You know, there are some Christmas songs I just can't abide. Hopefully, that doesn't make me a Scrooge, but you know there are a few that you turn off as quickly as they come on the radio. Here are my top 3 Christmas songs to avoid:
3. "Do you Hear What I Hear?" I'm with the song until we get to the part where "a child, a child..shivers in the cold...let us bring him silver and gold..." How about a blanket? Not only does the tune irritate me, but the lyrics--both the repetition of them and the stupidity of that line in particular make me cringe.
2. "The Christmas Shoes" Good heavens, this song is depressing. The only reason it's not number one is that I'll at least give them a little credit for the redemption of the narrator of the song. Still, grungy boy buying shoes for his dying mama on Christmas Eve? That makes the middle part of It's a Wonderful Life look cheerful.
1. "Same Old Lang Syne" Please explain to me the popularity of this song. Let's run into an old lover who's NOT married happily and have a six pack of beer in a parking lot on Christmas Eve. Ugh. Way to bring down my Christmas cheer, Dan Fogelberg. Pandora, don't you even think about throwing that one in with all of my Big Band/New Orleans Christmas music!
So, what about you? Any songs you'd like to ban? Oh, and be sure to tune in tomorrow for my faves.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
This Week's Reason my House Isn't Clean: Haint Misbehavin'
Okay, so actually this is last week's reason my house isn't clean, but I'm always happy to share books that reel me in and distract me from cleaning. (See my last entry on The Front Porch Prophet, another excellent book.)
I just finished Haint Misbehavin' by Maureen Hardegree, a YA novel from Bell Bridge books. Have a teen or tween who's interested in what might happen if a girl inherited a ghost along with her menstrual cycle? This is the book for you. Like a good read about a middle child who can't seem to get anything right? This book might be better than therapy--and it would definitely be cheaper.
Hardegree has an easy to like protagonist, Heather, and she captures the awkwardness of being a teenager so well, I winced a few times in memory. My favorite part of the story, though, revolves around the ghost herself. At first, Heather can't figure out why Amy, the ghost, is hanging around. Over the course of the novel, though, she grows up enough to focus more on helping Amy than on the pain Amy's drama causes her--and that part of the mystery is so much fun to unravel.
Hardegree also leaves the book open for potential future stories, and I really love the two male characters: the dreamy lifeguard Heather lusts after and the loyal geek who lusts after her. I left the book wanting Xavier to have his day, but I'll just have to wait until Book 2 in the Ghost Handler series to see if he has any luck.
If you, a teen, or a tween are looking for a good read, be sure to check out Haint Misbehavin'. Oh, and as always, you have my leave to ignore dusting, dishes, and laundry to just enjoy.
I just finished Haint Misbehavin' by Maureen Hardegree, a YA novel from Bell Bridge books. Have a teen or tween who's interested in what might happen if a girl inherited a ghost along with her menstrual cycle? This is the book for you. Like a good read about a middle child who can't seem to get anything right? This book might be better than therapy--and it would definitely be cheaper.
Hardegree has an easy to like protagonist, Heather, and she captures the awkwardness of being a teenager so well, I winced a few times in memory. My favorite part of the story, though, revolves around the ghost herself. At first, Heather can't figure out why Amy, the ghost, is hanging around. Over the course of the novel, though, she grows up enough to focus more on helping Amy than on the pain Amy's drama causes her--and that part of the mystery is so much fun to unravel.
Hardegree also leaves the book open for potential future stories, and I really love the two male characters: the dreamy lifeguard Heather lusts after and the loyal geek who lusts after her. I left the book wanting Xavier to have his day, but I'll just have to wait until Book 2 in the Ghost Handler series to see if he has any luck.
If you, a teen, or a tween are looking for a good read, be sure to check out Haint Misbehavin'. Oh, and as always, you have my leave to ignore dusting, dishes, and laundry to just enjoy.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
She-Ra
Today's selection of child entertainment is She-Ra. I've learned a few things from watching this show so many years after I watched it as a child:
1. Girl Power still rocks!
2. 80s cartoons required weird characters to undercut any possible serious undertones.
3. The toys are still cool.
4. The entrance music isn't as offensive as I thought it would be. Here, take a look for yourself:
She-Ra opening theme
What about you? Any particular cartoons or toys that you want to make a point of sharing with your kids?
1. Girl Power still rocks!
2. 80s cartoons required weird characters to undercut any possible serious undertones.
