You think I'm joking, don't you? Hah.

1. A teacher in the Sudan is going to be publicly whipped because she and her class named her teddy bear Mohammed. (No really. Headline News said so.)




2. Marie Osmond. Doll costume. Public. (This is why I don't watch Dancing with the Stars. But I know about it because of. . .Headline News.)




3. YouTube banned a video montage of women breastfeeding. (Wouldn't even have it in the adult section. See <a href="http://commercialnation.blogspot.com/2007/11/can-you-believe-i-had-to-post-about.html">here</a> and <a href="http://www.leagueofmaternaljustice.com">here</a> for more explanation.)




4. VH1 and Dr.Drew have teamed up to create a new reality show - celebrity rehab. (When "Celebrity Bowel Movements" starts - and it will - I'm heading for the desert.)




5. Serendipity III in Manhattan serves a $25,000 dessert. (And it's not even car-sized.)




6. Bratz Dolls. (I wouldn't be surprised if each doll had a tramp stamp.)




7. People who have nannies for each child. (If there are more employees in your house than family members you have too much money. Start a foundation, for God's sake.)




8. Nicole Ritchie is procreating. (For someone that skinny to ovulate must have been an act of God. And not a happy God, either.)




9. I actually liked Stacy London's (she the catty bitch on What Not To Wear) new talk show.




10. The writer's strike. (First they got rid of the intellectuals in the government. Next they get rid of the intellectuals in the entertainment industry. Who is next? Will I get thrown off the parent committee for reading Alison Weir?)

Should I Let The Social Worker Read My Blog?

Yesterday I took the children to the library. I thought it would be fun to walk, seeing as we have just spent a week indoors avoiding eyelash-scorching heat. Ironflower happily climbed into the stroller, eager to check out every Todd Parr book in the library. Lovebug handled being put in next to her quite agreeably. We set off on our fifteen minute walk to the cozy and familiar library.

Ironflower and Lovebug were pretty cheerful on the walk over. Ironflower asked enough questions about who lived in the houses we passed that I started making things up. I found all the proper ramps for street crossing, because we own the most awkward side-by-side stroller known to parents (whenever women pregnant with their second child ask me about our stroller I tell them not to even think about it and to refuse it if offered for free). After arriving, I got a whole five minutes in the adult section before we HAD to go to the kids' area (I used to go to my area after we went to the kids', but they were actually more impatient that way).

All went reasonably well, especially since the computer was not on and thus Lovebug could move the mouse to his heart's content. We found lots of fun books and CDs and Lovebug only pulled a few books off of the shelves. I should have known something bad was going to happen when Lovebug volunteered to climb into the stroller. I asked Ironflower if she was ready to go - and she was. Then we checked out and I didn't even have any fines. It was all too good to be true.

Lovebug began screaming as we walked across the parking lot. He wanted down. I explained that getting out of the stroller was not an option. He screamed and tried to break out of the straps. I told him he could get out soon. He screamed some more. The few people we saw stared at us, but when they saw I wasn't beating him with a baseball bat they looked away. I kept trudging home and Lovebug kept screaming.

Then, because he is a resourceful child and likes to get his way, Lovebug began pulling Ironflower's hair. This is the great disadvantage of the side-by-side stroller, not only can they share snacks, juice and conversation; they can also assault each other easily. Lovebug, while not yet eighteen months old, can inflict A LOT of pain with his hair pulling techniques. Ironflower howled and I removed Lovebug's hand. He did it again and again and finally (not having the option of putting him in time-out on the streets of the Dale or of being able to carry him and push a stroller filled with Ironflower and library books) I smacked his hand away and used my mean teacher voice to yell NO. Since he'd been sobbing the entire time, I can tell you that he didn't really react to the smack, except that he actually let go of her hair for more than thirty seconds. At this point they were both screaming and I was yelling "NO!" while on the verge of tears myself. Lovebug was only momentarily daunted, though, and returned to hair pulling a minute or so later (while also kicking and screaming - I knew that I'd never be able to carry him and push the stroller). Ironflower screamed in pain and I continued to yell NO.

I then tucked Lovebug's offending hand under his stroller seat belt - I didn't know what else to do to make him stop hurting his sister. Lovebug screamed like I had stabbed him with a hot knife. . . and that's when I saw the old man across the street. He was stopped dead in his tracks, just staring at me and my charming children. I tried to nod and smile, but he didn't react at all. I tried to loudly explain what was going on to the children, hoping that he could hear me and understand that I didn't normally go around hand smacking and yelling NO.

Ironflower calmed down but Lovebug refused to feel better. He screamed the whole way home, even after extricating his hand and being offered snacks, juice and toys. After the last offer was batted away I gave up. I didn't talk or explain or make silly sounds. I didn't point out the cars or the houses or the birds. I just concentrated on not yelling.

