumes:
    • Leatherface from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

    • Pinhead from Hellraiser

    • Jason from Friday the 13th

    • Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street

    • The Joker from The Dark Knight
    Curiously, he also mentions Mike Myers from Halloween, but when I hear "Mike Myers," I think of this:
    Mike Myers you suck

    ...and that really gives me nightmares!
    Read more...

    The Power of Swayze COMPELS You!

    What's the latest evil thing that we have to stamp out in our schools? To the list of drugs, teen pregnancy, violence, and fights between pregnant teens over drugs, we now add dirty dancing.

    To prevent sexually suggestive moves like "freaking" and "grinding" at their dances, schools have drafted "dance contracts" that forbid specific kinds of choreography, not to mention certain types of clothing that send the boys into dances like the pump, the meet-and-meat, and the fook. (Those last three dances I made up, but they sound like something the kids would do.)

    To monitor dancing, one school actually has instituted a teacher-run "freak patrol," which likely had a different meaning during the height of Rick James' fame.

    Also in the news...



    Monday, October 26, 2009

    Does This Constitution Forbid Cruel and Unusual Punishment?

    A pretty interesting parenting tool was inspired by an argument the author had with his 9-year-old son — on Mother's Day — that forced him to take a 12-mile hike to calm down. I'm sure you've been there.

    The author, Scott Gale, actually based this tool, called The Family Constitution, on his fantasy-football league constitution.

    The concept, creating a specific set of rules and regulations for the family, makes sense, particularly because, at least in my case, you'll find yourself in situations with the kids that are not exactly black and white and which make you go, "How do I handle this?

    But you'll see from the Gale family sample constitution, that even if you forgo the fancy lettering, a thorough document takes a bit of work.

    Also in the news...


    Friday, October 23, 2009

    I PARENT WITH ALL CAPS

    The New York Times, in its Fashion & Style section, no less, is calling shouting the new spanking.

    One particular anecdote sums up many of my days: a mother describes a long day spent doing things with her kids, and when, at the end of this long day, they start giving mom a hard time about going to bed, she finally snaps and yells, “This is ridiculous! I’ve been doing things all day for you!”

    This kind of scenario shortens my fuse the quickest: on a day when you feel like you've achieved a deeper-than-usual bond with your child, and you go out of your way to do extra-nice things for him, just because you feel like indulging him a bit, letting him have a piece of candy even though he's usually not allowed to, and then you let him stay up to watch an extra episode of The Backyardigans because you know how much he likes that show, and THEN, when you finally try to bring this part of the day to a close, he throws a shitfit about going to bed, and you feel like he's just given you the finger.

    The founder of a parenting school notes that because spanking has gone the way of castor oil, parents are frustrated:
    They resort to reminding, nagging, timeout, counting 1-2-3 and quickly realize that those strategies don’t work to change behavior. In the absence of tools that really work, they feel frustrated and angry and raise their voice. They feel guilty afterward, and the whole cycle begins again.
    The other day I took Jackson to the local Barnes & Noble. He was pretty well behaved, but a few times he ran off to the music section and pulled various Lego sets (weird enough that Barnes & Nobel sells Lego sets) off the shelves. Each time he strayed from the rules of acceptable behavior, I did the old counting method, and he returned to the realm of obedience before I reached the magic number of punishment.

    When we were on line paying for the final collection of Bob Books (which, incidentally, we heartily endorse), a woman probably around my mother's age commended me for my calm demeanor in the face of insubordination. I tried to tell her I used low-energy behavioral enforcement because I was exhausted, but she said that I still did a good job, and I was a bit proud of myself as a parent.

    Of course, I was yelling at him for something stupid he was doing an hour later.
    Read more...

    Also in the news...

    Thursday, October 22, 2009

    So When The Exorcist Comes On, I'll Leave the Room

    When your child is watching a particularly intense movie like, say, Where the Wild Things Are or the Paris Hilton video, your natural tendency is to sit right next to him or her and help the kid through the experience.

    But it turns out, according to a study discussed on MSNBC by a group of people including one very frightened-looking psychologist (pictured at right), that you're a sadist.

    The study, from Finland, a place that scares me just thinking about it, says that kids who watched TV with their parents were four times as scared as kids who watched the same crap by themselves.

    The reason might be that parents are likely making the situation worse by flinching or otherwise freaking out in anticipation of that killer hiding in the closet and the kids are feeding off their parents' reactions.

