A friend of mine was alarmed when her son came home from Field Day with a “Participant” ribbon. She was concerned because he’s an athletic kid. Competitive. Usually at the top of his class academically and athletically. She was pretty sure, as he climbed into her car and she spied the ribbon, that he’d be sullen. Sulky. Disappointed.
How was it? she asked tentatively.
It was good! he answered.
How were the games?
Great! I won the relay, my team won the tug of war and Scotty and I came in third in the balloon toss.
But…your ribbon.
Oh, yeah. Everyone gets these. They don’t do first, second, third ones anymore.
__________
When I was a little girl, I had two favorite Sunday morning cartoons and they were on back to back. I loved Sunday mornings.
8 am
9 am
Today, my kids request to watch either a giant purple dinosaur whose title song is “I Love You, You Love Me” or an overly enthusiastic black man dressed in an Orange jumpsuit who plays with small stuffed animals and hosts “Dancey Dance Time.”
Not quite the same.
My favorite song was this one…
Sweet, isn’t it?
Well, now they’ve gone and wrecked it for all of us. Apparently it’s either bad for kids because little Jackie Paper eventually croaks or it’s bad because it’s actually about…well, this.
No more Peter, Paul & Mary? Rumor has it, I’m supposed to be playing Kidz Bop in my car. Really? Really? Have you actually heard Kidz Bop?
Want your kids to listen to this?
Or, this?
I don’t know about you. But, I think I’d rather my kids turn out to be 1st place winning, Tom & Jerry giggling, little Beatles listeners than merely participating, purple dinosaur watching, Kidz Boppers.
But, maybe that’s just me.
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Just wondering what the thought process was behind the new McDonald’s frappé?
Not that I don’t understand why they’d make an icy creamy coffee drink in the summer? That, I get.
But, why in the world did they decided to call it the frappé? As in pronounce it “frap-pay“, preferably with a roll of your tongue and a tip of your beret.
Have you seen the ads?
Frappé. All Day.
Well, I suppose they found a way to make it rhyme.
Let’s assume they’re simply trying to fancy the place up a bit. Am I so dense as to actually feel better about myself when I order McDonald’s 4,392 calorie frap-PAY instead of the accent-less frappe at, say, Friendly’s?
Frappe rhymes with crap. Frap-PAY? French. Skinny. Ooooh. I’ll take three, please.
I can’t wait to see the reaction next time I walk into the Lynnway McDonald’s and order myself a six-piece McNuggéts and a Coké.
And, incidentally, I had never set foot in a Walmart until about eight months ago when I mentioned this sad fact to my friend, Mo. She looked at me like I had ten heads.
“Oh. my. god. woman. Go. Go now.”
And I did.
Thank you, Mo.
Anyhoo. I went today to buy poster board, a bunch of stickers and some size 3 boys underpants. Because I’m entering the wild n crazy world of potty training Little Brother. Or, in other words, I’m a prisoner in my house for the next three days — tightly clutching my Bounty, my Brawny and my fragile sanity. Little Brother is nothing if not an enthusiastic participant in the whole process. He’s all fired up about going on the potty like his “big brudder” and thus far makes a trip to the bathroom roughly every 3 point 2 seconds to try again. And again. And again.
Every fourth trip or so, we seem to produce a few drops and celebrate with hoots, happy dances and a new sticker on the chart.
No accidents thus far but seeing as he’s spent the majority of his morning in the can, the odds are with him.
So, yeah. Walmart. You guys know about the hilarious website dedicated to the people of Walmart? Well, now that Walmart and I are BFFs, I’ve been thinking the whole Walmart shopper stereotype is a bit unjust.
But then today I was browsing the sticker aisle when first I smelled (Is that Peach Boone’s?) then saw an older (ahem) gentleman to my right. He asked me if I worked at Walmart, which might have been a blow to my self-esteem, had he not slurred the words through a cracker-infested beard and peered at me through half-mast eyelids. I said no but pointed to an associate just down the aisle.
He stumbled a few feet towards the little lamb restocking shelves.
Heyyugshtanyvrdka?!
I’m sorry, sir. What can I help you with?
Shugitneevrdka?!
She looked at me helplessly. I shrugged. No idea. Sorry.
Vrdka?! Vrdka?! Ugitanyvrdka?!?
Oh, no sir. I’m sorry. We don’t sell vodka at Walmart.
I’m attending a baby shower in a few weeks and my cute, preggy friend registered for some items at Pottery Barn. So, I went online today and ordered her something adorable and, as usual, my purchase led Pottery Barn to recommend yet another item to me.
“People who bought your product, often buy this product…”
Tulip Wall Decals for $29.99
Create a cheerful garden of colorful flowers anywhere in the room with our exclusive peel-and-stick wall decals.
Decals are easy to apply and remove.
Created from original watercolor illustrations so each bloom is unique.
Set of 9 tulips.
Tulip height ranges from 18″ to 31.5″.
Internet / Retail only.
And, here they are (picture from the PB website):
Like ’em? Yeah? Me too, I guess.
Almost as much as I liked the work that Big Brother brought home from pre-school earlier this week.
Struggling with new and nutritious dinner items for your kids? Has your mealtime lost the “magic”? Kids lost interest in the same old – same old beef, chicken and pork products?
Well, search no further.
New! Innovative! And laced with green glitter!
It even comes complete with a small silver spoon for busy kids (and grown-ups) on the go!
So, I’ve recently learned that some nincompoop parents decided to sue the Baby Einstein company because they were angry that the videos did not, in fact, make their children smarter. And these idiots won. And now we lucky parents can walk right back into our local Walmart and return these “worthless” videos for a full refund. Are you kidding me?!
I get it that, yes, the company certainly should not make such claims if they are not going to be true in all cases. The parents who decide to drop their child down in front of Baby Einstein so that they can sneak a cigarette on the back porch, share a few extra vodkas with their spouse or catch the tail end of Judge Judy will be sadly disappointed when little Charlie doesn’t finish up his forty-two minutes with Baby Monet and head out to paint the next “Water Lillies.” So, I’ll give you that the company’s claims were baseless and that perhaps there are, sadly, thousands of parents out there foolish enough to really believe that they could cross “educate” off their childcare to-do list for the day with a video. The company should never have said such things as the videos alone clearly can not teach. And, I suppose, that makes it worthy of a lawsuit.
Sigh.
But those parents who actually remain in the same room with their child while they watch and actually talk about it now and then? I believe that those parents, more likely than not, do see that these videos can expand little minds even if just a bit. I absolutely love it that when my 2-year old hears classical music he smiles and says “Einstein!” So, he doesn’t recognize that it’s Bach versus Beethoven, he loves it. It makes him smile.
Big Brother picked up some sign language from Marlee Matalin on Baby Wordsworth. He gave me some giant belly laughs when we’d do “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” to Baby Da Vinci. I also got some of my best educational (yes, educational) toy ideas from these videos. Toys that were Will’s that have become Little Brother’s that they regularly play and enjoy together.
So, I’m pissed me off. It makes me crazy that Julie Clark now has to give back any portion of her multi-millions to these lazy-ass, lawsuit-toting morons who go after a company like Baby Einstein and call themselves good parents for doing so.
And, frankly, I hope Julie is sitting back in the palatial mansion she likely bought a few years ago (when a little, know-nothing company named Disney bought the majority stake in Baby Einstein) and laughing it all off.
Confessions of a Serial Swooper 