I don't know if the old man knows the number for the Department of Children and Family Services, and if they are like the department in the school district where I used to work they will not be very concerned by his story, but I'm preparing myself anyway. I even told Hubby to buy Pampers instead of Target brand diapers, just in case the social worker shows up.

I Want Drew Barrymore To Play Me Today

I've seen Bridezillas. I know wedding has become synonymous with "HUGE production". I know the industry generates billions of dollars. But.

As I perused Hubby's Backstage (a weekly paper filled with auditions) last week, something in the "general" category caught my eye. It was an ad for a "Wedding Officiant/Minister: male or female, character actor with big, charming, outlandish personality, . . . .You will perform short, simple (five-min) improv routine that works with your character, eat lunch at the head table, mingle with guests, create funny situations, get people talking to each other and be slightly outrageous but not offensive."

Apparently, these people want to hire an actor to marry them, rather than run the risk of having a boring officiant. I wonder how this same couple will feel if all the guests show up in sweats or (probably even worse for them) don't dance. This makes me think they've seen one too many episodes of "My Super Sweet Sixteen" on MTV. Next thing you know they'll be hiring Saturday Night Live rejects as guests and "forgetting" to send an invite to boring Aunt Millie.

I've heard about brides who watch their wedding videos over and over. Maybe this IS the next logical step. If you're going to watch something over and over, it might as well be interesting. Of course, that's why there's an entertainment industry. I thought the wedding industry was for embellishing marriage ceremonies. Silly me.

Maybe actors could be hired to spice up all of life's experiences. Why not a dashing young doctor with just the right deep voice to perform your surgery? Or a former LA Law cast member to be your divorce lawyer? Or maybe we could hire actors to fill in for us (didn't Paris Hilton hire one of her own impersonators to fill in for her on The Simple Life once? Why do I know that?) when we don't feel like going to the DMV or getting up early.

Pornography hardly ever turns me on. I guess I'm not very visual. And the guys in straight porn are almost always ugly. So maybe it's just that I'm too visual. Whatever the reason, porn's not my thing.
At the same time, I've never been bothered if my partner looked at porn. I know some women are, and I just don't get it. Porn turns most men on. Men who are turned on like to have sex. They're not going to have sex with porn stars, they're going to have sex with their wives and girlfriends after the viewing. So everybody wins (unless you don't want to have sex with your husband or boyfriend, in which case your relationship has bigger problems than one of you getting turned on by porn). Once a friend complained to me that she was afraid her husband was fantasizing about Jenna Jameson while having sex with her. That would bother me, I admitted. My husband can think about whatever he wants when he's on his own (so to speak), but when he's with me I'd prefer him to think about me. So I suggested that she talk to him about it. "Oh, I couldn't . . .he doesn't even know that I know about his porn collection."
Whoa. Again, this relationship has bigger problems than whether he's thinking about Jenna Jameson or not. How can you be married and not be open about your sexual needs and wants? Why should a guy feel that he has to hide his porn collection? That's like a woman hiding her vibrator. Communicate, people.
For most of the men I've known, porn is equivalent to my crush on Ewan MacGregor. My crush is no threat to my husband, it's just a reminder that I'm not dead. My hubby is never going to look or sound like Ewan, and I'm okay with that.
Although it does make me wonder, if you're married to a porn star or Ewan MacGregor, who do you fantasize about? Normal people?

Ignorant

What image do you get when you hear that word? Do you see some trailer-trash mom filling her baby's bottle with Pepsi? Do you see an atheist? Do you see a Bible-thumper who doesn't believe in evolution? Do you see a Klan member? Do you see a convertible with California plates driving up a mountain pass in January?

We're all ignorant about something. If I got lost in the woods, for example, I wouldn't last a day. Which is why I hike on short trails, carry a cell phone and avoid situations that could get me lost in the woods.

Yet we're all lost in the woods, I think, when it comes to religion. Walk into a typical Christian Church and ask about the Old Testament, the Koran or the Tao and you're going to get a lot of blank looks. So many wars. . .okay, every war. . .has something to do with religion. Many have had everything to do with religion. And yet we are so ignorant of everything but our own faith (and some true believers are even ignorant of their own faith).

Why is it that so many want to remain ignorant about what the rest of the world believes? Why does learning about Islam, or Judaism, or Buddhism scare so many people? Is everyone's faith so tenuous that we can't bear to hear anyone else's opinions?

I guess so. Because not only are we afraid to hear others' opinions, we really don't even want them to exist. It's not just the "terrorists" hating Christians and Jews, or the Sunnis and Shiites duking it out. Evangelical Christians and Mormons still go on missions, don't they? Catholics still like spouses to convert, or at least pledge to raise their children in the Church. We allow politicians to call America a "Christian" nation and no one says much.

I wonder what would happen if we weren't all ignorant. If, for example, everyone believed, as the Hindus do, that all religions were just different paths to God. I learned that in a survey of world religions class in college. I wonder what the world would be like if everyone learned that in kindergarten.