    The article includes this little chestnut so valuable and slap-my-forehead worthy that I'll quote it in full:
    [W]hen a child who's been sleeping alone wakes up frightened in the middle of the night and comes to the parents' bedroom crying, the temptation is to just comfort the child and maybe even to let him sleep in the parents' bed.

    But by hugging and cuddling the child, the parent positively reinforces the child's anxieties — and makes it less likely the child will get over the fears and be able to sleep alone. What you want to reward is bravery...that might mean giving the child a reward that depends on how many nights he sleeps alone without getting up in the middle of the night.
    Pretty strong stuff. It makes sense, but good luck following through on that when your kids is freaking out at 1am.

    The rest of the article is worth a read, particularly for its tips on how to deal with your kids' fears (hint: don't dwell on them; you're only making it worse). That is, if you're able to get past the zombie stare of that psychologist.

    Read more...

    And How Will It Affect the Home-Schooled?

    If you were to move to England, not only would you have to learn a new language and figure out how to drive on the wrong side of the road, but if your kid is too disruptive in school, you might have to pay a fine or even go to jail.

    So says new legislation proposed by Britain's Labor Labour party. Apparently, the schools are as out of hand as in the movie Lean on Me.

    A few things to consider. First, no kid is going to tell his parent that someone is disrupting his learning, because he'll be afraid that the offender will find out who ratted him out.

    Second, you're going to see a scenario where ever bad grade is blamed on some kid causing distractions, which will lead back to my first point:

    MOM: Why did you get an F in Math?
    KID: Uh...there were, uh, like, disruptions.
    MOM: By who? Who disrupted the class?
    KID: Some kid.
    MOM: What kid? What's his name?
    KID (afraid to get anyone in trouble, considering the bad grades were due to stupidity, not distractions): Uh...I don't know his name.
    MOM: You don't know the name of your own classmate?
    KID: He...uh...wasn't in my class. He ran into class and, like, disrupted us, then ran out. I didn't know his name.
    MOM: He runs into your class every single day?
    KID: Uh...I have to go to the bathroom?

    My favorite part is this: "Parents will be encouraged to make representations first to the school and then to an impartial ombudsman."

    I can only imagine how that meeting would go:
    ME: Yes. So, when you say Jackson was making [air-quotes] "farting noises" during the lesson on the War of Independence, I contend that he was exhaling and the sound was refracted by his hands accidentally. Also, consider that he might have been trying to make the sound of a drum, which I understand was used during the Revolutionary War along with a fife of some sort, a sound which, while arguably but not definitively disruptive, was an attempt to add some aural flavor to the discussion. Note, too, that Jackson might have really been farting. Is there a law against that? I'm about to fart right now...will you punish me, too? Isn't this why we fought for independence against the British, after all?
    Read more...

    Also in the news...


  • Before he was conjuring up hoaxes involving runaway balloons and kids hiding out in boxes in garage lofts, Richard Heene expended all his hot air on this home video -- encouraging kids to play in boxes.

  • Speaking of the Heenes (I know I pledged I would never utter that surname again, but fame-whoring analysis of deranged reality-TV-show "stars" has an allure I just can't resist), they're not the first family to pull one over on unsuspecting dupes like the rest of us. Indeed, plenty of con-artist kin have preceded these Wife Swap strumpets.

  • Aaaand finally -- the branding of Falcon Heene. T-shirts, mugs, keychains -- even an online video game (bonus: you get to shoot down Michael Moore).


  • CELEBRITY ALERT: The ultimate parent trap: Lindsay Lohan is rumored to have gone under the knife. Don't be too hard on her, though -- we suspect she's simply trying to conceal her identity from her dad, who has lovingly offered to kidnap her to straighten out the messed-up Mean Girl. On a related note, Michael Lohan appeared on Maury on Friday to express his anguish over the "hollow, hollow person" that he spawned. At least he wasn't there to dispute his paternity.

  • Think it's OK to raise a mama's boy? Meet Luca.


  • CELEBRITY ALERT: I hate myself for using up bandwidth space for this, but here it is: Real Housewives star Bethenny Frankel is with child. Get the Peg Perego ready!

  • My kids can thank me and my food aversions once again for their superior intelligence: Study shows that excessive amounts of glycyrrhizin (that's the stuff you'll find in licorice) during pregnancy can adversely affect child's IQ.

  • I'm looking forward to the holidays this year, especially now that my kids are old enough to start watching some of the Christmas classics I grew up with -- Frosty the Snowman, Christmas Vacation, The Year Without a Santa Claus. Rudolph is making his rounds a little early, though, this year. First stop: some lady's pork chop.


