How did I use Darth Vader to prevent tardiness at my house?
Go to my new site and read all about it! Don’t forget to sign up to follow the new blog, since this one will be ignored more and more. 😉
How did I use Darth Vader to prevent tardiness at my house?
Go to my new site and read all about it! Don’t forget to sign up to follow the new blog, since this one will be ignored more and more. 😉
Comic books are awesome! When I was little, I was so happy when we would get to buy them. I still have one of my very first comic books. It was Disney’s Scamp (Tramp and Lady’s errant son). My sister and I had a few others with that same level of fun and silliness.
Then there was my Thundercats stage, which coincided with my Spider-Man stage but didn’t last as long. I read DC comics, too, (Wonder Woman, mostly).
There is something to be said about kids and literacy and comic books–they can only encourage kids to read. I found this great article by Charlie Brooks, a geek dad, about getting younger kids to read by using comic books. He has good suggestions for comics that are kid friendly (and not violent and oversexed as some of the superhero and supervillain ones are).
What’s not to love about comic books? They are colorful and action packed and feed imaginations in ways that books and movies can’t. Comic books give visual clues that we don’t get from novels and yet still leave more to the imagination than TV or movies. They can be a good gateway to reading books. (A gateway to reading, not drugs…sheesh.)
When I stumbled on the new My Little Pony comic books, I knew I had to get them. My kids don’t need encouragement to read, but they love the My Little Pony humor. I bought the first one and gave it to the girls to share. They loved it. This geek mom was so proud. *wipes eyes*
When it was time to get the next one, I tried to get them to go to the comic book store with me. Mockingbird looked at me as if I’d grown another head. Armadillo, on the other hand, squeed and said, “Comic books! Yea!”
At least one of my daughters is mine. 😉
The latest thing about comic books is to make at least three different covers for every edition. What? You want me to choose which cover I want? I want them all!
Since buying more than one copy is not a viable option (unless it’s Spider-Man #700…*whistles and walks away*), I let Armadillo pick the cover she wanted. Do you think you can guess which cover she picked?
I’ll reveal the answer later this week. 😀
Are you a comic book fan? If so, what have been your favorite titles?
After the super, heavy seriousness of my recent deathmatch with my dishwasher, I think we all need something light and fluffy.
If you’ve got kiddos, there is a really good chance that he or she has a favorite shirt. One that they want to wear and wear and wear, even when it’s two sizes too small. The Armadillo loved these two My Little Pony shirts. She cried both times when they didn’t fit anymore. So I saved them.
The daughter of one of my friends loves to sew and design, so I asked if she would convert the shirts into pillows. She did a fabulous job, don’t you think? And Armadillo loves them and keeps them on her bed.
Some people collect their cherished baby and toddler clothes and make them into quilts. My friend told me that she saw one that was a pieced quilt. All the onesies and shirts were cut up into pieces, some of them even had tiny babyfood stains. Cute, right?
What about you? Do you have a favorite thing from your childhood or your children’s childhood that you’ve saved or converted into something else?
How did this revelation take place?
We were talking about vacations: ones we’ve taken and ones we’d like to take. Hawai’i was in the middle of the mix because family friends go nearly every year. The car reference was based on renting a car once on the island–My little one heard only part of the conversation. She thought I wanted to drive there. (D’oh!) LOL.
OK, Smartypants, if you can’t drive to Hawai’i, then how can you get there? By plane or boat, of course.
I don’t know about you and your family, but we have a how-to-travel debate often. One doesn’t want to fly. One does want to fly. Another goes cross-eyed looking at airfares for a family of four. The last cringes at the driving route across several states.
So, the thought of taking a boat to Hawai’i…. I can’t even fathom it. An expensive, long cruise on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean doesn’t sound like fun to me.
My BFF has taken a few driving trips halfway across the states, crisscrossing and site seeing for weeks at a time. A different hotel every night. A different adventure everyday. If driving to Hawai’i was an option, I bet her family would do it.
Whew! I’m already tired.
So my daughter asked if we ever went to Hawai’i would we take a boat or a plane, as if there was a choice. I wiped tears of laughter off my face. Did she really ask me that?
Where do you want to travel and how would you get there? Have you already been on an adventure that included different modes of transportation? Would you ever travel that way again?
