How I Knew Not to Take My Four Year Old to see Coraline.

Written by Guest Blogger, Chris Mancini

I read the book a few years ago. I knew what it was about. I knew the director Henry Selick has a dark streak and directed Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. To be honest, I couldn’t wait for this movie to come out. When my four year old daughter Bella saw the trailer she wanted to see the movie. I told her no, it would be too scary.
Now, you would have no idea of that from the trailer. It shows happy scenes and a little bit of danger. Standard kid fare, right? Not even close. Coraline is an animated gothic horror nightmare for children. In 3D. And it’s well, great. But I’m not going to let my daughter see it for at least a few more years. But at the time of the trailer I hadn’t even seen it myself yet, so how did I know? Because I knew the source material and I knew who the people involved were who made the movie, and I noticed the PG rating, although after seeing it, it was really a borderline PG-13.
The book was terrifying. Especially if you’re a parent. It’s about a little girl who disappears through a small door in their new home and meets her “other” mother and father who are much nicer to her, at first. The problem is they have dead black buttons for eyes. The creepiness is lightened slightly for the movie, but not much, that’s for sure. And to be truly effective, it shouldn’t have been. I was very impressed. But as a parent, it doesn’t help you how good a movie is if it’s inappropriate for your children. Your kid may like video games and enjoy Mario Kart but you don’t want them going to Vegas and playing video poker, do you? Technically, still a video game.
As usual, trailer editors and marketing departments have no idea what the content is that they’re trying to sell. So it’s up to us parents to not only filter content but to now also adjust for big studio incompetence as well. As if we didn’t have enough to do.
So know your books, know your shows and know your movies. And look, if you get stuck or miss something, just as me or any other parent who always seems to be talking about Aqua Teen Hunger Force or Battlestar Galactica. Trust me, we’ll know.
Coraline is an absolutely fantastic movie and I can’t recommend it enough. It will soon be a classic up there with the Nightmare Before Christmas. See it in 3D for the full effect. Just don’t take your little kids. Seriously. Don’t. Get a babysitter and leave them home with Wall-E.

Chris Mancini is a comedian and author. His first book “Pacify Me: A Handbook for the Freaked-Out New Dad” will be out June 2, just in time for Father’s day.http://www.daddyneedssomealonetime.blogspot.com/

Thanks. I got it.

Written By Chris Loprete

Why is it that when women see a father alone with a baby, they immediately assume we don’t know what the hell we’re doing? Now I don’t want to generalize here. I’m not talking about single women. In fact the single women tend to gravitate towards the daddies at the park or in other public places. Chicks LOOOOVE guys with babies. Babies and dogs. They say, “I want that.” Now of course we men are kidding ourselves because ‘that” is not specifically us, but rather a stable man who’s a good father, and the fantasy is fun. Anyway I’m probably already in trouble with my editor who happens to be my wife (and the two are very rarely mutually exclusive) so I’ll go on. No, I’m talking about the annoying mother who wants to give all kinds of unsolicited advice on how to raise your child. And rightly so. OBVIOUSLY I MUST need this unsolicited advice because my child’s mother is nowhere in sight. I therefore MUST be doing something wrong. And then, I imagine this “guardian angel” will go along her merry way and later at the dinner table tell her family how she saved a child’s life today.

