faboo mama

inside the mind of an opinionated mama…

Noisy Kid Toys

One thing I failed to mention in the video was that most of the toys that drive me crazy were actually gifts. If I bother to buy my kids toys that make noise, they’re always educational…okay, except for the Uniqua doll, that one’s just cool. Other than that, the noisy toys we have were gifts. Gifts from childless friends or grandma; people who won’t be living with that noise any time soon. I’ve asked people to give me books or clothes (or gift cards for books or clothes if they don’t want to think about the gift), but you know the excuse they always give, “I just can’t help it!”.

Slice of life

My little boy totally fascinates me. He talks a bit and the randomness of it is hilarious. He also absolutely adores his big sister and acts like any time she’s away from more than 2 mintues is too long. Luckily for me, they play well together. This video is a little long for what it is, but it’s just a slice of my daily life.

Speaking of crazy white bitches

Okay…I know I shouldn’t post that headline, but 1) it does make me laugh and 2) when you read what’s below you’ll even say, “What’s with these crazy white bitches?”, even if you’re a crazy white bitch yourself.

Can you say overboard? Ha!

Last night, I was reading Me, Myself and Eye and I saw a post titled The Blair Witch Mother. I kinda glanced at it, but had planned on ignoring it when I realized it was about Lisa Whelchel of The Facts of Life. Most of you may know that Ms. Whelchel is born again and has spent the last decade or so touring the country testifying. I don’t knock her for that, I still don’t get the born again thing (I’ve never heard of that in my black Baptist and Methodist churches) and it just sounds like she got some Christ-fever going on. Can’t fault her for that.

On one of my birth club boards, there’s a lady who seriously scares the bejesus out of me. This is a person who uses crazy-ass James Dobson’s books as parenting guides. (For those who are lucky enough not to know about this crazy mofo one of his tips to raise tough boys: “He can even take his son with him into the shower, where the boy cannot help but notice that Dad has a penis, just like his, only bigger.” In my world, we call that “child abuse”. And this a nutjob who dares slurs gays with the pedophile tag. Fucker.) When she tells us how she disciplines her kids, I want to call Child Protective Services so bad it’s not even funny. I’ve had to stop visiting the site because sooner or later…okay, sooner I was going to tell this crazy white bitch off.

So, when I saw Sister Toldja’s post on Whelchel, the part that caught my eye was:

“Having a struggle at bedtime? Try this: Next time you’re dealing with the usual bathroom trips, cups of water, giggling, and talking, call off bedtime. Declare, ‘Nobody has to go to bed tonight!’ Inform them that they may stay up as long as they like—the operative words being stay up. Then have each child stand still in the middle of a separate room of the house.”

Say what? I had to scroll back up. What is this? A joke right? It has to be a joke. Turns out Whelchel has written a book on parenting titled Creative Correction and in there she give tips on how to discipline your kids and raise them to be good little foot soldiers in God’s Army.

World o’ Crap shares a post with us:

In addition, Whelchel offers the following: “For lying or other offenses of the tongue, I ’spank’ my kids’ tongues. I put a tiny drop of hot sauce on the end of my finger and dab it onto my child’s tongue. It stings for a while, but it abates. (It’s the memory that lingers!)”

Well cut my legs and call me shorty!  That’s fucked up.  I mean beyond fucked up.  In saner parts of our world, that’s called ‘torture’.  I do everything possible not to have to spank my children and there is no way I’m going to “spank their tongues” with hot sauce.

A book reviewer mentions several disturbing “tips” in the books, one that Sister Toldja mentioned in her post”

Whelchel advises readers to give their children ridiculous commands in public which they must instantly obey without asking any questions, while refusing them permission when they make requests which Whelchel herself admits are perfectly legitimate. She writes: ‘As we walk along together shopping, I will suddenly give them silly commands that they must obey without arguing, such as ‘Walk backward,’ or ‘Stop and touch your toes,’ or ‘Give me a kiss.’ Occasionally I’ll throw in a real command, like ‘Don’t touch that,’ or ‘No, you may not have an Icee.’ My favorite curve, however, is to say no to some reasonable request, like ‘May I go to the bathroom?” (p. 138)


Her “favorite curve” is to deny letting her children take care of a body function?  What the hell is that?  How much does she hate kids?  I mean, I don’t particularly like children, but damn, if my kids need to pee, I’ll let them pee.  My daughter does this thing when we go out, we sit down at the table, order our food and no matter how long it takes to get our food or if she has just gone to the bathroom, guaranteed the moment the food is set down, my kid needs to pee.  Sometimes I’ll make her wait a minute or two to make sure everything is settled, but I could never tell her ‘no’.  Hmmm, maybe if I “spank her tongue” she’ll stop asking…something to think about.