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for Mermaids Don’t Do Windows.
In the almost six months that I’ve been blogging, here are my top 5 posts and my theories for why they made the list:
These fabulous people were my top 5 commenters. I love their blogs. I hope you check them out:
So what’s in store for Mermaids Don’t Do Windows in 2013?
Happy New Year to you all!
Thanks for stopping by. I’d love to hear what you have going on for the new year.
If you’ve seen Bambi (who hasn’t?), you know that “twitterpated” is the word Friend Owl uses to tell the young animals that spring is coming and they will fall in love.
The three friends, Bambi, Thumper, and Flower, promise never to lose their friendship
sanity just because of the shininess of the first pretty girl they see of their species.
I’ve been twitterpated by the shininess Twitter (@DianaBeebeTX, if you want to follow). Can you believe it?
My use of the social media shiny is limited to a few friends, my alma mater (gotta keep up with the Frogs!), and my widening circle of writing friends. I don’t follow any shows or celebrities, except Dr. Horrible because…well, just because. I live in a fairly small, sheltered bubble. I also try to think before I post. I hope I have not forsaken my sanity for the shiny that Twitter holds.
Free technology. No free lunch!
When I went to open house at my daughter’s high school, one of her teachers encouraged the students to follow his class (not him personally) on Twitter. They could ask him questions about homework and projects.
I’m not ready for my daughter to be on Facebook. She certainly isn’t going to be on Twitter any time soon. (Thank goodness the Anti-Teenager is OK with that.)
So why was I surprised to hear that a student (already in trouble for drinking on campus) tweeted that she was going to attack another girl at school? And she did attack her in a hallway.
A few days later, some students thought it would be “fun” to act up in the halls. Rumor in the school is that it was a flash mob attempt, started on Twitter. The school now has strict class change procedures with teachers lining the halls, one way stairwells, and extra security in the building.
Because a few young teenagers misused Twitter and acted on the misuse. Did they get twitterpated by the shiny of tweeting–can’t see beyond their little circle of tweeps like Thumper who wondered off with the first cute girl rabbit who batted her eyelashes at him? Did they think that no one else would see that one tweet because of an @ mention to a specific person? Not a lot of thought goes into that kind of twittiness.
This was not an Arab Spring. There was no higher purpose. There were kids misbehaving and making the school miserable for the rest of the students. According to the school, two students were arrested (no details were given, of course). Public tweets and videoed assaults are hard evidence though. Students were told more trouble would follow if anything else was posted.
You would think that as tech savvy as teens are these days that they would also understand that what they post is out there. They can’t take it back on Twitter. Their thoughts, motivations, and pictures are there for all the world to see. Their teachers and potential employers can see it, too.
New users on Twitter are not that different than a teenager in lurve for the first time. Now give Twitter to a teen who doesn’t realize that more people than the tweeps who follow them can see what they post, or maybe they don’t care.
I remember being twitterpated in high school. I didn’t always think through my actions when I was in lurve. *bats eyelashes* Thank goodness I didn’t have to deal with social media as a kid…
As someone fairly new to Twitter, I still wonder if something I post makes me sound like a twit. I’m not so new to being twitterpated that I hit send everytime I think of something to post. Twitty and witty are two different things.
Until Mission Impossible technology catches on, what gets tweeted is out there for the world to read.
There are companies out there that are creating “This message will self-destruct” applications. You pick the time table–5 seconds or 6 days. An article on NPR about a startup called Wickr that is doing this for iThings.
The technology isn’t there for everyone to use yet. So until our emails, tweets, and Facebook posts can self-destruct, we need to teach our kids how to behave. If you know teenagers who are twitterpated with Twitter, please make sure they are using it wisely. Heck, make sure that you’re using it wisely, too.
That’s not always easy when adults in high government positions get caught in scandals because of things they’ve posted. They were twits twitterpated by their own perceived cyberspace bubbles. You know who they are.
If you’re a parent of teens, do you even know if your child is on Twitter? If so, are you following him or her? Are you monitoring phone and web activity?
All the left-overs are long gone, and I’m emerging from my status of missing in action for the last week or so. I won’t bore you with the details–everyone has that list from time to time that keeps them busy with life.
