Month: November 2007

thanksgiving whine

Posted on November 20, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i like writing about books and music as much as the next gal, but gee whiz! some people are wondering about me, the chick behind the curtain! why, i haven’t whined (publicly) in a least a week – what gives!? thus, here’s some whine and cheese for good measure.

when we last left our heroine, she was sick. guess what? i’m sick again. yes, the magic of my condition is such that i pick up every. single. bug. there. is. so a big-n-hearty ~~fuck you!~~ thank you to anyone who lets their kid hit school or daycare with serious stuff (and no, i don’t mean things like runny noses. if we all kept out of circulation when we had colds, no one would ever see daylight.) people like me are thrilled beyond belief that your child and mine will touch and i will be the happy recipient of your child’s generosity.

hey, while you’re at it — can you manage to not vaccinate your children, too? i really can’t wait to see how my immune system hacks it when your measles, mumps, or rubella-laden kid shares her joy with me. (and all because you read some bullshit on the internet about MMR shots causing autism. which they don’t, by the way.) see, i’ve been vaccinated, but as we’ve found from all the testing done on me, i’m not only bionic, i also don’t have very good resistance to things, even when i’m vaccinated. it’s all about my immune system. smallpox? nearly killed me when i was 6 months old, but hell — bring. it. on. just because you’re a selfish fuckwit who refuses to vaccinate.

if you can’t tell, miss crankypants is just a little bitter today. but i’ll lighten things up with things for which i am thankful.

1) the comb that i accidentally flushed down the toilet last week? you know, the one i never actually wrote about because i was too busy talking about books? well, i’m not exactly thankful for THAT, but i am thankful for the plumber who came out and told me that the very worst thing that would happen would be that i’d need to replace the toilet. see, BS painted pictures of lawns being pulled up. pipes being dredged. college funds following said comb. it was an ugly, ugly time. when i told the plumber about BS’s nightmarish scenario, he laughed and told me that i should tell BS that the tree people would be there next week to start pulling up the trees. obviously, he doesn’t realize that BS’s sense of humor had followed the comb down.

2) i’m thankful my house did not blow up kablooey last week after i had to clean the dryer out with Goo Gone, something i had to do once before. once again, a certain someone left cinnamon gum in her clothing. i knew it wasn’t Miss Scarlet with a lead pipe in the library. using my incredible, supergenius-mom powers of deduction, i know a few things: 1) BS doesn’t chew gum; 2) i hate cinnamon gum; and 3) jools has no earthly way of getting his hands on any gum. BC strikes again. i couldn’t get all the gum out with simple elbow grease, so i called in the tangy orange flammable joy that is the Goo Gone. it works, but i was afraid to use my dryer for days. i rationalized that i was doing the earth a favor by hanging my laundry up to dry. which, hopefully, balanced out the toxic, orange fumes i unleashed upon the earth.

but you know, after wearing stiff jeans one day too long, i got a bit antsy. i did what any other red-blooded, passive-aggressive person would do: i waited until BS had laundry to do. i informed him, of course, of the dryer’s status. (if he gets all blown up, then i end up a single mom. there’s no way on Dog’s Green Earth that he’s getting off that easy.) he told me he would gladly try things out once i took some dishwashing liquid and scrubbed the dryer’s inside. which i did. and the rest, as they say, is history.

which fortunately, i can add, is not our status.

3) good things come in threes. and i’m here to report that jools has decided to act like a camel, which would be really useful if i could ride him up I-95, gasoline being as expensive as it is these days. unfortunately, he has decided to be the less-than-nice part of being a camel: he has decided to spit at people when they piss him off. i’m not entirely sure where this comes from: no one in our family spits. in fact, he has heard me several times railing against the no-class bubbas who spit and who probably had the wrong end smacked at birth. but mr. man has decided to spit at his classmates, a major bozo no-no from every angle. so, to bring things full circle, i am thankful that my boy has had all of his shots!

yes, you and your child may end up sharing this lovely snotty, coughing thing that we all have around here. but you can rest assured that my son’s spit will not result in your contracting polio.

which is probably a lot more than i can say about my risk around you and yours.

junie b jones by barbara park

Posted on November 20, 2007 by wrekehavoc

pity poor junie b. jones.

the scrappy heroine of many, many books about her hapless adventures in kindergarten and first grade, she has been reviled by plenty of elementary school teachers, who ban her from classrooms because she commits a sin so heinous, she might cripple your child:

she speaks like an honest-to-G-d kid.

some teachers and parents fear that if your kid reads junie b., her english and her grammar will be ruined for years to come. (i know mine has.)

honestly, though, as a writer, i adore junie b.’s voice. park has captured the diction and attitude of a girl-of-a-certain-age to perfection. and as a parent, i adore the fact that her stories are soooo funny, soooo engaging, that BC actually wanted to read. we’ve listened to a bunch of these on tape during car trips, and i’m here to tell you that even BS got wrapped up in the plots. i never, ever understand why people are so frightened by a book. yes, books are very, very powerful instruments. banishing them does no one any good.

in spite of 1st grade teachers discouraging their students from reading from this series, don’t worry about barbara park. i’m sure she’s crying all the way to the bank.

i’m still waiting for junie b to end up as a float in the macy’s t-day parade.

