Where My Girls At, DC Comics?

I like to post funny stuff because funny stuff is fun to write. This isn't funny and it wasn't fun to write. If you have a young lady in your life, you'll understand why I felt compelled to shed some attention on this.

I read an article this evening about a little girl that wrote to DC comics, questioning why there weren't more female superheroes.  Her letter is beautifully executed (her parents are college English professors), and she addresses the fact that she's watched comics since she was a little girl and knows that she's not the only little girl that ends up questioning why there are few superhero figures that are girls.  She goes on an explains that she received a set of Justice League figures for her birthday and of the 12, only 2 were female.

How sad that this 11 year old has already discovered that female superheroes are just not desirable enough for DC to market and make. Yep. It's not important to show little girls that they can aspire to be strong and save the day, because that's a boy's job.  Errrrrrrr. Which means that we are also subconsciously reinforcing this same message to little boys. Little girls don't need strong role models. Girls aren't strong enough to be considered superheroes. They're not as strong, and they aren't smart enough to save the day.

In case you didn't read about this article, DC comics did tweet back to Rowan and tell her that female superheroes and movies where female superheroes are the main character are in the works. Their artists also turned Rowan into a superhero and I think their response is cool for this little girl, and also continues to shed light on what Rowan has exposed as a problem.

And now it's time for a little story:
I am one of those moms that pretends to enjoy making my kids' Halloween costumes.  It's fun to get crafty, but I'd be lying if I said it WASN'T a major pain in the a$$ most of the time. Long story short, I ran out of time and energy a couple of years ago and I sat down at the laptop with my 6 year old BOY and said "let's find costumes for you and your (3 year old) sister."

Side by side on Amazon were Batman and Robin costumes. My handsome man flipped out and determined that he was going to be Robin and that his LITTLE SISTER HAD TO BE BATMAN.  I asked him if he was sure that I heard him correctly and that he didn't want to be Batman (shame on me). He confirmed his selection, and the purchase was made.

Boom....Halloween.  No sewing machine, coffee binges, and 4 hour Michael's and JoAnn Fabric trips.  My 3 year old, sassy, beautiful, strong, sensitive little miss ROCKED that costume while her much taller, handsome, confident, older brother stood proudly next to her as HER sidekick.  He even pulled the wagon with her in it from house to house, because that's what good sidekicks (and amazing brothers) do.  And there were comments about how cute it was that their roles were reversed, and how people couldn't believe that the older brother wanted to be Robin and that he "let" his sister be BatMAN.  We ignored them and continued to enjoy the fact that we gave the proverbial middle finger to traditional gender roles that night.

So to review and state the obvious, at six years old, my little guy saw nothing wrong with taking a sidekick role to his sister.  And my 3 year old was thrilled to be Batman. BatMAN...(and to get technical, she was Batman wearing a tutu...because that's how, as a culture, we deal with the fact that there aren't many female superheroes to pick from--we just throw tutus on the male superhero characters...#totallynormal).

Throw an equal number of empowering girl superheroes into the mix and we might encourage a generation of strong, empowered, advocating, save-the-day females.  They might grow up to be superheroes and have male sidekicks. Or they might grow up, completely smitten with the CHOICE to choose what and who they want to look up to. And the boys, well, they would be completely cool with the fact that girls are bumping elbows with them for leadership roles. Whoa.  Mind blown.

Girls are much stronger than they (and others) give them credit for.  I mean, so strong. Even when they don't mean to be:

Hey Rowan, you don't need a superhero to inspire you to be strong, but I appreciate the fact that you're advocating for little girls so they don't have to fight so hard to be considered as strong, as tough, and as deserving of a #1 spot.

So, thank you, Rowan.  Keep pushing for what you believe in.  Dedication and persistence are quite the superpower...

Baby Alive's Real Name Should Be "Baby Stab Me In the Eye"

If you are my Facebook friend, you may have noticed that we started a casualty list with my daughter's toys.  On Christmas Eve, she ripped the arm off a lifesize doll and proceeded to laugh hysterically about it.  Perhaps I was the one laughing.  Not sure on that one, but regardless, it was funny.  That was casualty #1.  Honestly, that ugly doll had it coming.  I'm not sure whattttt Santa was on when he slated that poor gal' for our house.  She didn't stand a chance....