  • Gourd-ian not: If you're lame, like a certain Inside Voice blogger I know, and have either never carved a pumpkin or have had to rely on one of those cookie-cutter kits from Target to summon up jack-0'-lantern genius, then this Kotaku gallery will surely shame you as it has me.

  • Please don't send her to the tannery: "Cowhide" girl proves to be a modern medical mystery.


  • That's a lot of special sauce: Man puts record-breaking collection of Happy Meal toys, gathered since the 1980s, on online auction site; doesn't get a single bid.

  • WTF, DAD! Spliff baby: Man arrested after infant in his care found to be under the influence of marijuana.
  • Wednesday, October 21, 2009

    And I Hated Parenthood

    Yet another film that insults real parents everywhere is about to be foisted on us like partially digested strained peas.

    LOOK at Uma Thurman's messed-up yet still fashionable hair! SEE the glasses that supposedly shout "serious" and "frumpy" but are actually very stylish! ENVY Uma's life in the leafy West Village! ADMIRE her work as both a mom AND (*gasp*) a parenting blogger!

    READ insightful reviews from critics such as MSNBC's Alonso Duralde — "Even the working mothers I spoke with after the press screening found both the [Uma's] character and the film to be odious" — and Variety's Rob Nelson: "a would-be comedic script by director Katherine Dieckmann...forces the star to spout such geysers of self-pity, you'd think motherhood in the West Village was akin to, say, motherhood in Eastern Congo."

    Oh, and Uma's blog is called "The Bjorn Identity." Feel free to spit up your own strained peas now. Read more...

    Also in the news...


    Tuesday, October 20, 2009

    Proof That My Eyesight and Brain Are Going

    I made two mistakes when I saw this article.

    First, I thought the headline said "wooden spoon snack," not smack, so I was trying to figure out how this woman served up a spoon as a treat. Simply on a plate? Enclosed in a long roll? Hidden in three or four Twinkies laid end-to-end? And did the kid bite into the spoon right away?

    THEN I read the first sentence and I thought maybe I was reading a description of a Dickens novel, wondering what the Victorian era had to do with an article on parenting. (In those days, a whack with wooden flatware was likely a reward for good behavior.)

    As for the story, it's the second incident in that part of Australia where a parent's been arrested for cracking a kid with a wooden spoon; the first of which caused a lot of controversy in the country/continent. In that case, the prime minister weighed in, saying he approved of physical punishment, though there's no mention of which kind of weapon he preferred.

    I always thought a fork would be better as a spanking tool — less air drag than a spoon.

    My parents, like most people in the 1970s, used to have that decorative but useless set of giant wooden fork and spoon that hung on the wall in case Paul Bunyan dropped by to toss a salad, and back then, my brother and I were always worried about getting spanked with that spoon!
    Read more...

    Party Like It's 1939

    Halloween's right around the corner. Maybe you're feeling guilty for the pagan overtones inherent to the holiday. Or perhaps you're simply desperate to steer your kids away from the neighborhood TP/egg/shaving cream shenanigans that seem to have supplanted good old-fashioned trick-or-treating.

    Have we got some wholesome fundamentalist fun for you -- you just have to purchase your own one-way ticket to this North Carolina church. Oh, and bring a few books and CDs to burn. Especially Bibles (not the King James version -- he's OK). And records by Christian musicians.

    None of this makes any sense, but I'll roll with it. I'm considering the trip, if only for a change of scenery -- here on Long Island, we just like to burn boats.

    Also in the news...

    Monday, October 19, 2009

    And Kids Will Never Learn Where Omelettes Come From

    The BBC valiantly tried to protect its young listeners from the hard cold facts regarding Death and Eggs by changing the ending of "Humpty Dumpty" into a happy one.

    Naturally, now the BBC has egg on its face. (See how I did that one there?)

    The revised line has all the king's horses and men "making Humpty happy again." Assuming Humpty was ever happy in the first place.

    Kids are definitely more sheltered these days, and many classic fairy tales have always been, well, kinda creepy and violent and weird. After all, we're familiar with tales from the Grimm brothers, not stories from the Happyoptimist Sisters.

    Jackson has some book about the chicken who thinks the sky is falling, and she convinces a number of barnyard friends of this emergency, and they follow a fox to their doom. In the version Jackson has, Chicken-Licken escapes, while her friends become lunch. And I'm never very comfortable reading this story, though Jackson never seems very uncomfortable about the circumstances; he does request it, after all.