3. The toys are still cool.
4. The entrance music isn't as offensive as I thought it would be. Here, take a look for yourself:
She-Ra opening theme
What about you? Any particular cartoons or toys that you want to make a point of sharing with your kids?
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Her Majesty's Treatise on Bears
This all started with the song Lorelai was singing on the way home from preschool, a song in a Native American tongue that I have yet to identify. I swear I have to start tape recording these car conversations:
Lorelai sings her song
[pause]
Lorelai: I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.
Mom: You need to be careful because the bear might eat you.
Lorelai: Do you want to eat a bear?
Mom: No, they’re probably tough and all gristle.
Lorelai: Indians ate the whole bear and the gristly skin.
Mom: Yes, Indians believed in using every part of any animal that they caught.
[pause]
Lorelai: But you can’t eat bears.
Mom: That’s right
Lorelai: Because they will eat you.
Mom: They might. It’d be a good idea to stay out of any bear’s way.
[pause]
Lorelai: And bears will scratch you with their sharp fingernails.
Mom: Claws?
Lorelai: Yes, bears have sharp claws, and they will scratch you. Or eat you. Or maybe scratch you.
[pause]
Lorelai: Some bears are mean.
Mom: Just some bears?
Lorelai: [deliberates] No, all bears are mean.
Mom: Okay, all bears are mean.
Lorelai: Except gummy bears. Gummy bears are nice.
Mom: Okay, all bears are mean except Gummy bears.
Lorelai: Some bears live in the jungle.
Mom: Do all bears live in the jungle?
Lorelai: Noooooo! Yes, all bears live in the jungle.
Mom: What about polar bears?
Lorelai: [decides to ignore that exception to her blanket proclamation] But bears will eat you if you try to eat them first!
Mom: [Noncommittal agreement noise]
Lorelai: Can we go to Chick-fil-a?
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The Front Porch Prophet, or This Week's Reason My House Isn't Clean
I've noticed an interesting trend: every time I get close to getting the house under control, a book grabs my interest to the point that I sit, read, and ignore the filth. Therefore, I will start a new award for the book of the week that distracts me the best.
Last week, the "offending" book was The Front Porch Prophet by Raymond Atkins. I took a class with Ray while getting my masters and greatly enjoyed the novel he was workshoping: Camp Redemption. It came as no surprise that The Front Porch Prophet was just as enjoyable if not more so. So here's the premise: A.J. Longstreet struggles to take care of his childhood friend, Eugene Purdue, after Eugene reveals he is dying of pancreatic cancer. I know this premise does not sound funny, but I promise you I laughed out loud more times than you can count. In the great southern tradition, The Front Porch Prophet finds humor and poignancy in the vicissitudes of life and the odd assortment of characters that endure them. Atkins tells the story with all of the wonderfully entertaining digressions one would expect from a Front Porch Prophet, and the story contains several surprises I wouldn't dream of revealing here. This is southern fiction at its best.
So, ignore the dishes in the sink and laundry on the couch. I personally give you permission to sit and read The Front Porch Prophet because it will be good for your soul. I promise, the mess isn't going anywhere
Last week, the "offending" book was The Front Porch Prophet by Raymond Atkins. I took a class with Ray while getting my masters and greatly enjoyed the novel he was workshoping: Camp Redemption. It came as no surprise that The Front Porch Prophet was just as enjoyable if not more so. So here's the premise: A.J. Longstreet struggles to take care of his childhood friend, Eugene Purdue, after Eugene reveals he is dying of pancreatic cancer. I know this premise does not sound funny, but I promise you I laughed out loud more times than you can count. In the great southern tradition, The Front Porch Prophet finds humor and poignancy in the vicissitudes of life and the odd assortment of characters that endure them. Atkins tells the story with all of the wonderfully entertaining digressions one would expect from a Front Porch Prophet, and the story contains several surprises I wouldn't dream of revealing here. This is southern fiction at its best.
So, ignore the dishes in the sink and laundry on the couch. I personally give you permission to sit and read The Front Porch Prophet because it will be good for your soul. I promise, the mess isn't going anywhere
Monday, November 15, 2010
Monday's moment of truth...and a story!
So today I weigh 154 pounds. I'm still trying to figure this one out because I had lost a pound as of Friday, a hard fought victory. Two meals out in Knoxville--one of them a salad--and I'm up 2 pounds? Grr. To make matters more embarrassing, you gotta hear what happened yesterday.
