Heather’s Mouthy Housewife BlogHer Party for One
This video was recorded in front of a live studio audience. Of my cats. Many thanks to JVC, a Mouthy Housewife BlogHer Party sponsor, for the HD Everio camcorder, which made this vlog (and the party) possible!
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Celebrity Deaths. So Sad. (Yawn.)
Welcome to Guest Mouthy Housewife Friday! Today’s Guest is the lovely Le Shallow Gal. Don’t let the French fool you, she’s very approachable. Even though she uses footnotes. She also holds the honor of being one of the few bloggers in the world who’s been over to my house. Which means that she observed my housewifery in action. Thanks, SG, for taking one for the team and doing the housewifely duty this Friday! – Marinka, TMH
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
Why are people so heartbroken when a geriatric celebrity dies? And am I dead inside because I don’t care about Dennis Hopper, Gary Coleman, and Golden Girl Rue? And what do I tell friends who seem to sit shiva for every Hollywood geezer that keels over?
Signed,
Celebrity Death Match
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Dear Celebrity Death Match,
Dennis Hopper, Gary Coleman and Rue McClanahan all died within a week of each other? Wow, bad things really do happen in two and a half (1). But honey, if you’re looking for an impartial evaluation of your empathetic appropriateness, you’ve come to the wrong place.
Now the first part of your question is really more of a psych 101 final, so here’s my blue book in a nutshell. Celebrity deaths are sad because: people become aware of their mortality / Celebrities are raised to a deity-like status and thought to be immortal / People feel like they know famous people and thus feel like they lost a friend.
But I’m not making the big bucks (2) for helping community college students cheat on an exam, but rather for giving advice, so here it is:
There are different levels of celebrity mourning. Making a Michael Jackson playlist for a party? Acceptable. Buying and bronzing everything Billy Mays ever hawked? Not acceptable. I’m assuming your friends falls somewhere in the middle. (3)
Therefore, just smile, agree how sad it is and change the subject to whether Jill and Bethenny are going to be able to salvage their friendship. If the subject returns to the dearly departed, a simple “I’m so sorry for your loss” should make them realize how silly they sound, while sounding sincere enough to avoid being called a heartless bitch.
But if they’re serving lox from Zabars at these little shiva gatherings, let me know. For the right Kosher spread, I may be able to work up a little angst.
Sincerely,
Amy, Guest TMH
1) How creepy is it that Gary Coleman’s casket already had his name on it?
I could do this all day.
2) Any previous guest poster who did not receive their check and gift basket needs to let Marinka know ASAP.
3) If they’re on the Billy Mays side of the spectrum, I’m afraid you need new friends.
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My 10 Year-Old Wants to See New Moon
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My 10 year-old daughter is begging me to see “New Moon.” It’s rated PG-13, but is there any reason that I shouldn’t let her? She says that all her friends have already seen it and she feels left out.
Signed,
Old Mom
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Dear Old Mom,
Well, if she says that all her friends have already seen it, I don’t see that you have much of a choice. In our house we have a rule–if I hear the “everyone’s doing it” line, my answer to whatever request they have is an automatic “no.” Okay, so it backfired bigtime when I wouldn’t let them get the swine flu vaccine recently, but otherwise this method is pretty much fool-proof.
Because your daughter is entering a phase where peer pressure will become a lot more intense (don’t worry, it will only last thirty more years!), I think it’s important to address the entire “but everyone else is doing it” phenomenon head on. Let her know that every family has different values and that you will not be swayed by another family’s decisions. Throw in the whole “if your friends jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you jump too?” argument for good ole times’ sake.
As for whether New Moon is age appropriate for your daughter? Only you and her father can make that decision. From what I know about the series it’s about obsessive love with a vampire, so in my book the appropriate age for that is approximately 68. But I have found this website extremely helpful in deciding what movies my kids can see. You have to register to use it, but it takes a minute and it’s free.
If you decide that your daughter is simply too young, tell her. She should know that it’s your job to protect her from things that may be frightening and not age appropriate. She doesn’t have to like it. No child has ever thanked their parent in real time for setting boundaries.
Good luck,
Marinka, TMH
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Hey, do you know who got this week’s TMH Seal of Approval? Check it out here!
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Don’t Raise a Bigot: Talking to Your Kids About Race
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
OK, here’s one for you: my son said to me out of the blue: “I don’t like dark-skinned people.”