I knew enough to number these "casualties" because my daughter is, ahem, a little rough.  She's not exactly the type of delicate flower that you'd expect in a four year old girl, unless that delicate flower can be mistaken for a nuclear missile.  Her smile can easily light up a room.  Her hands can easily tear down a nation, or the internet in a nation (I'm talking to you North Korea).

In addition to the ugly a$$ doll (Lefty, I like to call her) that Santa stained Christmas with, my little miss was gifted a lot of art supplies.  My husband and I, even against our better judgement, SOBERLY, purchased her a rubber stamp kit.  Casualty #2 was my window sill which was stamped with beautiful purple and pink fairies. For the record, a magic eraser will remove rubber stamps from painted window sills....

This post is actually about Casualty #3 though.

ME.

I AM CASUALTY NUMBER 3. I made a major error in judgement and told a family member to purchase <drum roll, or trumpet Taps> BABY ALIVE.

For those of you that don't know, Baby Alive is a doll that eats, drinks, and sh*tzzz her pants. You feed her, give her water *SO SHE DOESN'T GET CLOGGED, according to the directions*, and then wait for the digestive magic to happen. So I tried to get her on Black Friday at a reduced rate because who the eff pays full price for a doll that makes poo and requires so much damn attention? 

I ordered it on Walmart's website at a discounted price, only to receive an email 12 hours later (after I'd already been to Walmart and walked past her Black Friday display, saying "hey girl, I ordered you online already so I don't even need to pick you up right now because you're in a box with my address on in a FedEx terminal somewhere) that says "Your item is unavailable, but we've credited your account.  Sorry about the inconvenience."

How wonderful of you to credit me for the item that I could have purchased in the store that day for the discounted price but didn't because I ordered it online earlier that you've now deemed unavailable.

And that, my literary friends, was some foreshadowing.  I should have taken this as the universe's message: "Lady, you don't want Baby Alive, so take this as your hint and buy an Easy Bake Oven." But I didn't. 

Shortly after, a family member asked what they could get my little darling for Christmas.  I remembered that I was unsuccessful with Baby Alive and offered that as a suggestion.  The family member even questioned my sanity when I make the suggestion.  I said "she really wants it.  It'll be fine!" #dumbdumbdumb

Fast Forward to yesterday, while celebrating with said family member.  The rest of this post will be a bulleted itinerary of events:

* daughter opens Baby Alive and nearly sh*tzzz her own pants out of excitement.

* daughter feeds and "waters" Baby Alive until that doll sh*tzzz her pants so many times that we run out of the provided diapers "in the value pack". Don't worry.  The directions say you can order additional ones (more on this in a minute).

* family member reminds me that I made this suggestion so I cannot be upset.

* I pour myself a large drink and eat a handful of chocolate.

* daughter cries 14 times after I say "we cannot feed this little sh*tter baby until we buy her more diapers" the 19 times she asks. Yes.  I ignored her the other 5 times.

* daughter sneaks into her bathroom, rips open a pack of Baby Alive "peas" and sprinkles some of that mess all over the bathroom floor, then cleans up her spillage with water, creating something I can only describe as a pistachio puddling exfoliation treatment for my bathroom vanity, counter, and floor.  She may have fed small amounts to Baby Alive, as well. I clean said spillage up and reprimand daughter for ATTEMPTING to do exactly what I asked her not to do. 

*Baby Alive proceeds to succumb to the call of nature. I cannot write "sh*tzzz her pants" however, because we had run out.  I place her in the bathroom sink as my daughter cries, horrified, that I would even consider making her sleep in there.

At this point, one would have thought I would have questioned the whereabouts of Baby Alive's spoon and dish and the "non spillage" of peas.  I did not...

*I get both of my kids cleaned up for bed, and happen to trip walking into darling daughter's room. I catch myself on the door, throwing it backwards against the door stopper, and hear darling daughter exclaim "Oh NO!!!!"

*I look down and see that she has hoarded the "non-spillage" Baby Alive "Peas" behind her door, which have now sloshed all over her white-ish Berber carpet.  She was totally planning on sneaking that non-diapered baby into her room for a late night snack!!!