Okay, so I have two pair of jeans that mostly fit, and now both of them are tight. When we got home from the road, I draped the jeans over the side of the hamper and found a pair of pajama pants to wear until it was time to meet the girls for a dinner out. I had put my driver's license and credit cards in the back pocket, so when I put the jeans back on to go out, I didn't think to get my purse or anything. Everything was in my back pocket, right? Wrong.
After supper, I reach back for my credit cards, and I don't have them. I had to bum money off a friend as well as contemplate a hundred different scenarios of stopping both credit cards and going to the DMV for a new license. I rushed home and there were the credit cards in the hamper where they had slid out of my pocket when I draped the jeans over the side of the hamper.
And the moral of the story? If I hadn't allowed my weight to get out of hand, I would not have felt the need to take off my pants and thus would not have been embarrassed in front of a group of new friends. Even worse? That was the pair of pants that wouldn't stay up a year and a half ago. *sigh*
Oh, well. Back to the drawing board with salads and egg white sandwiches. I started lifting weights again in the gym and put in an extra 10 minutes of cardio while chatting with some of my lady friends who are trying to talk me into Monday morning yoga. If I can just stay out of the Halloween candy, I think that would be an excellent start!
Okay, so I have two pair of jeans that mostly fit, and now both of them are tight. When we got home from the road, I draped the jeans over the side of the hamper and found a pair of pajama pants to wear until it was time to meet the girls for a dinner out. I had put my driver's license and credit cards in the back pocket, so when I put the jeans back on to go out, I didn't think to get my purse or anything. Everything was in my back pocket, right? Wrong.
After supper, I reach back for my credit cards, and I don't have them. I had to bum money off a friend as well as contemplate a hundred different scenarios of stopping both credit cards and going to the DMV for a new license. I rushed home and there were the credit cards in the hamper where they had slid out of my pocket when I draped the jeans over the side of the hamper.
And the moral of the story? If I hadn't allowed my weight to get out of hand, I would not have felt the need to take off my pants and thus would not have been embarrassed in front of a group of new friends. Even worse? That was the pair of pants that wouldn't stay up a year and a half ago. *sigh*
Oh, well. Back to the drawing board with salads and egg white sandwiches. I started lifting weights again in the gym and put in an extra 10 minutes of cardio while chatting with some of my lady friends who are trying to talk me into Monday morning yoga. If I can just stay out of the Halloween candy, I think that would be an excellent start!
Friday, November 12, 2010
Another Revelation
Okay, here's a post for all of the relatively new mothers out there. Do you ever feel as though you can't go to the bathroom by yourself? No, I'm not talking about when you go to a public place and take a friend just so you can have someone to entertain you while you wait in an insanely long line. I'm talking about within the privacy of your own home.
It occurred to me earlier today that we have brought this phenomenon upon ourselves.
First, we put great emphasis on potty-training--and for obvious reasons. We join our progeny in the bathroom and wait for things to happen, then cheer when things come to pass, or look sternly upon mishaps. When the kiddies are young, they have to join us in the stalls of public restrooms because we are afraid someone will snatch them. Is it any wonder they think they should always join us? Even if we indicate we might like some alone time.
Like so many other things, though, we will have our sweet revenge when they become teenagers. By that time, we'll be used to the company, and we will follow them around often speaking through doors closed in our faces. Not only that, but we will have finally overcome embarrassment, conquered it after being sprayed by ever bodily fluid known to man, after having a child scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs in a crowded store, after escorting a toddler back into a store with an item he has pilfered. Yes, just as our teenage children reach the point that everything embarrasses them, we will have reached a point where almost nothing embarrasses us.
And that, I believe, is poetic jusice. Or at least the great circle of communal pottying.
It occurred to me earlier today that we have brought this phenomenon upon ourselves.
First, we put great emphasis on potty-training--and for obvious reasons. We join our progeny in the bathroom and wait for things to happen, then cheer when things come to pass, or look sternly upon mishaps. When the kiddies are young, they have to join us in the stalls of public restrooms because we are afraid someone will snatch them. Is it any wonder they think they should always join us? Even if we indicate we might like some alone time.
Like so many other things, though, we will have our sweet revenge when they become teenagers. By that time, we'll be used to the company, and we will follow them around often speaking through doors closed in our faces. Not only that, but we will have finally overcome embarrassment, conquered it after being sprayed by ever bodily fluid known to man, after having a child scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs in a crowded store, after escorting a toddler back into a store with an item he has pilfered. Yes, just as our teenage children reach the point that everything embarrasses them, we will have reached a point where almost nothing embarrasses us.
And that, I believe, is poetic jusice. Or at least the great circle of communal pottying.
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