Junie B. Jones’s First Boxed Set Ever! (Books 1-4)

Junie B. Jones’s Second Boxed Set Ever! (Junie B. Jones)

Junie B. Jones’s Third Boxed Set Ever! (Books 9-12)

Junie B. Jones’ Fourth Boxed Set Ever! (Junie B. Jones)

the best/worst christmas pageant ever

Posted on November 19, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i know, i know. what’s a nice jewish girl like me reading a book like this to her kids?

barbara robinson penned this classic way back in 1972. since then, she has written two more in the series about the six awful Herdman children and how they disrupt life among not just the kids but the entire small-town Ohio community. the Herdmans steal. the Herdmans threaten. the Herdmans are terrible to their insane cat. the Herdmans, left to their own devices by an absentee mother (who chooses to work two shifts at her job, and most of the parents cannot blame her), manage to set fire to things, shut down events, and even paint poor little Howard’s head.

it sounds tragic. but it’s a hoot!

robinson has a dry wit that permeates every bit of this book. you have the bored children, who could care less about the pageant. you have the narrator’s beleagured mother, who gets roped into heading up the pageant this year after the Queen Bee Mother Who Runs Everything (and you moms out there know exactly the type i’m talking about) gets hospitalized. and, of course, you have the Herdmans — six over-the-top children who have never stepped foot inside a church and who, through the oddest of circumstances, end up playing all the lead roles.

if you are looking for a book that de-commercializes christmas in a humorous, lighthearted, but incredibly meaningful way, this is it. this is the literary accompaniment to linus van pelt’s speech in A Charlie Brown Christmas. i’m not even christian, but i can appreciate that. and this is all delivered in a non-preachy, frankly hysterical way that appeals to adults and kids alike.

(BC is still running around the house, proclaiming: HEY! Unto YOU a child is BORN! read the book, and you’ll find out why.)

hey ms. robinson — there are a lot more school holidays. PLEASE write more about the Herdmans!!!!!

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

The Best School Year Ever

The Best Halloween Ever

happy birthday to you by dr. seuss

Posted on November 18, 2007 by wrekehavoc

::amazing guitar intro:: you say it’s your birthday?

it’s BS’S Birthday too, yeah!

and while it’s not strictly a tween girl book by any stretch, i thought i’d write today about one of my favorite (and jools’ favorite) seuss books, Happy Birthday To You! i think this one gets overlooked a bit — i mean, it’s hard to compete with the classics, and lord knows ted wrote his fair share of amazingly enduring reads.

in short, this book reminds you that you’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and, gosh darn it, people LIKE you! because, as ted wisely writes:

If you’d never been born, well what would you do? If you’d never been born, well what would you be? Why, you might be a WASN’T.

i love this book because it works for kids, it works for grownups, it works for kids who think they’re grownups, and anyone else i’ve forgotten. basically, you are somebody worth knowing and celebrating — just because you’re you!

So, BS:

…that’s What the Birthday Bird Does in Katroo.

And I wish I could do All these great things for you!

Happy Birthday to You!

kit, an american girl by valerie tripp

Posted on November 17, 2007 by wrekehavoc

there are certain things that are predictable when a young lady turns a corner into the tween world. one, that she’ll probably start to love horses. two, that she’ll start asking for sleepovers. and three, that she’ll fall in love with the American Girl doll franchise (or some reasonable facsimile thereof.) i haven’t yet bought BC any AG stuff (i don’t feel like putting a second mortgage on the house to do so); and we have not yet made any treks to the big store in the Big Apple; but we do enjoy reading the American Girl books. and probably our favorite series thus far (we’re still not nearly anywhere near done) involved Kit, a girl from the Great Depression.

kit is a plucky girl picked out of one of those andy hardy musicals, only, there’s no musical involved here. she wants to be a newsgirl, and she starts out the series as a very proud, somewhat spoiled little chick. but don’t you fret — the Great Depression beats her ass down but good. (naw, i’m joking. sort of.) the chick never loses hope, even when the bank threatens to take her house back. i love the way that the american girl series’ get you talking about american history — sort of like sneaking veggies into your kids’ food and they don’t even know it.

last year, BC did a book report on the series. some of you faithful readers may remember my panic when i realized that girlfriend wanted to dress up like kit. but it all worked out, and i only wish i could get BC to dress in that 1930s garb again — she looked adorable. then again, i’m a sucker for the early ’30s — i still remember the time i made up a drinking game with friends to a marx brothers movie. any time they said something of that period, you had to drink. things like: “say!”

yep. loved the ’30s. pity that asshole hitler had to go and destroy it all. too bad he wasn’t sucked away in a dustbowl.