The weekend after Thanksgiving is when our Christmas decorations explode across the house.
Maybe not, explode. Two rooms and the front yard, tops.
The girls have finally gotten to the ages when they can take over putting all the decorations on the tree. Together. Just the two of them. Without supervision. Without mediation.
With some mediation and several breaks from each other.
Every year, they pick two (or three) ornaments that they love. These ornaments usually represent something they experienced or loved during the year. For both of them, the tempation to buy the Lego Darth Vader was strong within them. But they resisted the dark side.
Daughter 2 picked polar bears, penguins, and kittens. There are two series of ornaments that she’s collecting. Daughter 1 picked the puppy and horse that go with her two series. She also picked something else. It makes a geek mom proud.
If the store had the Hulk, she would have picked him. I was surprised that she passed up Thor and Darth Vader. I wasn’t surprised that she ignored Spider-Man (even though it crushed me on the inside).
She picked the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man from Ghostbusters. He hangs with a Santa looking over him to keep him out of trouble. I hope no one pushes the button on his side too often. I can hear the theme song to the movie only so many times before I go crazy. 🙂
The girls decorated the tree. They took breaks when the older one sensed that they might kill each other over pre-lighted bough territory. After all, the carousel animal ornaments must hang on the same side of the tree. Together. In the same place.
Ahem. The tree is beautiful, because my girls decorated it together. I just put on the little ornaments at the top where neither can reach.
Speaking of the top, I have no tree topper. I just can’t find one that I like. My tree is topperless for the second year in a row. I hate to even admit that my tree is topperless. It is. Do I want to replace the pitiful angel that used to be the topper? Or, do I want a star? There are too many choices out there. (Maybe I’m too picky or frugal or something.)
The rest of the ornaments are a mix from my husband’s childhood and things I’ve collected from trips we’ve taken. There are also some antique, handmade ornaments that my grandmother used to hang on her tree. It’s an ecclectic tree, but we think it’s beautiful.
When do you decorate for the holidays? Do you have any special decorations or traditions?
For ROW80, I haven’t checked in for at least a week. Sigh. Here’s where I am:
Welcome to another TINSTAAFL Tuesday. Today it’s all about Spider-Man villains and how they got that way.
In case you don’t already know, Spider-Man is my all-time favorite comic book hero. I even subscribed to all four Spider-Man comic book titles in the late 1980s until the late 1990s. I still have them all in boxes in my closet. I don’t have much room for clothes.
In celebration of Spider-Man’s birthday on October 14, he gets two posts. Spider-Man has lots of enemies. So many, in fact, that this will be a two-part series to talk about the ones whose origins can be traced to the use of an experimental drug, substance, or technology. In all cases, these men were already, um, ethically challenged due to the incredibly terrible or lack of parenting they received as children.
I really want to tell these guys to grow up and look at themselves as the source of their problems, but they are the antagonists who must exist for Peter Parker to exist. I love what Kristen Lamb says about conflict–no conflict, no story.
Instead, I’ll just yell, “TINSTAAFL!” at them for being stupid enough to be human experiments in the first place. There are many, many more villains, but the rest didn’t have superpowers or were minor evil-doers or weren’t created by an experiment gone wrong. They may have been badly parented though. That seems to be a big theme in comic books in the 1960s.
These are the ones that were created before I was born and what I have to say to them:
When the Chameleon was first created, he was master of disguise with no special powers. Due to a terrible childhood, he felt unloved and ignored. *cue sad music* That’s really not a good excuse to join a life of crime.
Using a serum so you could make your skin change anyway you want it to? Gross. Also, Spider-Man keeps stopping you because you’re not very bright. Here’s a hint. When you are impersonating someone and that person’s loved ones talk to you, then you should at least pretend to recognize them. Duh. Go, Mary Jane, with the baseball bat to your sad-looking skull!
Another sad little boy with a terrible upbringing, Otto Octavius went from a brilliant scientist to megalomaniac. A freak accident in his lab fused his four-armed apparatus to his spine.
Doc Ock, you have some Mommy issues that therapy couldn’t help. I’m not sure what to make of it when Spider-Man clobbered you into a fear of spiders and then let you clobber him later to get over it. I think I preferred your spider-fearing, gibbering self and Spidey is too good to you. And still you try to kill him. *tsk tsk* I’m still not sure how you get your lab coat to stay on.