The thing that kills me is that if you go to Whelchel’s site, the suggestions are logical and normal-like:

Forgetting to feed a pet? Try putting her lunch money or lunch bag in a box next to the pet’s cage. That way, your youngster won’t get to eat unless his pet eats first.

Sloppy schoolwork? Buy a printing or cursive workbook from your local teachers supply store. Then ask your child, “What takes longer: a report done neatly in 15 minutes or one you’ve sped through in 10 that must be redone and warrants a page of handwriting practice?”

Toddler independence? If your little one balks at holding your hand while in a parking lot or crossing the street, give him a choice. Remind him, “I can either hold your hand or hold your hair.” Independence isn’t quite so appealing on those terms.

Okay, these aren’t exactly good, but you have to admit they’re more normal than the hot sauce thing.  Over at Amazon, one reviewer posted more Whelchel’s child abuse ideas:

Lisa recommends:
–blindfolding children for an hour if they roll their eyes
–handcuffing quarreling siblings together
–putting quarreling siblings outside, whether it’s 30 degrees or 100 degrees
–making a child wear boxing gloves all day long for hitting; they are not to be removed for eating; as if this isn’t enough torture, she recommends videotaping the child trying to eat popcorn with the boxing gloves. This might be appropriate in the context of a family game night, but not in the context of humiliation and punishment.
–burning a few of the child’s toys if a child is caught playing with matches (what about putting the matches out of reach or doing some standard fire-safety education?)
–pinching a child’s tongue with a clothespin for disrespect
–pouring hot sauce on a child’s tongue
–saying “no to reasonable requests such as ‘may I go to the bathroom’” in the name of keeping children on their toes in terms of obedience
–restraining a one year old in a car seat if the child won’t stay in time out (time out is not appropriate for one year olds to begin with, and, with any child, if time out is not “working,” change your strategy– don’t restrain them!)
–making children stand in the center of the room for a long period of time if they are resisting bedtime (”make it tough” she says)
–making a child close the door quietly, like 100 times, for slamming a door

Those are only a few examples. Lisa also takes Scriptures from Proverbs and turns them into physical punishments. It’s almost as if she flipped through Proverbs looking for Scriptures she could use as physical punishments. And we wonder why an estimated 80% of Christian kids are leaving the faith in college? There is a connection there.

When I was a kid I got spanked.  A lot. My mother’s idea of fun was waking us up at 4am on a Saturday morning and making us clean the house top to bottom because company was coming.  Then around 3pm, she’d joke that she make it up to get it us to clean.   Two weeks after I moved out of the house (first time I got kicked out), my mother called my dorm room at 4:30am asking me where one of her fugly scarves were.  Then she said, “I’ll come by to get you so you can look for it.”  You know my ass stayed in bed.  Fuck that.

My mother has devoted her adult life to acting a fool and being a straight up crazy high yellow bitch.  I do not talk to her at all.   A few months after I had my daughter, I picked up some stuff from my mother’s place.  She said, “Oh, grandmother told me you had a kid. You should all come by so I can see her.”  Like that was going to happen.  I nodded and sped a way.  I didn’t see or hear from her for another two years and that was at my grandmother’s funeral.  She managed to ignore both my husband sitting next to me and my daughter on my lap to tell me some stupid bullshit story…I ain’t never getting those 2 minutes back.

I am 35 years old and I haven’t willingly spoken to my mother for 13 years.  My sister didn’t speak to her for a long time, until her current husband practically forced her to.  My brother doesn’t willingly speak to my mother either.  This is the road that Whelchel is travelling.  She’ll be like my mother a lonely, bitter woman with not even her kids willing to speak to her just because her glee in torturing defenseless children outweighed their need for a burden-free childhood.


My daughter is at that stage where so many things are “secrets”.  That means that she basically just whispers nonsense in your ear. The boy, who can’t even talk, has picked up on that and often has his own secrets to share.  It’s always the same secret.

Wanna know what it is?

Mama.  Daddy. Ya-Ya*.  Ya-Ya.  Mama.  Car. Truck. Car. Daddy. Ya-Ya.  Moon.  Car.

Absolutely riveting, ain’t it?

*Ya-Ya is what he calls Ilia. 

He’s a person

We tend to think of Alton as a baby still, even though he’s 2.  He’s becoming a person, and it’s hilarious listening to him and watching him interact.

Last night, I was out in the garage smoking, because it was pouring down rain.  Amid the spatters of raindrops, I heard the distinctive pater of little feet.  I looked out into the darkness then saw his curly head appear.  Seems he decided to come outside.  With no shoes on.  :/

I quickly picked him up to take him back into the house and as we walked down the driveway, he looked up, “Hey!  Rain!”.