Take this little encounter for example. It was a summer Saturday afternoon about two years ago. I was in my townhouse downstairs and my wife was upstairs with our infant son. I was watching a baseball game and cleaning. The cleaning part is not important to the story but I specifically remember doing it and I always like to remind my wife/blog editor that it does happen on rare occurrences. Anyway I could hear my son crying upstairs pretty loudly. He was probably getting his diaper changed which to him has always been the baby equivalent to a root canal. There was a knock at the door. When I answered it I saw a woman who was walking her dog in front of our door. She asked, “Do you have a baby?”
“Why yes” I said waiting for the inevitable compliment. Something along the lines of, I see you walking him. You have a lovely family. or Well, he’s obviously going to grow up to be a very good looking man. Why else would she take the time out of her dog walking to knock on our door?
This is why: She looked at me and said, “He’s crying upstairs.”
I paused to make sure I had heard her right. Then I said, “Yeah, my wife’s upstairs with him.”
She replied, “Oh, I heard the game on pretty loudly so I wasn’t sure you if could hear him”
Yyyeeeeahhh. Handled, honey but thanks. I’m sure the children of our housing complex are a lot safer with you roaming the sidewalks knocking on doors. Hey hero, I think I hear a baby coughing a couple of houses down. Do you want to call child services or should I?
Or how ‘bout the woman on the beach later on that same summer? I was walking on the beach, my son safely strapped into the front loader on my chest. I felt good. First of all the Baby Bjorn completely covered my huge gut so I wasn’t nearly as self conscious as usual. And secondly, it was a beautiful day and I was walking with my new son at the place I’m always the happiest: the beach. So when I saw a woman walking toward me and eyeing both of us, I started to feel even better. I was sure she could sense the good energy coming off of me and like I said the baby was covering up my huge white shirtless girth so I thought Hey, I think she’s checking me out.
So when she passed by and asked, “Does he have sunscreen on?” I was a bit nonplussed. First of all I had practically bathed him in SPF 560 or whatever the strongest baby sun goop is nowadays. This kid could have crawled across the surface of the sun and come away with nothing but a nice base.
So I told her, “Uh….yeah…plenty.”
She replied, “Oh. Cause his legs look a little red.” and passed by me never breaking her stride.
I immediately turned and shouted after her, “Yeah? Well they call his chubby legs and butt baby fat. They call yours cellulite!” ZING! That got her. Of course I didn’t actually say that but ooooh I wish I had.

And these brilliant pieces of parenting wisdom are not confined to just me when I’m alone. My wife has had to endure some slings and arrows of her own. It’s like divide and conquer. Once my wife and I are divided, they love to conquer. I don’t ever want to hear a sentence that starts with, “Y’know what WE do…” I don’t even like hearing it from our parents, but that I understand and tolerate because “parental interference” is in the grandparent’s code book. It’s a God given right. To tell you the truth as my wife and I get ready for baby #2, we’ve learned to tolerate buttinskys a little more. In fact I’m amazed how laid back we are about having another child and we’re only 3 months out. I guess we think of ourselves as old pros now. In fact it probably won’t be long before we’re handing out some advice of our own to other parents who obviously don’t have a clue what they’re doing. I’m sure they’ll thank us for it.

The Consequences of Learning

Written by Guest Blogger James C. Ferguson

Apparently, as I endeavor to educate my toddler by increasing her vocabulary at every waking opportunity, she – ironically – is turning me into an idiot.

As I mentioned in a previous piece, my daughter adores the written word; she loves books (which, at her reading level of almost two, consist primarily of about fifty actual words plus a never-ending parade of brightly colored genetic testing escapees). It is not uncommon for our daughjter to slip quietly out of sight. But rather than putting all of her socks in the cat’s water bowl, or trying to eat every single piece of fuzz on the carpet, she will retrieve a book from what I call “the library cart” (a little red wagon filled with books), plop down on the floor and begin to read.

My wife and I do our best to encourage this habit. We read to our daughter almost every night. And if she runs up to us brandishing yet another tale of what I can only assume are anthropomorphized aardvark-clown crossbreeds, we temporarily set aside whatever we’re working on and read to her. (Thankfully, she has yet to interrupt any sort of carnal activity.)

Because of what I can only label her aggressive reading habits, our daughter knows a lot of words. And this is where things get paradoxically complicated.

Certain words, if she hears them, elicit such an over-the-top emotional reaction – akin, I’m guessing, to an opera singer getting a wedgie – that we do everything we can to avoid using them in day-to-day conversation. One of the words you can always count on to turn our daughter into Jamie Lee Curtis from Halloween is “milk.” She loves her milk. When she wants her milk, she wants her milk. And if you foolishly happen to utter even part of that particular word anywhere where she can hear you, the sweet child who loves to hug the cats and laugh at The Daily Show turns into a banshee.

So we sometimes find ourselves in situations where you need to use a word like … you-know-what and you do exactly what I just did: you hedge, you weave, you bob, you duck – you do an embarrassing and awkward verbal dance to avoid using the … you know … “it.” And you sound like a complete and total moron. You can feel you I.Q. sliding out your ears. You think, even as it’s happening, “I wish the producers had contacted me about playing Bob Thornton’s part in Sling Blade.”