When life-time criminal, William Baker, ran into an atomic testing site during a test, he got blasted into smithereens on the beach. I guess the experiment reactor was powerful because all his molecules fused with the sand. Great, now a criminal is a super criminal and can make his body into any shape.
Sandman, there were “Do not enter” signs on that beach for a reason. *shakes head* You do have some redeeming qualities (you loved your mother), but I still think you’re a little shifty.
When is injecting yourself with experimental reptilian serum ever a good idea? Never. Just ask Doctor Curt Connors. While serving as a military doctor, he lost an arm. He spent years trying to find a way to grow his arm back.
Curt, your first mistake was ignoring your wife’s warning not to do it. She loved you and accepted you the way you were. Your next mistakes were the additional experiments that failed to cure you and spawned other creatures. The first failed experiment that turned you into a psychotic lizard wasn’t enough proof for you? Sadly, you let Lizard destroy your humanity and turn your son into a little lizard boy so he could live with you in the sewers. So. Not. Cool.
Another sad, sad childhood–I sense a theme here, Marvel–for Norman Osborn. As an adult, Norman owned a chemical company. After a failed experiment on an employee, Norman found his business partner’s notes about the experimental serum that should increase a person’s strength. He tested the unstable chemical on himself. Hmmmm….that’s not going to end well–an already unbalanced man using an unstable chemical.
Norman, quit picking on your son Harry. He’s a good kid and wants to make you proud, which got him nothing but crazy later because you couldn’t love him for who he was. Mean, mean, meanie pants.
Mac Gargan was a private investigator who J. Jonah Jameson hired to catch Peter Parker getting the great pictures of Spider-Man. When he couldn’t do the job, Jameson paid him to take an experimental drug (Don’t do it!) that would give him characteristics of a scorpion. Goodbye humanity, goodbye sanity.
I suppose in 1964, $10,000 was enough money to turn yourself into a psychotic humanoid-scorpion, Mac. Then, later, you take on the alien symbiote, Venom? Mac, you should’ve run at “experimental” (and later at “alien”).
I’m not sure Mark Raxton had anyone in his life to tell him that a life of crime doesn’t pay. Guess what? Raxton had family abandonment issues, too. Yawn. When he tried to steal the experimental metallic alloy that he helped create (as part of a weapon to be used against Spidey, no less), the stuff spilled all over him. Ooops. I have no words for that kind of stupid.
A Russian thug, Aleksei Sytsevich, subjected himself to chemical and radiation treatments conducted by more Russian thugs. I wonder if he knew their plan to give him rhinocerous-like armor that he could never take off. Considering that he was chosen because of his lack of intelligence, I’m sure that never crossed his mind. I hate to think of the chafing under that armor.
Deep down, you really are a softie at heart, so I feel a little sorry for you. Aleksei, quit trying to change yourself. Experimental treatments that transform your body are not the fast or smart way to strength, power, or money. You did right when you turned yourself stupid again after your high IQ experiment made you realize that being smarter than your girlfriend was not a good idea. Stupid wins this time.
Next week, I’ll tell you about the TINSTAAFL Tuesday-worthy supervillains who began to torment my favorite neighborhood Spider-Man in the 1970s onward. Things start changing when the comic book codes allow certain types of creatures onto the pages. Stay tuned!
Do you have a favorite supervillain that you love or love to hate? Would you sacrifice your humanity to have superpowers for any nefarious reasons?
Also, we’re down to the last few days of Ponyfest12. Jump over to Rebecca Enzor’s very lovely blog and vote for my Marce pony entry. I’d love to win a stack of books and a custom-made pony to represent my main character. 🙂
Another title I thought of for this post was “I’ve Created a Monster.” However, I decided that it really is about keeping a promise, no matter how small.
When my younger daughter saw the Marce and Kevvan ponies I made for PonyFest12, she wanted to make some, too. I’d intentionally not shown her my ponies or the Pony Creator website, because I knew she would be all over it.
She caught me working on my last-minute brony entry and then hovered while I updated my PonyFest12 entry post. Starting October 5, you can vote for my entry and get your friends to vote, too. *hint, hint* *nudge, nudge*
“What is that?” she asked. She pointed at the Marce pony.