    Today, while Sasha napped, Jackson and Jenn and I watched The Wizard of Oz for (Jackson's) first time. He appeared to enjoy the film, though I thought he might have been a bit too young. (Then again, he had no trouble with Where the Wild Things Are, which has been the subject of a "How old should my kid be to see this film?" debate.)

    That being said, I was made uneasy by parts of the film I'd taken for granted. I mean, a house lands on top of someone (a witch, granted, but still) and all we see are the legs sticking out and little people and a "good" witch speaking in a voice that people stopped using after the 1940s cheering Dorothy because the (bad) witch is dead. Dead! Hooray! They even sing a song about it — maybe you've heard it.

    Later, when the other (bad) witch is (again, accidentally) killed, her own servants are like, "You've killed her. Thank you! Thank you for killing this person."

    Which is why, even though I let the kids watch (some of) the old Bugs Bunny cartoons I still enjoy, and even though I agree with the Member of Parliament who complains that the nursery rhyme shouldn't have been altered, I'm a little wary of what he said next:
    "Thirty- and 40-year-olds need to stop telling three-year-olds what to think. Let them see gory and violent cartoons and let them be children."
    Because nothing says "let 3-year-olds be children" like letting them watch "gory and violent" cartoons.

    Next up for the kids: Heavy Metal. Read more...

    Also in the news...



    Friday, October 16, 2009

    Is There a Risk of Sudden Parent Death Syndrome?

    "Bedsharing is a risk for cot death." So says the Guardian, quoting the British Department of Health.

    Why would you put a baby in a cot? Apparently, in the UK, land of lorries and mums, "cot" means "crib." In the United States, where we supposedly speak a very similar language, a cot is one of those narrow flat raised bed contraptions you sleep on in an Army tent, so "cot death" to me would mean that some corporal rolled over onto his bayonet during a bad dream.

    But anyway. This is another article that dispenses advice (sharing a bed with your baby is bad) that contradicts itself later (the data isn't necessarily accurate) and then comes back around again (but you shouldn't share a bed with your baby anyway.)

    In my experience, I was worried about rolling over onto my kids when they were so small, but for the first couple of months of Sasha's life, she slept on my chest on the sofa — which the article says is even WORSE than a bed — but I was able to lay still enough and in a position so neither of us moved. The worst part was waking for a feeding and finding my chest all sweaty from having an 8-to-12-pound burrito on top of me.

    The article doesn't address the real problem, SIDS risk aside, when the kids are older, like 3 and 5, and they both want to share your bed (the ironic [?] thing is that the one time we actually had a bedsharing problem was shortly before Jackson's 5th birthday, when he came into our bed and I moved to the couch and he accidentally rolled off the bed in the early morning, requiring an ambulance trip to the hospital as a precaution — good times!), so the article was actually a complete waste of time.

    On the other hand, the article didn't say "mum" even once.

    (The person responsible for that Anne-Geddes-in-hell cake can be found here.)

    Read more...

    "Who Wants a Flower? Who Wants a Slice of Face?"

    Let's revisit the image I swiped to illustrate the previous post.

    I mean, on one hand it's a rather accurate, if license-violating, reproduction of an iconic but in my mind still weird Anne Geddes photo. You have to admire the cake-decorating skills of someone who can create such confectionery concoctions.

    On the other hand...it's a cake. With a baby. Not some abstract or cartoon scrawl of a baby face with a thin icing pen, but a realistic-looking BABY. Granted, the baby's limbs are missing; perhaps they contracted inside its body, like a turtle.

    But someone has to cut that cake — carve into that sleeping infant — and distribute its pieces to a ravenous crowd. Maybe you'll get some nose and upper lip, or you'll be lucky enough to get the sleeping eyes, or that cute chin on your paper plate!

    The creator notes:
    The sign in the back says "with butterfly kisses and a ladybug hug, sleep tight little one like a bug in a rug."
    Sleep tight, like a bug in a rug, so you won't see the wife with the knife!

    She adds that the cake was "a hit" at a friend's baby shower, and I'll assume that the cake was served over a pentagram before the other sacrifices took place!
    Read more...

    Also in the news...