It might go like this:

Me: “Honey?”
My beautiful wife: “Yeah?”
Me: “Are you going to the store?”
My beautiful wife: “Yeah.”
Me: “We need more, uh, you know …”
My beautiful wife: “What?”
Me: “The stuff.”
My beautiful wife: “Crack?”
Me: “No, not crack; I’m not going to ask you to buy crack at Ralph’s. … It.”
My beautiful wife: “What are you talking about?”
Me: “Come here. Let me whisper it to you.”
My beautiful wife: “I’m in the bathroom!”
Me: “You know what I’m talking about.”
My beautiful wife: “Even less than usual.”
Me: “You know, the … uh … the, um … um … You know, the liquid cheese!”

And if you think your wife is ever going to have sex with you again after using a phrase like “liquid cheese”, I’d buy some stock in cold showers. There’s no coming back from a phrase like “liquid cheese.”

But I guess that’s how it goes. The new generation replaces the old, like New Coke or The New Monkees. As our daughter grows increasingly verbose we – her elders – march slowly down the path towards life as a bad Saturday Night Live sketch. I guess, at the end of the day, you just have to hope she has her own bank account and a driver’s license by the time you get there.

(And if you happen to be driving by a store anytime soon, would you mind picking us up some … you know.)

James C. Ferguson lives in Los Angeles with his wife, daughter and a pile of books about a monkey. James’ own book, Context Clues, is available on Amazon.com. And his film, Happy Holidays, is available at iTunes, Indiepix, Cinemanow, Caachi and Eyesoda. (Soon, the film will also be available on WebMovieNow, Amazon On Demand and Jaman). Additional information can be found on the Happy Holidays MySpace and Facebook web sites.

Having That "Aha!" Moment

Introducing New Guest Blogger:
Brent Farley, Jr.

I am the proud father of two beautiful girls and the lucky husband of a beautiful wife. Along with my three girls, we also have a female dog and a female cat. Needless to say, I am surrounded by females! This wasn't the picture I had in mind when I dreamt about being surrounded by females! Anyway, I am one lucky guy.

Being surrounded by females, I believe I am qualified to make this next statement. As my wife has gotten more involved with Our Milk Money and BizEMOMS, I assumed this was another women's get together where they talk about girl stuff, gossip and complain. My wife leaves me home every now and then with the kids as she attends her monthly meeting. I've never asked what they talk about, fearing I'd get the full story on what is going on in all the ladies lives. Believe me, I don't need to hear it!

In my ignorance, my wife has given me room to perfect it! And I must confess, I was 100% completely wrong about these two organizations. (Yes honey, once again you are correct).

I attended my first event this past Saturday. Without complaining and keeping my mouth shut, we drove to Arizona State University (an hour drive from our house) to help put a float together that was going to be in the ASU homecoming parade. Little did I know, I was ready for a change in attitude.

The float was for the Buddy Walk, the number one fundraiser for the Down Syndrome Network. As I stood watching this float being decorated, I watched as a three year old kid climbed on everyones back, wanting a piggy back ride. As he approached me, he held out his arms and wanted me to pick him up. I reached for this child with Down Syndrome and my life changed. A child who didn't know me laid his head on my shoulder and loved on me! I didn't know what to do so I started rubbing his back. Patting his back. His father stood by our side and watched as I melted, thinking I need to get involved with this organization! I need to refocus my energy, and instead of solely working to make money and pad my wallet, my family can spend time helping others. We have made a commitment to think outside the walls of our home, and spend more energy helping others. This child changed my thinking. Little will he ever know, or probably even his father the impact his child has had on me. And if he can change me, he can change the world!

I was told I have had an "aha" moment, when a husband realizes that the Our Milk Money and the BizEMOMs group isn't a gossip group, or a women's tea session. They are organizations that want to make a difference in the world we live in. And they have been successful.

If you are a husband who has his wife take off to a meeting once a month, I invite you to have your own "aha" moment. A time in your life when you realize there are people in this world, no matter how small or how young, no matter what disabilities they may have, that have the power to change your life!


Brent Farley, Jr. , ECC, DCC is the Operations Manager at SWPPP Inspector. He can be reached at (480) 226-6532 or by emailing: brentfarley@desertservices.net Did you know...SWPP Solutions, LLC. has joined Desert Services? Now you can get your Dust Control, High Pressure Cleaning, Porta Johns, Roll Off Containers, Street Sweeping, Temporary Fence and your SWPP work done... ALL IN ONE PHONE CALL! One more reason why we are "The Ultimate in Construction Services"

The Truth Behind the Mask

By Ally Loprete

They call me “supermom”.