*I freaked out, cleaned up pistachio-exfoilating-suppposedtolooklikePeas-mess on her carpet, threatened taking Baby Alive back all while Baby Alive chimed "Where are you mommy? It is time to play?  Did I make a stinky?" from her comfortable spot-relieving herself in my bathroom sink.

*After getting a hyperventilating preschooler to bed "BUT NOW SHE DOESN'T HAVE FOOD OR DIAPERS!!!", I start searching #amazon for the replacement food and diapers for this PITA toy (which my daughter loves more than pink starburst and more than I love dry red wine).  Oh HELL no. $13 dollars will only score you 10 diapers and 2 more packages of food.  whatanEFFINGdeal.

*I google "Baby Alive DIY" and find a plethora of ideas (newborn diapers, don't feel like you have to get Pampers, DIY cloth diapers, baking soda and food coloring "peas" and "peaches" food, etc.)

Fast Forward 16 hours and through Daughter's 31 questions of "When is it time to get "mibebe"(yes, she's french-mexican now) her diapers?"

*I go into #walmart and purchase some cheap newborn diapers.  A lady walks up to me and asks me if I'm expecting.  My response?  "No, but I have recently lost 15 pounds. Thanks so much." She walked away quickly.

At this point, I must say, I waved the white flag.  You win #babyalive.  I'd like to think I was a nobel competitor.  #casualtynumber3isme

Black Friday Just Ate Thanksgiving

Black Friday has now turned into "Eat Turkey And Pie And Leave So I Can Shop" Thursday, ETAPALSICS Thursday for short.

Oh yes.  And more commonly known, PRE-2010, as #THANKSGIVING.

What the hell, big box stores!? You are opening at 6pm? That's so @&*%ing ridiculous that I cannot even gather my thoughts to compose this post. Someone is reading this saying 1.) "no one forces anyone to go shopping."  Someone else is reading this saying 2.)"who cares what time they open? It's allowing me more time to plan my evening."

Here is my rebuttal:
1.) I like Thanksgiving.  It's one of my favorite holidays.  I don't want to cut it short to go stand in line for the crap that I think someone in my family needs.  I want to have the holiday, AND THEN go stand in line and drop sharp elbows to people getting pushy around the crap I think I need after JUST being thankful for all the stuff that I have (that I don't use...that I just store and organize). That's what I want to do.  Furthermore, I live in New effing York.  It's expensive to live here.  For the love of Pilgrims, have you seen our gas prices? They're lower than they've been in a half of a decade and they're still like 40 cents higher per gallon than anywhere else. We get taxed for everything.  I sneeze and get a tax bill in the mail saying I owe something for it.  I can't afford NOT to shop on Black Friday.

Which brings up someone else's thought: You need to realign your priorities so that your family members don't want for so much and they see the value in simplicity.

Frickin' good point.  I'll get right on that.  I'm sure my entire family will love a scarf which I will painstakingly make from dryer lint and bathroom drain hair. I'll surely wrap that b**ch up in recycled paper bags that I dug out of the recycling bin at the grocery store. Don't worry, it will have a burlap bow too, making it extra fancy.  I'm sure I'll find a pattern on the homemade christmas board on Pinterest....

Oh, and to the person who was thinking "who cares what time they open? It allows me to spread my evening out..." Let me ask you a question. What's special about standing in line at a store at 6pm on a Thursday night? My friend Shari and I had this conversation and we determined there is NOT A DAMN THING special about that.  You can shop on Thursday nights at 6pm.  You can shop at most stores at 9pm.  But you are not supposed to be shopping at 2am in a store unless it's the most magical grocery store on Earth, #Wegmans, and you are drunk.  So, by starting at 6pm, you will get the crap you think you need but you don't and you will go home at a reasonable hour, and will not be craving lunch at 8am like in previous years. #lame.  

Economic materialism has impacted these stores to open earlier and earlier and release their ads months ahead of Black Friday, I mean ETAPALSICS Thursday (Let's brand that.  It has a really nice roll off the tongue. E-Tap-Al-Sics).  There will be NO MORE enjoying a day with family and friends, being thankful, watching football, leaving the table and getting the most comfortable seat to pass out in before Uncle Johnny starts snoreweezing in that spot so loudly you can't hear the TV (Fun Fact: I do not have an Uncle Johnny).  You will not be tearing through the ads in the paper, because you will have developed a ETAPALSICS Thursday plan which is color coded and organized for efficiency.

