Cartoon Mirroring Part II

Part one here.
Cartoon Mirroring: verb. To imitate a cartoon.

It's not uncommon for Philosopher Child to forget something in the classroom and I have to walk him back to get it.  On one such a day, as he found his missing items, I chatted with the teacher.  However, as I turned around I saw that Little Viking was on the floor.  I was worried that he was hurt, since I had never seen him just drop onto the floor like that.  But...he was sitting oddly for being hurt.  He sat with the soles of his feet together, back straight, eyes closed, hands in prayer position in front of him.

"What are you doing?" I asked in confusion.  "Get off the floor, please."

He complied, and we moved to leave the classroom.  The teacher said something to me and I turned to respond to her.  When I turned back around, Little Viking was back down on the floor, in the same position.  I asked him again to get up, and we left the classroom.  Partway down the hall, the teacher said something to me again.  I stopped to talk with her, and immediately Little Viking was back on the floor.  He did this several times on the way out of school.

When we got home I asked him about this strange new practice.  He explained that in a cartoon he was watching, there were ninjas that did that.

"Oh, I guess they were meditating," I said.

"Yes.  It's a Chinese thing."

OK, but ninjas were Japanese.  One thing at a time.

Now to teach him dropping onto the floor at a random spot is not the appropriate action when mom stops walking for a minute.

Superhero in Sensible Shoes

Have you ever sat down and watched any superhero shows with your kids? I have. And seriously, something needs to be said here about the female of the superhero species. See, I've decided that supervillains must be stupid.

Really stupid.

Because, well, superhero gals generally have huge *ahem* upper parts and itty, bitty waists. A smart villain would, were they not so stupid, merely tap the superhero girls on the shoulder. Due to their wildly disproportionate frames, the small tap on the shoulder would cause them to fall over, snapping them like a twig in the process.

But, you know, villains are morons. That's why they're villains, I guess.

And seriously, what is up with their SHOES??? If I'm going to be running around, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, kicking bad guys in the face, I want a good sneaker. Or, at least a ballet flat with a decent sole. What I don't want is a knee-high boot with a freaking 6-inch heel. You're not a go-go dancer, sister! Nor are you a fashionista or a cowboy with questionable taste in footwear.

Over the past 24 hours I have made 3 loaves of bread, a tray of cookies, 3 pizzas, cleaned the bathroom, done a bunch of laundry, gone back and forth to school, broken up fights, and located lost items all while wearing sensible shoes. I am a superhero.

And I bet I could still kick a supervillain in the face.

Meditation and Other Hazards

I've had tension headaches nearly daily for 10 or 15 years. Yep. As a teen, if I didn't take a Tylenol before leaving for school, whether I had a headache or not, by the time school let out I'd be at migraine levels. Have you ever had a migraine? They are.not.fun.

So in this manner, I was able to curb the headaches as much as possible. Eventually they nearly disappeared, but lately they are back with gusto. I have been taking ibuprofen 1-2 times a day, every day, for the pain. Doesn't sound healthy? It's not. It's actually a really bad idea. But, for the most part, it was a choice of dealing with ridiculous, blinding amounts of pain, or taking some ibuprofen.

Recently, as my headaches got more and more out of control, I turned to some specific stretches, using better posture, and meditating. Not the trying to attain enlightenment on some astrophysical plane sort of mediation, but just sitting quietly, eyes closed, and just breathing. And you know what? It helped. A lot. I went 3 days without having to take anything. That was huge for me. (I admit over the past 24-36 hours I've been really stressed and last night and this morning I had a lot of trouble just breathing the stress away. I took some ibuprofen as the pain got worse.)

This afternoon I put on an episode of Voltron on my computer for Viking Child to watch (Philosopher Child is at school), brewed some herbal tea, and was going to go and just sit and meditate as the next round of headaches was creeping up.

As soon as I was going to sit, Viking Toddler ran in, asking to watch something on the TV instead. I explained to him that I really needed him to go watch Voltron, for just a little while, and I would call him in a bit. He went back pretty easily. I was on my way to go sit, but the dog had to go out now. Fine. Take the dog out. Go back to sit. As I am, Viking Toddler runs in with another demand, and while my attention is focused on him, I back into a bucket that Husband had used to fix some plumbing yesterday. Ick all over the back of my pants that I had just put on. Go to change my pants. Go back to sit to find that Viking Toddler had gone behind my back and put something loud on TV. In a last bit of frustration, I simply shouted, "I GIVE UP!"

And then I came here to vent.

And now my tea is ready.

Traaaaansformers!

Robots in disguise!

If you are around my age, you probably now have the theme running through your head. If not, sorry. But anyway, I think we are all at least aware of Transforms now, yes? If not, go visit wikipedia for a minute. It's not important that you know much about them, only that they are giant battling robots that can transform into objects like vehicles and such. OK, you don't have to visit wikipedia. I just told you what they are.