“Yes, rain…that’s why you need to wear shoes.”

“Hey! It wet!” he shouted.

I replied, “Yeah, water tends to be.”

He looked up as rain fell on his face, “Cool!  Mama, rain cool!”.

Tooth Tunes

Because I love a parade and I have kids who were driving me nuts, I thought it would be a good idea for us to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. I have never seen it before and can say that I will never watch it again. There were commercials every 3 minutes and the first hour was an ad for Broadway musicals.

Since I don’t watch TV, I don’t get to see commercials which makes me happy. What makes me sad is when I see commercials for dumb products. Which leads me Tooth Tunes.

You’re appalled too. I know. I watched this thing with my mouth open. Stupified that someone figured that toothbrushing was so incredibly boring for kids that having crappy music blasted into your head would solve the problem. You know you fully expect some Hasbro proproganda PR:

We know…getting your kids to brush their teeth can be a daily battle. Not any more! TOOTH TUNES is a revolutionary toothbrush for kids that makes brushing their teeth fun and entertaining.

Your kids will love brushing their teeth to hit songs from some of their favorite artists. As sound vibrations stream from the bristles through their teeth, they hear the music in their heads. But, when they take the bristles off their teeth, the music stops playing in their head. So they’ll actually want to keep brushing for a full two minutes!

A look at the website for this year’s Pet Rock shows kids rockin’ out while brushing their teeth. Quickly scrolling through the artist list makes me happy that the Disney channel is banned in my house and we don’t listen to commercial radio.

Look, I have a toddlers, 2 and 4 and while they both love to brush their teeth, keeping them still is my biggest challenge. The little girl just wants to look at herself in the mirror and the little boy has to close the toilet lid, then get in the tub. If I get music involved, that just means that not only will they want to brush their teeth 40 times a day instead of the usual 10, but they’ll never stay in the bathroom!

The trials and tribulations of being 4

Ilia is supposed to be taking her nap. For the past hour, she’s devised ways of getting out of it. We finally put her in our bedroom only to hear her crying to go potty. I let her go to the bathroom and thought nothing of it. About 5 minutes later I heard Adrian yelling at her to get into bed. I came into the house to see him blotting blood off her face and asking her how she cut herself. We narrowed it down that it wasn’t her or Alton.

I took her into the bathroom to get some peroxide on her cuts. She was bleeding under her nose and on her bottom lip. Strange cuts. I kept asking her how she cut it thinking that taking her back to the scene of the crime would jog her memory. I cleaned and applied pressure to the cut. As I did that, I noticed black hairs on her face. Strange. I wiped them away and let my eyes dart around the room to see what could have been the culprit. Nothing. When I took the tissue away from her face I noticed the telltale cuts of a razor. Aha. Then I saw it. Way up high on the built-in was a blue razor.

I asked Ilia, “Did you use mommy’s razor?”
“Ilia. Tell the truth. [picking up the razor] Did you cut yourself with this?”
Ilia, round-eyed and backing away wailed, “That’s daddy’s razor!”
Now, I’m kind of smiling because of the semantics. I held it up again and asked her to look at me. “Ilia. You need to tell mommy the truth. Mommy and daddy don’t like it when you lie. Did you cut yourself with this?”
She looked at me, looked at the razor and started crying. She walked back to the tissues, “That’s daddy’s razor!”
I can’t get over how stubborn she is.
I asked again, but got no answer. Fine. She knew she was busted and felt bad enough. I betcha now she’ll stay in bed.

So. Who wants to babysit?

HAHAHA…we really, really, really need to find a babysitter. This is getting ridiculous. One of the featured videos on YouTube today is Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings “100 Days, 100 Nights”, off their new record of the same name.

Wow. The song kicks some serious rump, but whoa, that band is awesome and you just know Ms. Jones was feelin’ it.

Well, I want to see them. I found out they’re playing the El Rey on December 4th. All of this brings me back to the fact that we need a babysitter. I can look at it like this: I have a little over a month to find someone the kids like and I trust. But that’s money right there. Money we don’t necessarily have at the moment. Times like this, I wish I had friends I could count on or at least family nearby!

Book complaining

I’m always in awe of people who want complain about children’s books. I mean, I got other things to worry about. If I spent most of my time complaining about books that sucked (Coulter, Hannity and O’Reilly sludge come to mind), then I’d have no time for important stuff. As far as kiddie books are concerned, it seems to me that most of them that receive complaints are usually pretty good books, but leave it fringe groups like AFA to focus on the stuff that doesn’t affect them directly. The book that received the most complaints so far this year is titled And Tango Makes Three, a true story about two male penguins who kick it together all the time and raise a baby penguin.