So, to recap, Thanksgiving is now to be cut ridiculously short, and shopping on Black Friday doesn't even matter because all the good deals will already be over, and all the stores will look like Fallujah, post-invasion. I mean, what are people supposed to do on Friday?

Perhaps I'm just bitter over this, but in my opinion, the deals kind of suck this year, anyway. I'll be busy though, because I have some dryer lint and hair to knit into a scarf. I wonder what I washed that was red?

Carve This.

Let's discuss pumpkin carving templates.

The only thing I want to carve, after looking at them, are my eyes.  And not into jack-o-lantern happy triangles, into death-ridden "x's". 

Who creates these? NO ONE WITH KIDS! "Yes, sweetie, let's carve Darth Vader walking a dog with a sunset in the valley of the mountains in the background. Go grab a jigsaw and 174 toothpicks. Oh! And your sister really wants to carve Elsa's silhouette with her ice castle in the background. I hope my steady hand will be able to accurately depict the intricate details of the 4,852 spindles on her ice castle staircase. Oooh! Grab another pumpkin because we must not forget to carve Sven!"

These super-sculptor douches ruin this tradition for the average. A jack-o-lantern is supposed to be three triangles for eyes and nose and a half moon for a mouth. If you feel tricky,  add a couple of rectangular teeth...ooooh, you fancy! 

Pinterest, you've over-complicated something, again, and I'm not impressed. 

Imagine the relief I felt when my little man chose a Lego face from the front if the Lego blocks. No toothpicks. No Dremel. No pixie dust and prayers needed! And he was able to do it all by himself! He is proud of it and I am proud of him for recognizing what he could tackle independently, because doing his best by himself was more important to him than a pumpkin-replica of a  "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fighting an evil warlord while eating a slice of pizza" that was worthy of  a spot on Mt. Rushmore.  Oh, presidents only on Rushmore? Ok.  Bill Clinton in the Oval Office with an intern?  At least someone was getting something done...Yikes, that's an entirely different blog post...

Oh, and my daughter's pumpkin? Olaf. With three seperate cuts for his Godforsaken-carrot-nose.  Stupid dumb snowman.  Stupid me for having Pinterest open while she was in the room!

The moral of the story is that overachieving pumpkin-carvings designed for the "carving enthusiast" make me wonder what is missing in that "enthusiast's" life that causes them to spend 4 days carving a pumpkin. Get a job. Or a family. Or, better yet, come do my laundry!

Here's Your Snack...

Last month, my cousin's wife posted a picture of a set of a snack plates that she found at a local giftshop:

          (Photo credit to Mary!)

I want these so bad. I don't think I have EVER wanted a kitchenware as much as I want these. In addition, I want a matching chip dish, "chips for you, bi*ch" and an olive tray that says something like "stick this in your mouth and shut it".  I had another line that involved the word "suck" but even I blushed when writing it, so I filtered...

I don't know why I think these are so funny, but every time it look at this picture, I laugh outloud. 

I hope I get these as a Columbus Day gift so that I can use them for Thanksgiving and Christmas! Whatttt, you don't exchange on Columbus Day? My man, Chrstopher sailed the ocean blue in 1492, and IMHO, the LEAST we can do is exchange presents (or at least buy me these plates) to give Chris some respect! 

Speaking of Thanksgiving: Could you imagine if the Natives had these plates when the pilgrims came for dinner? 

Bahahaha! Better yet a plate that said, "eat up, thief!" Yes. That would have been a much more entertaining Thanksgiving story. 

Of Course the Summer Polar Vortex is This Week...

Let's discuss Mother Nature. She's a ridiculously indecisive, moody WENCH.

We do not vacation thattt often, but we do try to do one big trip a year, usually to the beach, and one small trip over the summer.  The last three years, we have ROYALLY struck out on the weather. Instead of boring you with three years worth of vacays, I'll go back 1.5 years.  Halfsies only to keep your attention...