Anyway, we've had crazy weather here over the past few days. Powerlines are down all over the place. Trees are down, there are branches everywhere, and we were a little shocked to see the sun.

During all this nonsense, there was suddenly a very, very loud BOOM!

"What was that?" I asked Husband.

"Sounds like a transformer," he replied. Of course he meant transformer as in electrical equipment, not the giant robots.

"Transformer?" said Little Viking.

Do you see where this is going?

"A Transformer battling?" he asked in that adorable little voice.

"No, not that kind of transformer, honey," I said. "A different kind."

"Oh," he said. "So it was like Iron Man?"

What's really sad is after being immersed in all this boyness, I know exactly why his mind jumped to Iron Man when I said a different kind of transformer. *Sigh*

Celebrity Context

Celebrity Context: noun. The knowledge that celebrities are, in fact, human.

I was reading an article in an online newspaper, minding my own business, when I happened to notice the sidebar. You know, where they keep all the bits about other articles they think you should read? Anyway, as I looked, the sidebar was full of celebrity nonsense that I don't understand why anyone would be interested in. And really, when you put it in a different context, the "news" is downright dull. I mean, the kind of dull that if a friend told you the same story about themselves, your mind would wander. If a stranger told you, you'd think they were narcissistic.

Let me give you an example. Let's say your next door neighbor went to the beach. Is that interesting? No, not really. Let's say that neighbor took his or her kids to the beach. Is that interesting? Nope. Unless, of course, you have some sort of hand in raising their kids, I guess. But, if that is not interesting then why on earth would someone care if a movie star went to the beach?

So, say a married friend of a friend of a friend is pregnant. Interesting? Not really. Maybe in a good-for-them kind of way, perhaps. What if said person was having pregnancy cravings. Would you seriously care to ask what kind of cravings if you've never even met the person? No? Then why do we care what kind of cravings a celebrity has?

This the part where many of you may stop and say, "But this has nothing to do with child-rearing. You have left what the core of the Mom-tionary." And this is where I say, "Nope, I'm getting there. Pay attention."

I don't want my kids falling over themselves at the sight of some star. I don't want them thinking that they are somehow under them because a celebrity's name is known farther. If there is some person in the limelight that has done something truly noble and they want to respect that person, that's OK with me. But really. I think enough is enough. That is why I will be teaching my kids that a movie star is nothing more than someone who is good at their job, their job being an actor.

No, my name is MARTIN.

Wow, it's been a long month. Notice the lack of posts last month? Yep, there's a reason. Here it is.

The in-laws took Philosopher Child and Viking Toddler for 3 weeks out of state to their home. Awesome, right? I was so excited for the quiet. But, having never been without my kids for more than over night (and that was only one of them, not both), as we got closer to the time, I got anxious. Then I started getting panic attacks. In short, was sick to my stomach for much of that three weeks. Sucked.

But, they are home now. We flew out to get them and we all arrived back in our little but well loved house late last night.

But you know what's fun? Airport security. More specifically, going through airport security with children with imaginations. See, our kids have been watching Wild Kratts lately (warning, there's music when you open that link), and Viking Toddler has been telling everyone that his name is Martin, as in Martin Kratt. Hint, it's not. So, as we got to the entrance to security, a TSA agent was scrutinizing our licenses very, very close with a very suspicious eye. He looked at Philosopher Child and said, "Is your name [Philosopher Child]?" Philosopher Child dutifully nodded. The agent then looked at Viking Toddler and asked, "Is your name [Viking Toddler]?"

And then our dear, sweet Viking Toddler said, "No, my name is Martin." When I'm watching toys get removed from babies' hands and grandmothers patted down, this is not the time for that sort of humor. But, funny in hindsight.

Jaws TV

Jaws TV: noun. A show or number of shows that you only thought were safe for your kids to watch. How foolish.

Christmas time is nearing, is it not? It must be, since I'm constantly yelling at Viking Toddler to get away from the Christmas tree and continually setting our wooden nativity upright again after there have been small children near it. And, of course, musing about how much I hate our tree skirt. But that's a little thing in the grand scheme of life. At least we have a house to put a Christmas tree in, and that is truly a blessing.

But I digress. As usual. I'm told that I do that. "Meander" I think is a term that has been applied to my stories by loving family members. *Cough-Younger Sister-cough*

But again, I digress. Anyway, we've been watching A Christmas Story lately. You know, the one with Ralphie and all of the "You'll shoot your eye out," and "Only I didn't say fudge." A perfectly safe family movie. You can now imagine Jaws music.

