As with all things lately, infoMania saved my sense of humor. The night that I finished my review and had my crisis of identity, Conor Knighton introduced me to a TLC show called “I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant,” complete with a re-enactment of a mom who thought she was constipated, took an enema (prescribed by her frickin’ doctor. Seriously, he couldn’t be bothered to do a little palpation?), then had the, ahem, movement of her life. You can tell it’s the crap of her life because her husband is standing in the doorway of the bathroom the whole time. The day my husband stands in the doorway while my bowels are moving better be the day I move into a nursing home. When she’s done, she’s all, “Whew, I didn’t think I was gonna make it,” and her husband is like, “Way to go, sexy!” And then we hear a little mew and she says, “Did you hear that?”

*spoiler alert*

You guys, her baby was in the potty.

PS What is wrong with TLC?

So infoMania showed me that and then they showed me this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=To2XSGRr0BE

And I laughed so hard, I thought I might give birth but I knew I wasn’t pregnant so I thought maybe I would just poo. Thank you infoMania! The best part is Sarah Haskins’ bit at about 59 seconds in. Also, when the announcer gives a promo for 2 other TLC shows, I get the feeling that those were both working titles for some TLC shows that are on the air right now. Seriously, TLC, what is wrong with you?

Turns out, I’m still immature; I just didn’t like that book. Yay!

I’m taking my immaturity on the road today in order to share it with my mom and my brother and his family in West Virginia “only 8 miles in from Maryland,” as my brother likes to say when I tell him my friends fear for our safety on West Virginian roads. My sister-in-law, Tracy, is the queen of poopy humor and they have 3 sons, so I’ll be in good company. She and I are going to run a 5-mile race on Saturday in MARYLAND, while my sister, Tracey, and her friends run the Crim 10-miler in Michigan. Good luck, everybody! And remember what you learned today: If you have cramps, don’t risk gassing because you’ll probably poo!

Speaking of proselytizing, I gave up Twitter. I thought I maybe didn’t need both Twitter and Facebook, but I was wrong. Facebook is different and, until Michael Ian Black friends me on Facebook, I still need Twitter. I don’t have words to say how it’s different because I haven’t run yet this morning so there are still cobwebs in the shape of snowman Jesus in my brain, but it’s just different. Twitter has more back and forth and stuff. I don’t know. I like it. And even when SuperNews made fun of it, I missed it. I felt bad about myself, but I missed it so I’m on it again.

Alright, cobwebs are becoming more cobwebby so I have to run now. I’m putting it off today because I really, really need new shoes. I’ll get them today, but I have to run one more day in my old ones.

Just remember, kids, Snowman Jesus hates global warming.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-Omm5CPIOI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocIhpOYXAMI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9Xt1DyJZso

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQHvbVsD9NQ

Other than that, the kids and I snuggled up to watch and review the movie version of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas last night. It was so good and so terrible. We all sobbed and cuddled for a long time afterward. No happy endings in The Holocaust, FYI. Lena and Liberty have done their part of the review, but I still have to get it uploaded and posted on Kids Know Stuff. Maybe tomorrow while they’re at gym. But you guys should all totally go get that dvd. It’s the best. And the worst. I haven’t read the book, though, so my opinion is based solely on the movie. I wasn’t sure about having the kids watchit, but I decided that they would be able to handle it with the constant talking and going over everything that you know I like to do. And I think it’s ok to cry during movies about the Holocaust. Super ok in fact, and, while my instinct is to protect my children from sadness, I also know it’s important to feel those feelings and understand that time in history as it relates to racism, sexism, and heterosexism today. It’s important to be sad about it, to be disgusted by it, to be enraged by it, and to understand the slippery slope of THIS is right and THAT is wrong. It’s the slipperiest of slopes.

*sigh* It was a good movie.

I have to go back to my new house now and unpack more boxes. I’m going to skip all the way there, singing, “Tra la la!” Just so you know.