    • But will he get grounded (sorry, couldn't resist): This was the only logical outcome we could have expected from a couple of wacky stormchasers who appeared on Wife Swap: Boy untethers family's "experimental aircraft," sets off nationwide hysteria as FAA tries to safely bring the aircraft (and, presumably, its 6-year-old stowaway) down, goes missing after balloon crashes, finally discovered hiding in parents' garage the whole time.
    • OK, Balloon Boy really stole the thunder from these guys.
    • CELEBRITY ALERT: Jermaine's penning the theme song, Joe's drawing up the contracts for seasons two through seven, and LaToya's prepping for her costarring turn as the crazy-but-lovable aunt next door. Tito? We don't know what the hell Tito's doing: Michael Jackson's kids rumored to star in reality show.
    • CELEBRITY ALERT: One cherub who won't be sporting the slutty Nemo costume referenced above: Tina Fey's daughter.

    Thursday, October 15, 2009

    Or, Say That Giant "Wild Things" Will Eat Them If They Don't Behave

    The New York Times' Motherlode blog mentions one Dr. Anthony Rao, who uses Where the Wild Things Are as a parenting guide in his book, The Way of Boys. This paragraph (from the blog, not the book, though there is an excerpt on the blog) could be talking about our our son:
    Rao thinks that society has forgotten what “normal boy behavior” is. He spends much of his clinical time, and most of his book, explaining to parents what is going on in the heads of little boys, answering questions like: Why is he breaking everything? Why doesn’t he make eye contact? Why does he squirm endlessly? Why doesn’t he have friends yet? Yes, problems like ADHD and Aspergers are real, he believes, but often overdiagnosed in boys who are just being boys.
    Fortunately, Jackson was able to make friends, but he did run into some conflicts with his preschool/daycare teachers for antics that to us sounded like typical 3- or 4-year-old behavior.

    I never went to daycare, or even preschool, so I pretty much ran wild until kindergarten. I have no idea how I would have handled the structured environment as a 3-year-old, having to sit in a circle for 20 minutes or so like the kids have to every day.

    This first couple of times I took Jackson to birthday parties for his peers — and let's note that 4-year-old parties, back when I was 4, took place in someone's yard or basement, not at a Pump It Up or gymnastics joint or some other rented-out facility — I'd get embarrassed because he wouldn't line up or sit in a circle like (almost) all the other kids would, when asked to by the unnaturally loud teenage girls running the party who I'd sometimes stare at just to get me through the one-hour party hell of screaming children prior to the half-hour of pizza meal and birthday cake.

    Then I realized, who was I embarrassed for? As long as he wasn't disrupting anyone or breaking anything, who cares? He had a good time, and the birthday boy/girl didn't give a shit, either.

    But I digress. The excerpt, titled "When Time-Outs Don’t Work" is worth a read. Especially because in my house, time-outs often don't work.
    Read more...

    You Are (Thus Far) NOT the Father!

    Congratulations to my fourth-favorite Point Break cast member! Keanu Reeves took a DNA test, and unlike Jude Law, he passed!

    The news that Bill/Neo didn't father some lady's kid is surprising on two counts. First, I (and 361,000 Google results) had always wondered whether he was actually gay. And second, the child in question was born not in 2008, not 1998, but 1988.

    The mother, Karen Sala, who is nothing if not tenacious, is looking for retroactive child support of $150,000 a month which, even if Keanu really was the dad, sounds a bit excessive, unless you were swaddling the baby in 500-thread-count disposable diapers and ate strained peas prepared cribside by Jamie Oliver.

    Sala refuses to believe the DNA test. Why start listening to logic now? Even better than the results of the test is this statement from Camp Keanu: "Reeves maintains that he has never met Sala." Oof.

    I sorta feel sorry for the child, who is legally not a child anymore. (I guess you're always someone's child, but you know what I mean.) Imagine going through life believing that Keanu Reeves was your dad. By the time you were in your mid-teens, we'd be midway through the Matrix trilogy and all your female friends would be swooning for the guy who (according to your mom) was your dad. If you were male, you'd find it weird that all your friends wanted to sleep with your dad; if you were female, you'd have to stop yourself from swooning over your own dad!

    And now, after all these years, it appears that Keanu Reeves is not (except according to your mother, who by this point you've assumed to be a little weird about her Keanu fixation) your dad after all. Could it get any worse?

    Yes it can. Unbowed by the cold genetic facts of the DNA test, your mom has a revelation: "I was mistaken all along!" she says, laughing that laugh that makes you reach for a blunt instrument, just in case, "I remember now who your father really is! It's...it's...

    "Alex Winter!"
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