I was standing in the kitchen when Viking Toddler ran up to me and start to hit my legs with closed fists. I was confused, but told him no hitting and sent him out. Generally, that's all it takes. He went off to play, and a short while later asked to watch A Christmas Story. No problem. I put it on for him, and then everything clicked. At the point when Ralphie is beating the tar out of the neighborhood bully, Viking Toddler again ran up to me and began hitting my lges (the only thing he can reach) with closed fists. Ah ha!

Now we utilize the fast-forward button. Liberally.

Sudden Nastalgia

Sudden Nastalgia: noun. The feeling of nastalgia a parent gets when their child does something that reminds them of something else.

Yesterday, Monkey Son #1 received a toy laptop as a gift. It has little educational games programed into it. Very cute.

So this morning, Monkey Son #1 held up a Transformer toy and tried to do a robot voice.

"I-am-a-friendly-robot. I-want-you-to-play-a-game-on-[Monkey]'s-computer."

I just kept thinking, "Hello, Dr. Falken. Would you like to play a game?"

If you're initial response to that question is to ask, "How about a nice game of chess?" I will laugh hysterically with you.

Cartoon Mirroring

Cartoon Mirroring: verb. To imitate a cartoon.

For those of you who don't know, PBS has a Curious George cartoon that is very cute and educational. However, I really wish they would leave some things out of it. For instance, there was an episode where George was using two toy cars as roller skates, which of course looked like a lot of fun. So much fun that Monkey Son #1 decided to try it. Fortunately, I saw what he was doing before he got hurt or broke anything. The toy cars he was using weren't even the same size, and one of them doesn't roll very well.

I guess, deep down, I can't blame him. When I was a child, I wondered if you really could slip on a banana peel like I saw in cartoons. So I tried it. It turns out that it does really work, or at least it does on a hard floor. Ouch.

Swear of Mispronunciation Part 2

Swear of Mispronunciation: noun. A word that a child mispronounces, and ends up coming out as a swear word.

[Go here for part one]

Have you ever seen A Christmas Story? Most people have, I think, and if you haven't, do watch it when you get a chance. TV stations run it pretty often around Christmas time.

There is a scene in the movie in which Ralphie is helping his father change a tire, but accidentally drops all of the nuts. Ralphie slowly mouths "fuuuuudge....." and grown-up Ralphie, who is narrating the story says, "Only I didn't say fudge," but in fact said, "the queen mother of dirty words, the F-dash-dash-dash word."

OK, moving on to my point. For some reason, when something goes wrong, I say "fudge nuggets," or, "super fudge nuggets." I have no idea why this is. It's just one of those things that make me...well, let's say "special." Yes, we'll go with "special."

So, the other day, I again said "fudge nuggets." Monkey Son #1, who has decided it's great fun to repeat everything that anyone says, tried to repeat it. Only he didn't say fudge. I told him not to try to say "fudge nuggets" again, as his diction is just not up for the job.

Cartoon Confusion

Cartoon Confusion: noun. The confusion a parent feels about a children's show or the characters therein, but the logic of which is either understood by or does not bother a child.

Monkey Son #1 loves PBS and Qubo. I can't complain too much about these channels, as most of their shows are educational, and I am at times amazed at what he picks up from watching them. Still, a couple of aspects of these shows just confuse or downright disturb me.

One example that comes to mind is PBS' Big Big World. It's a pretty good show, and if you've never seen it, it's like Bear in the Big Blue House, or at least it seems to me. In the show, several animals live in or near what they call the World Tree, which is located in a rainforest. The two parental or wise animals that guide the others are Snook the sloth and Madge the map turtle. Now, here's what gets me. There is a character named Bob, who is an anteater. He's very nervous and worries a lot, but the strangest thing is that he tries to be friends with the ants. Bob never eats the ants in the show, but it is still a bit disturbing to make friends with what you are supposed to be eating. After all, if I want a steak, I don't go down to the farm and say, "Hello, Bessie! How are you feeling today?" This, however, is what Bob does. Of course, Monkey Son #1 hasn't picked up on the absurdity of this.

Baby Word

Baby Word: noun. A word spoken by a baby that is so mispronounced, it is unrecognizable if taken out of context.

When Monkey Son #1 was less than a year old, he started saying "goo-gak." It wasn't mere baby talk or the random babble that babies make. He was using it as a word. But what could it mean? We were just baffled.

Finally, we were watching PBS one day, and Sesame Street came on. When Cookie Monster came on the screen, Monkey Son #1 said, "Goo-gak!"

"Goo-gak?" I said. Then I looked at the screen. "Cookie?"

"Goo-gak!"

Oh. Cookie, referring specifically to Cookie Monster. The only similarity between the two words is the "oo" sound in the middle and that they are both 2 syllabals, but for some reason, they were close enough to each other to sound right to those baby ears.

Now, next time, we'll talk about baby songs.