I told her that it was the other pony I made.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “You made two ponies?” Her voice said it all: “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”
I know where this was going. She wanted that website under her control. I told her that I was updating my blog with my new pony and she’d have to wait.
“Oh, I know what a blog is. It’s where people put stuff and write stuff.”
Very eloquent. I’m not sure how she knew that.
“So are you going to put mine on there, too?” she asked.
Hmmm…. “Not on this post,” I said. She deflated before my eyes. “How about if I make a new post for your ponies?”
That perked her up. “Right now?”
All this was going on while I wrote a description of my Kevvan brony. “Let me finish this post first. Then, I’ll work on one for your ponies. Will that work for you?”
She squeeeeeeed with joy and bounded off to play. When I finished my update, she took over the computer for about an hour to create two very pink ponies. I find it hilarious that she made them nearly identical after she started from a random selection both times.
She’s made a few more since, including her recreation of Princess Luna.
A promise is a promise, no matter how small or how young the child.
I hope you’ll go over to Rebecca Enzor’s blog and vote for my pony entry for PonyFest12. Vote as often as you can so I can win a custom-made pony! 😉
What was the silliest or smallest promise a child asked you keep? Have you made a child any promises that you found hard to keep? Share in the comments!
Since most people can’t afford to buy new clothes everyday, laundry is a necessary chore. Here at Mermaids Don’t Do Windows, the clothes, sheets, and towels do have to get washed. Until a laundry fairy starts doing ours, somebody has to do it.
The Husband rarely does laundry. I banned him for life shortly after we got married. His idea of washing everything in hot water didn’t sit well with the few nice things that I owned at the time. I’m sure it was his evil master plan to get out doing of laundry altogether.
Daughter 1 does most of her own laundry, but she can’t sort colors to save her life. She puts bright colors in the whites all the time. “I didn’t know which basket to put those in.” Drives me crazy. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll throw her clothes in with the rest, but she has to put them away. It’s not my problem if she can’t find something or her clothes are dirty. She is 14.
Daughter 2 is too short to reach the controls. When she’s tall enough and/or pushes me over the edge about how her clothes are done, then she’ll be assimilated, too. For now, she helps with simple tasks.
The other day, a friend asked me to choose between my washer or dryer. She did not just ask me to choose which child to keep, did she?
I know that the appliances aren’t children, but don’t ask me to choose. They get sold in matching sets for a reason. The Maytags I have now are the first matching set I’ve ever owned. When we got them several years ago, we called them the Rolls Royce and Bentley. They even have luxury features (the sales guy sold them to my husband with promises of wrinkle release settings). I’m not choosing between them.
Every once in a while, someone will complain about the wrinkles. Wrinkles? No, those are dryer laugh lines. I’ve tried to get shirts out when damp and warm, but the wrinkle fairies live in the dryer (and they probably eat socks when they get hungry). Wrinkle release spray is my only hope of defeating them until the laundry fairies arrive. I thought that the wrinkle prevent setting on the Rolls Royce and wrinkle release settings on the Bentley were supposed eliminate my wrinkle problems.
What? Use an iron? *scoffs* Mermaids don’t iron. Heck, my iron is the same one I had in college. It has my maiden name written on the bottom in permanent marker and black electrical tape on the cord where my roommate’s illegal pet rabbit chewed the cord.
Daughter 2 helped me change the sheets on her bed last week, and she noticed the wrinkles. “Aren’t you going to iron those sheets?” Who taught her that?! How does she even know what an iron is at 6 years of age? When she’s old enough and can figure out how to unfold the ironing board, she can iron her own sheets.
While I wait for that laundry fairy to take over the washing, drying, ironing, folding, and putting away chores and to save me from my wrinkly bad habits, here are my laundry demands for Daughter 1:
I’m a separater. I can’t even lump the dogs’ bath towels with the family’s bath towels.
What are your laundry habits (good or bad)? Do you have pet peeves about cleaning clothes? Do you make your children do their own laundry or participate for the common good of the entire family? Are you a lumper or a separater: Do you throw everything into one load (who cares about the colors), or separate all loads by colors and types? I’d love to hear from you.