I don’t need movies that are based on books to be exactly the same as the books, but when we all fall in love with a little girl protagonist who really and truly saves the day in the book all by herself, well, we want her to really and truly save the day and not be saved by a character who wasn’t in the book at all and was hardly in the movie enough to warrant his role in the very end of the movie. The ending of the book was clever with the picnic and the well, and it showed how bright and heroic Coraline was. It was important to me that the ending of the movie show her in the same light. It did not. Yes, Coraline is heroic and spunky and tough in the other 1 hour and 39 minutes of the 1 hour and 40 minute movie, but that ending? It hurt me. It hurt my girls and it hurt all girls. (I would like to point out here that my instinct is to apologize for my feelings because, well, I don’t want to seem oversensitive, but I will resist the urge to apologize because I feel well and truly wronged on behalf of my gender and my instinct to apologize for that feeling is only proof of why we need more movies where the girl saves the day. The whole day, not just most of the day or some of the day, but the whole effing day. Ok?)It would have been better if Wybie had helped her with the things she had to do leading up to the big and final thing that had to be done, but the fact that he swooped in and actually did the big and final thing, well, that’s just not right. Some will point out that the character of Mr. Bobinsky says something like, “Coraline, the mice tell me that you’re our savior!” which is nice, but that does not make it ok. In the book, that line fit well, but in the movie you think, Um, actually, didn’t Wybie save the day? In light of Wybie’s role in ridding the world of the thing, Mr. Bobinsky’s comment sounds a little bit hollow.

Coraline’s ingenuity at the end of the book took my breath away. It was a great idea, carried out by her and her alone and all of us girls in this house were delighted to have found a character like her. The ending of the movie left us with mixed feelings. It was a truly beautiful and amazing movie, technically speaking, and we’re glad Coraline was heroic, but it really seemed unnecessary to end it that way. Lena and Liberty do not feel as strongly about this as I do, of course, and I really hesitated about even saying anything about it in front of them. I knew they enjoyed the movie, and I didn’t want to ruin that for them, but I just couldn’t resist asking them what they thought of the ending. I pointed out the sexism, and I’m not sorry. Why should they be inundated with the idea that a boy will save the day without being taught to question that idea? I’m off to read the book again so the true Coraline can live on in my head.

As a side note, Lena, Liberty, and Maya were excited to hear the movie Coraline say she was from Pontiac, Michigan. That was fun and they all gasped and turned to whisper, “Did you hear that?” Funny.

I never ever have the urge to pay full price to go to the movies. I always wait until they’re at the dollar theater. Actually, we only see kids movies at the dollar theater. Bryan and I like to watch movies over the course of a couple of nights in the comfort of our own bed, falling asleep and saying, “I was just resting my eyes; I heard everything.” We’re sexy like that.  However, I will spend all of my pennies and sacrifice my physical comfort in order to see Coraline next weekend. Not Friday night (I’m not a billionaire!), but definitely a matinee on Saturday or Sunday.

Kids Know Stuff has had a few hits from people searching things like, “Coraline too scary for kids” or “Coraline and kids” because of Lena’s review of Coraline in graphic novel form. I can say that it most definitely would have been too scary for Lena and Liberty even just a couple of years ago at 7, but it’s not too scary for Maya at 5. Maya came out of the womb fearless and in charge. Lena and Liberty were immediately enamored and afraid of her. Maya cemented their fear by spitting up on Lena the first time she held her. She has ruled over them ever since.

Lena and Liberty used to be afraid of  Snow White, scary music, kids shows with suspense, implied violence, puppets, dogs, cats, hamsters, shoes that light up, jack-in-the-boxes, fish tanks, the toy aisle at Meijer, the washing machine, the dryer, play dough, yogurt, and stuffed animals. Oh, and Koosh balls. But now they love violence. And they want to kill puppets. That doll in the video? Liberty giggled when her mouth got torn up. Maya immediately tried to do it to one of her dolls. I covered my eyes and I will probably have a bad dream about it. Anyway, we’ll go see Coraline and Maya will come with us because the only thing she fears is the day that Lena and Liberty suddenly realize that she’s not the boss of them.

Anyway, now I’m going to the grocery store without my kids because I spend less money that way. Also, if they don’t come with me, I don’t have to undo all of the damage that the magazines at the checkout line do. This article (ok, one more link) at Racialicious talks about one kind of issue that needs to be undone, but I also have to work really hard to undo the images caused by headlines like, “Stolen in the Night! Why Your Child isn’t Safe at Home,” or “What You Need to Know about the Dangers of Breathing Air!” or “What Would Your Child Do if You Died Right Now? It Happens EVERY DAY! You, Yes You Reading This…You Could be ORPHANED!” My kids don’t like that crap. And I’m not good at assuaging fear since I’m a Fearful Fannie, too. It’s likely that we could very well end up huddled on the floor, crying and holding each other after a trip to the checkout lane. If they’re not with me, I don’t read the headlines and I can go on living in my little bliss bubble. Ta-ta!