Last February, we went to Disney. You know, the World? Large, people-sized creepy characters wandering around, completely mute? <SN: I heard that they now say phrases and the phrases are remote controlled. Slightly less creepy, NOT!> Anyway, I packed for seasonable weather. Capris, short sleeves, sundresses, shorts, bathing suits, etc.. I made sure each family member wore a wintery outfit, and we packed a wintery outfit and extra sweatshirts.

It was cold. Like 30s and 40s at night, 50s and if you were GeeDee lucky, 60 by 2pm. We froze. But we made the best of it, because it was supposed to be the happiest damn place on Earth, and the fact that we vacationed during Florida's first notable experience with the Polar Vortex was not going to deter our happiness, for ChriDisney's sake.

Fast forward six months to August: We go camping with my in-laws to an outdoor water park for 5 nights. It's AUGUST. Summer. Not late August, early August. Watermelon, swimming, HEAT?! Yeah, not that week.  It was *maybe* 65 degrees for most of the days we were there, and then one day it was in the low 70s. The glorious trip to the water park was complete with a blue-lipped toddler, a shrinkage-affected 6 year old (just a guess!) and 2 ear infections because "moooooooom, I'm not cold..." meant "I'd rather freeze my tots off and go down that slide than wrap up in that towel."  Did I mention that the park was working on the heating element for their water that week and that the water wasn't heated BECAUSE IT SHOULDN'T HAVE TO BE IN AUGUST?

...And now we are at vacation attempt number 3.  A Myrtle Beach vacation in mid April. Risky, to begin with, but a chance that we were willing to take because of the wicked chilly winter we had in New York.  It should have been between 65-72 degrees, according to averages.  Even the low temps were in the low 50s, according to averages. Yup. You guessed it, the Polar Vortex just happened to make it's way down to South-Freekin-Carolina in time for day 2 of our vacation, and lasted the whole week. We enjoyed one seasonably warm day before temps dropped into the LOW 50s for the rest of the trip. Awesome.

Flashback: remember that camping trip to the water park that was a chilly fail last summer?  Well, in our brilliance, we changed that trip from August to what is *supposed* to be the hottest week of the year. This next week in July, is traditionally, the creme de la creme in terms of heat! I started looking at the forecast wayyyy in advance and saw the temps in the low 70s. I was like "naaa. That'll change." It did! The highest temp is the day we get there, 74 degrees. It's supposed to rain until we leave, and the high temperatures on two of the days is in the mid 60s. Sounds like outdoor-water-park-weather to me! I'm packing the Motrin for the ear infection as we speak.

So, I've decided that I'm changing my name to Elsa. I'm clearly the issue, and I'm having a difficult time "Let(ting) It Go." You can call me Queen (Bee). See what I did there? A Frozen reference AND a Lorde, "Royals" reference? Hmph. Probably not even worth a chuckle. Weak material, I'll keep working... 

So, I guess the question is, who wants to take me on vacation? Anyone? Bueller?! :)

Columbus' Voyage, With His Ladies

So, Columbus' cracked out accidental discovery of San Salvatore (now The Bahamas) have resulted in a glorious Monday off for a lot of people! Thank God he decided to take the chance to sail, relying on Aristotle's and Ptolemy's words of spherical wisdom, and his boat didn't just fall off "Flat Earth" into the black abyss.

History books about Columbus CLAIMED that he took three boats with him, but I'm pretty sure based on what I've found on Google (it has to be true), those were actually the names of his lady friends. Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria were riding the waves with Columbus, but they were not the vessels he used to arrive to The New World. I'm just sayin'. I mean, some fancy professor in Texas said he probably had Reiter's Syndrome, which could be developed from an STD (or poor sanitary conditions or improper food preparation). Hmmmph. Well, I supposed being at sea for five weeks on end without access to hand sanitizer, Dawn dish soap, or Axe body wash makes either of those possible and it's not polite for me to be calling Chris out on having chlamydia.  Sorry, buddy.

Anyways, I'm super glad that we still celebrate Columbus Day. It allows me to drink more beer today while I watch football, without worrying about my work alarm rousing me from a beer slumber on Monday morning. Confused as to why I'd have to drink to enjoy football on Sunday? Well then, clearly you aren't from Buffalo.