I’m sure you remember the book hoopla from MA about parents being pissed off about the book being available. I immediately got the book and couldn’t see what the fuss was about. Maybe it’s just me, but I didn’t read the book as having “homosexual undertones”, I saw it as two guys, best friends who did everything together. I’m sure I’m in the minority in that view. Now, reading the article, you have people being utterly “polite” in the, “there’s nothing wrong with being gay, as long as they don’t flaunt it” stripe (I hate those people). But this is American, where nutjobbiness abounds and they call that the Republican base. Here’s some tripe from a “concerned” parent:

My wife unwittingly sat down to read it with the kids, halting the story midway. We later found out that our 6 year-old had already read it. We spent an hour undoing the damage (ed. note: HAHAHAHA) and it ruined not just storytime but the whole evening. My 6 year-old readily understood that the book was wrong. In fact, he knew when he read the book that it was talking nonsense and that it wasn’t right. My daughter was unnerved to discover that same-sex couples, apparently in all species, can adopt children.

Oh noes! Teh gays are raising kids! What will we tell the children? Idiots like this kill me. I mean, the kids of gay parents understand what’s going on. Why would it be so hard to explain it to their own children? Are their kids such complete and total morons that they can not understand the concept of two mommies? But read the passage this guy wrote. What kind of twit just starts reading a book to their kids without reading it first? I may be busy, but I’ll be damned if I just start reading crap to my 4 year old without vetting it. Okay, I’m running into rant mode…Anyway, there are idiots and this guy is clearly in their ranks. Maybe Grand Dunce or something.

I think that I’m pretty lucky to not only have LGBT friends, but many of them are in loving and long-term relationships. My kids get to grow up seeing different types of relationships and learning that people can love each other and be different than one another and still get along. Despite all the gender conditioning she’s getting at school (I can’t stand that crap either), my daughter completely understands that Todd and Frank are together just like mommy and daddy. That’s all she needs to know right now. She’s 4. As she gets older, then she’ll get a little more information. That’s the root of the problem. You’re not going to teach your 4 year old about birth control, so I don’t know why these people act like they have to get into detail about gay couples. Silly.

The Messy House

BitchPhD posts about the flickr pool of messy homes, or rather “real” people’s homes. Not the psychotically clean and sterile homes you see in the pages of Dwell or BHG. The comments are delicious in that people talked about their messy homes, yet acknowledged that when company comes, they still apologize for the mess. I posted how my mother (aka Miss Hannigan) used to make us clean the house from top to bottom when company would come. She never cleaned, usually just lording over us from the sofa or her bed. We’d spend days scrubbing to her exacting “standards”. Usually this meant doing it over and over and over again to some perceived missed item. To add insult to injury, when company did come, my asshole mom would say, “Oh, sorry about the mess, I tried to get the kids to help me clean, but you know how they are.” Evil.

So, I have my own house and my own messy husband. We split the chores and ideally if we each kept up our ends, our house probably would be cleaner. The split goes:

  • Dishes
  • Cooking
  • Grocery shopping
  • Nightshift with the kids
  • Taking the trash out


  • Laundry (washing, folding AND putting the stupid clothes away)
  • Bathroom
  • Morning shift with the kids
  • Outside
  • Dusting/Cleaning glass surfaces
  • Handyman

Like I said, neither of us really keep up our end of the bargain. I have to beg my husband daily to wash the flippin’ dishes, every other week, he nags me about having no underwear. So if we both held to our ends of the bargain, the trashcans in the bathroom would be emptied more often, there wouldn’t be a ginormous pile of clothes in our bedroom, we wouldn’t have stacks of cups and glasses on the side of the sink and there’d actually be meal-worthy food in our cupboards.

Notice that the common living areas have not been mentioned. We both clean them on our own volition and they stay pretty clean for the most part. Yes, there’s Cheerios everywhere and milk stains all over, but we sweep weekly and really think hard about mopping occasionally. As for the kids’ room, well I’m trying to deal with Destructo-Alton, but I’m really freakin’ tired of picking up all the toys and books only to have him empty the boxes and shelves when he gets home. I’m also trying to deal with Princess Ilia, but I’m really freakin’ tired of picking up all her clothes only to have her try to change 5 times between getting home at 7pm and bedtime at 9pm.

I do plan on cleaning today. In fact, I sat down at my desk to clean it off. I got on the computer to get some music going, but now I’m blogging. That’s 30 min. down the drain already. I’ll take some pics and post them as an addendum to this entry. Maybe some before and after shots. Beware, it may take days to do that.