It freaked me out. How did I give birth to a racist? He’s only four, almost five. One of his favorite preschool teachers is African-American (a woman who I’ve considered asking to adopt me, she’s so wonderful). He absolutely adores her so when he said that, I asked, “Really? Even Miss Denise?” and he thought for a minute and said, “Well, not Miss Denise. I love her. But everyone else who’s dark-skinned.” I’ve been told I shouldn’t lecture him about it, because that will make him dig in his heels. But I want to exorcise this racism demon that has possessed my kid!
Help!!
Freaked-Out White Liberal Mom (FOWLM)
P.S. He also lately drew a stick-figure man, complete with striped tie and American flag, and told me it was “Daddy. No, ‘Rock’ Obama. No, daddy. No, Rock Obama.” If he’s getting his dad mixed up with the African-American president, obviously his feelings about African-Americans can’t be that bad. Or am I grasping at straws?
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Dear FOWLM,
As a white person who grew up in Alabama in the 1970’s, a time when some people still thought desegregation was a bad idea, I feel I can say with some authority that no, you are not grasping at straws. I don’t think you need to keep count of your white bed sheets just yet.
I do understand you freaking out though. Four years ago, I received a phone call from my son’s kindergarten teacher because he absolutely refused to stand by an African-American classmate during pictures, to the point of throwing a tantrum over it. (Just so you know, it’s impossible to die from mortification because if it were possible, I would be writing this from The Other Side.) Of course, this is the same kindergarten teacher that I showed penis drawings to and blew off classroom volunteer work for a nooner. I don’t know what keeps her from nominating us for family of the year.
To think I prided myself on my sons’ seemingly natural acceptance of skin color. And in Alabama too! My husband and I never talked about race because we thought it to be a non-issue; our kids just accepted differences with what we thought was modern open-mindedness. (Really, where is that family of the year award?)
As I found out the hard way, young children do get to an age where they begin to notice differences and can form their own weird hypotheses to explain it. I agree lecturing will not help the situation (when does it ever?), and sometimes these crazy ideas pass on their own, never to be thought of again.
For us, though, I decided to discover what misconception was underlying my son’s sudden issue with race rather than hope it would go away on its own. It was a painless process and, thankfully, reverse brainwashing was not needed, nor was exorcism, which is good news in this economy since either treatment would be expensive. Once we knew what was going on in his head, we easily proved his thinking false and he immediately came back around to the truth, which is that we’re all a part of the human race.
Namaste,
Heather, TMH
P.S. My son declared last November that if Obama didn’t win the election, he would defect to the Caribbean. Obviously I don’t need to watch my white bed sheets closely either. I think we both can relax.
This week on The Mouthy Housewives, we are giving away a simply divine diaper bag from Baby Star. It’s so gorgeous, you don’t even need a baby to use it. Trust me, the other moms will be silently stewing in envy. Click here to find out about the giveaway and how to enter.
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Hello God, It’s Me, Woman. Aren’t You Glad We Don’t Need a Box To Talk?
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
How come men are such morons? Why is a trained policeman sent to look for girls living in a backyard of a convicted sex offender and he looks no further than the front door of the house, not the backyard? Why did it take TWO FEMALES (one security guard, the other a policewoman) to see that something was wrong and rescue three captive females from the Monster in California? Do we really need men “protecting” us?
Signed,
Angry Amazon
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Dear Angry Amazon,
Why are men such morons?
An age-old question even Socrates in all his wisdom could not answer. Only Confucius touched on this genetic mystery when he said, “If I am walking with two men, ask directions we will not.” Or maybe that was Yoda. Or maybe I just made it up because I wouldn’t be surprised if the policeman got lost on his way to the backyard and refused to ask for directions.
I suppose it took two females to discover the Jaycee Dugard tragedy because we women see with more than just our eyes. Female intuition has long been disregarded and not given the credit it is due. We certainly don’t need God to give us a sign by burning bushes or, like Phillip Garrido, talking to us through a box. I personally believe (meaning God told me through a bottle of Windex) males lack this sixth sense because the “male member” interferes with the reception of intuitive signals, somewhat like an analog antenna trying to receive a digital signal – it’s all scrambled to hell and back.
When my boys are playing in the playroom, whose intuition tells them the sudden silent play is more dangerous than all the thumps, crashes, and yells combined? Not my husband’s. I know they are up to no good when things get too quiet. My husband just thinks how he can finally hear the football game on ESPN.
With the invention of tasers, I’m not sure we need men protecting us any more. I don’t exactly need my husband fighting off a saber tooth tiger for me. But he is handy at hanging pictures and can open the pickle jar, so I don’t think I’m ready to do without him just yet.
Sincerely,
Heather, TMH