Kit an American Girl (6 Book Set)

the ABC meme

Posted on November 16, 2007 by wrekehavoc

i’ve been tagged by cynematic to make a glossary of me. ::a you’re adorable, b, you’re so beautiful, c you’re a cutie full of charm::

ok. i’ll knock it off.

rules: list a word that describes you for every letter of the alphabet. offer as much or as little explanation as you wish. please keep the words positive (for example, don’t use “fat�? for F or “lame�? for L), and feel free to get creative. tag as many or as few people as you wish. Link back to your tagger and forward to your taggees.

note that i don’t always keep it positive. but i always keep it real. ::cue MTV-type music here::

a – asshole. yeah. i said it. i’m an asshole sometimes. like i get all angsty and sarcastic and bunched up.

b – bread and brownie baker. those are the two dishes i do well, generally. ask me to cook something, though, and take your life into your own hands.

c – cake baker — i do cookies and cakes well, too.

d – depressed. i generally see the world as a place filled with half-empty glasses. and not the rose-colored kind, either. i fight it; i really do. but i wasn’t voted “class pessimist” back in high school because of my sunny disposition. which, i do have at times, you should know. (hmm. maybe m ought to be for manic depressive?)

e – emotionally perceptive. i may not be einstein when it comes to things like chemistry, but i am einstein when it comes to being perceptive about human chemistry. the only one who continues to puzzle me in that department, of course, is BS. after 20 years, he still surprises me. sometimes in good ways, even.

f – family. from the day i was born, it has been drummed into my head that this is the most important thing in life. nevermind how mad you might get at your brother — he’s still your brother and you have to love him. period. that’s life growing up in my family. summing it up would be my favorite quote from my father: home is the place where they have to take you in.

g – Google Queen. i’ve found out how to fix toilets, how to find old friends, and how to make always perfect sweet-n-sour meatballs thanks to my friend Google.

h – hopeful. i may be depressed, but i always have hope. hope for peace. hope for love. hope for chocolate.

i – insanely happy. i have moments when i probably go over the line and into the blue. i bubble over, and i cannot contain it. really. and it happens at the damndest times. like when i walked out of the hospital after a hematologist’s visit where i was joined by jools. and i was so glad to be leaving there, and the sun was shining just so, and i was holding him so that he didn’t get caught in the revolving door. and he pressed his nose up to mine and smiled. and i was simply full.

j – joker. everything must be funny. even my tragedies.

k – kisser. i come from a family of huggers and kissers. i think i freaked my future father in law out when i first met him. i walked up to him and gave him a big hug and kiss. that’s just how we do it. the nice thing, of course, is that over the years, my husband followed suit and even hugs and kisses his dad, too 🙂

l – love. i fall in love every. single. day. with. so. much. beauty. in. my. life.

m – mama. i worked really, really hard to get called by this name. when BC or jools call me by my first name, i stop her or him, not because it’s a respect thing. i stop the kid because it is my very honor to be called mama, and there are only two people in the world who can call me that. and they damn well better call me that, or a variation of it, until the day i die.

n – nuisance. ask BS what he thinks i am when he’s trying to be good and mad and be in a total snit. and i make a lizard face. or crack a wildly inappropriate joke. yep. with a capital N.

o – outrageous. i have a bit of a mouth on me, and that mouth has gotten me into trouble from time to time. i’ll refrain from some of my, ehhem, finer moments.

p – psychedelic. i dig psychedelic music and psychedelic art. i can’t really speak to the issue of psychedelics themselves, though.

q- quite quarrelsome. okay, okay, i stole that from maurice sendak.

r – restless. i am always interested in things that are new. i can’t sit still.

s – shockingly spoiled. also stolen from maurice sendak. also true.

t – tenacious. i don’t give up.

u – unusually musically oriented. i associate people and situations with songs. i play by ear. music is my daily catharsis.

v – vocal. not shy. shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life you’d like to.

w – writer. i am a writer. i have always been a writer, even when i was sidetracked into three other careers. i will always be a writer.

x – x-tra smart. so smart, i can’t think of an x word. but i’m on it.

y-yawning. i am always tired. i have been tired since 1998. i’ll sleep when i’m dead.

z – zipper-challenged. i can’t fix zippers. i break zippers. somehow, i missed that day at mommy school where they taught you how to fix them when they’re off track. velcro is my friend.

tagging these alpha females in alpha order:

tied to my apron strings

and one cool alpha dude:

philfree

surprise. i tawk funny.