That is because I am a mom, and I have super powers. How else would I be able to manage the chaos in my life and handle everything with a smile on my face without breaking a sweat?
Don’t believe me?

See for yourself: I have a very demanding 2 year old, and another on the way. I am the co-founder of a national organization that caters to 4500 recipients in 80 cities nationwide, and the CEO of a handmade jewelry company that I design and create. I am a leader, a motivator and a people mover, giving public seminars, volunteering to teach improvisation to inner city children, planning community events, writing guest blogs and articles to over 25 news sites, not including my own. I participate in my son’s pre-school twice a week, teach musical theatre and performance to 9 year old girls at a local dance studio, and still find time to run a household, go grocery shopping, prepare 3 meals a day and sleep. I do not have a nanny, rely on daycare, nor do I have any family close by (or even in the same state for that matter) to rescue me or my schedule.

That is why I am known as “supermom”.

But like any superhero, I have a secret identity. Behind the mask is a woman who struggles to maintain the balance of it all, has broken down on more than one occasion, exploded with Niagara Falls, water works hysterics, has turned to one too many bottles of wine in the middle of the day, screams at her husband “how DARE you ask me if you can hang out with the guys tonight???” and has made several “parenting” mistakes such as putting off a dirty diaper change to finish a blog- which resulted in a diaper rash for her infant son. Even as a superhero, I wonder how others are able to pull it off.
Look closer.
Is anyone really pulling it off?
What is this term, “supermom” really doing to our society? Does the term inspire, or intimidate? Does it put added pressure on the women of today that are trying to do it all?
The truth is I am no supermom.
I don’t have any super powers, and I certainly have a breaking point. The more women I speak to, the more I realize we are all very similar. Mothers today are simply amazing- but then again we HAVE to be. Of the women that I know that are working full time- or even part time- and raising a family and maintaining a household, none of them are doing it just because it’s fun for them, and they were looking for MORE in their lives. Most of us are doing it because it’s what is necessary for our families to survive in today’s world. Our families need us to try and bring in a supplemental income because one income is not enough from our husbands- not even those with college degrees and higher educations. It’s not their fault, and we certainly don’t blame them. It’s just the way it is these days.
Before you choose to let someone who seems to be able to do it all overawe you and minimize what you know you are capable of doing, LOOK CLOSER.
If there are days that you feel you are barely staying afloat, take a moment and look at the others in your very same pool treading water. Perhaps they are looking at YOU and wondering how you got YOUR superpowers. All the things that you accomplished today? You seem pretty amazing to me. I’d love to know your secret…
…or your secret identity. I think I might relate better to the woman behind the mask. The real person who falls down often, forgets to eat, lets the laundry pile up, and cries from the overwhelm. It feels better to unveil myself, come clean that I am not actually able to “pull it off” and laugh about it with others who often feel the same way I do. It’s a relief to know I don’t have to save the planet all on my own.
Again.
and again.
and again.

Give

By Guest Blogger, Lisa Lange

It's not as hard as it sounds. Just reach out your hand.


I know that may sound absurd, but I know that many people understand
this concept. I know, as many of you do, that there is always
something to give. Time, energy, a helping hand, a shoulder to lean
on, an ear to listen, a pat on the back, a kind word, a kiss or a hug.
Giving of yourself is truly the best gift of all. It doesn't cost any
money, and it keeps the energy flowing. Since the universe works in
full circle, you must give in order to receive.


Over the past year, while in the infancy stages of my business, I have
been faced with many obstacles, opportunities, whatever you would like
to call them. And, I know that they will keep coming. The difference
between now and then? The way I look at life. It's not a chore, it's
not "hurry up weekend". It's a journey.


I have always been told that people come into your life for a reason,
a season or a lifetime. It is amazing when you change your focus,
decide to maintain positive energy, and focus on what "really matters"
the people that come into your life. And, unfortunately, the people
that make their way out of your life. What happens when you welcome
these "new" people into your life? They bring the gifts to you, like
you have brought to others. You become surrounded by the people that
make a difference. Here comes your pat on the back, your listening ear
when you feel down, your shoulder to lean on when you think you've had
enough, and the kind word you've waited so long to hear.


What are you going to do the next time you feel like you have nothing?

Lisa Lange, Owner of Reading About Me is a friend of the Our Milk Money organization, and a very generous support to parents and families around Arizona and all over the online community.