Posted on November 16, 2007 by wrekehavoc

What American accent do you have? (Best version so far)Northeastern

This could either mean an r-less NYC or Providence accent or one from Jersey which doesn’t sound the same. Just because you got this result doesn’t mean you don’t pronounce R’s.(People in Jersey don’t call their state “Joisey” in real life)

Click Here to Take This Quiz
Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests.

matilda by roald dahl

Posted on November 16, 2007 by wrekehavoc

we first met matilda when one of BC’s best friends gave out books in birthday goody bags instead of plastic crap. (yay, mira!!) we were further encouraged when BC’s second grade english teacher, a roald dahl fanatic and all-around amazing teacher, read the BFG and the twits to the class with great animation and admiration for the works. at this time, we’ve read the book several times. we’ve even seen the movie twice, though admittedly, the book is much, much better.

read this book.

the story, about a genius girl who faces some of the worst adults ever (including her parents and her principal), is a wonderful fantasy about how adults are not infallible — and how love can prevail. you have to laugh at the names in the book (Bogtrotter?); and you will be surprised when matilda’s parents scold her for doing something so terribly naughty as reading books instead of watching crap TV.

if words like telekinetic scare the bejeebers out of you, fear not: this is not any sort of carrie meets the horsey set. but you will laugh. i promise. and you will cheer on matilda and miss honey with abandon as the story goes on.

i think the very britishness of it is what is lost in the movie, now that i think of it. and that’s simply wrong. it’s not that danny devito or rhea perlman do a bad job; they don’t. but this is a british story within a british school and caste system. without that, it misses a bit. after all, this is the story that got BC singing: we don’t need no education. we don’t need no thought control. [note to self: don’t let her go into school singing that.]

so read the book — don’t see the movie first — or else i’ll bend a spoon, or move a desk with my mind. or something like that. cos if matilda can do it…

Matilda

otherwise known as sheila the great by judy blume

Posted on November 15, 2007 by wrekehavoc

caveat here: i heartheartheartHEART judy blume. i was a judy blume reading fiend as a young girl. i mean completely, absolutely, unalterably.

and before i go any further, i must say one thing here with clarity and feeling: thank you mom. thank you SO MUCH for not being one of those idiot parents who wouldn’t let her kids read judy blume. you know, those parents who are afraid of their kids reading books that talk about s-e-x? sassy kids who act like themselves in a book? you never thought i would turn into some sort of insane degenerate just because i was reading these and other books. you just were damn glad i was interested in reading. i mean, who knows: if i wasn’t reading about sex, i might be out there having it, instead!

(just kidding about that last one, mom.)

anyway, judy blume’s children/young adult books sort of break down into three different spheres for me. there’s the young kid sphere, with books like freckle juice. there’s the mature sphere, with books like forever (and yes, i was one of the girls who knew every page where the naughty bits were) and are you there G-d? it’s me, margaret. and then, there’s the middle of the road. the fudge chronicles, i think of them. kids are sassy, but they’re still at the point where they don’t like the opposite sex. well, not much, anyway. and while i love fudge and its subsequent sequels, i’ve always held a special place in my tiny heart for sheila the great. for any girl who ever felt afraid and hid it behind a false bravado (not that i have ever known anyone to be like that… ::whistling::), sheila is a beacon. she’s fearful of a lot of things. and, in time, she learns to welcome, and even embrace, some of them.

while the situations in the book bear little resemblance to my life, i must say that sheila is like a little alter ego for me. i love her. and plenty of tweens will, too.

Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great

memories

Posted on November 14, 2007 by wrekehavoc

sometimes, i stop and look at my kids and i learn something.

like today, f’rinstance. BC was getting ready for school. she’s participating in girls on the run, and she’s training for her first 5k. i would like to point out that i have never run 5k (not consecutively, anyway), so i’m pretty proud of her. and even if she doesn’t finish the race, the fact that she’s out there, trying, is enough to make me feel all chuffed. i rediscovered this entry. never would i have pictured that little skinnyskinnythang as someone who likes to run. in fact, back then, she was so tiny, her pants fell down. i couldn’t picture her as someone who would even be remotely athletic, she was so sickly for awhile.

but she is. not an olympian, you know, but she’s one who likes to flip on the bars and run her little heart out.

and i remember a little baby boy who couldn’t get himself to sleep. i would cry myself to sleep, remembering how angry his little face was at the time. why couldn’t i get him to sleep? why couldn’t i make it better? now, he hits a point where he puts his arm around my neck, kisses me, and tells me that he’s ready to go to sleep: “can you please leave now, mommy?”

i have to remember whenever we are challenged that things usually do get better. i have a way of making myself crazy with worry over every little picayune thing.