I like Hannah Montana

Posted on June 7, 2012 by funnygurl2

I am 36 years old and I like Hannah Montana. Think of me what you will.

I can’t even pass off that my child is actually the one who likes the show. I have a son and he is only 18 months old. He doesn’t have much of an opinion on TV yet. And I have liked the show longer than that.

I heard about the show Hannah Montana long before I ever saw it. I do not have the Disney Channel. But I thought a show with Billy Ray Cyrus and his daughter as a secret rock star sounded interesting. And I was under the false notion that she actually lived in Montana.

Then ABC started showing the series on Saturday Morning. It was goofy and simple and made me miss TV sitcoms of yore. Doesn’t every girl (everyone), deep down feel like they could be a rock star? I liked how at school, when she is just Miley Stewart hanging out with her friend Lily, they are losers. (I can totally relate to that.) It is refreshing that she gets both experiences. Although, if a teenager knew that they had a sure fire way to be more popular instantly, there is no way they could resist that. In the real world, Miley would surely have outed herself as Hannah in the pursuit of popularity.

Miley and Lily are supposed to be best friends. But if you watch the show and what they say and how they treat each other, they are very mean. It is meant to be funny, but it really isn’t. If my best friend treated me like that, I think I would find a new friend. Is the Disney Channel where today’s kids are learning to be mean to each other?

I own the Hannah Montana movie. (I may have used nefarious tactics to obtain it. But that is what my husband gets for signing us up for the Disney DVD club.) And the soundtrack. I enjoy spending an afternoon watching Miley rediscover her roots in Crowley Corners. The movie is nice because it has better writing, better production values, and a bigger budget than the regular TV series. I tend to like movies about teenage girls coming of age and young adult fiction anyways. It is what I am drawn to. I have experience in it. Just two decades ago. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t buying Hannah Montana merchandise. OK, maybe a musical toothbrush. It is not like I am drawn to TV stars who have their own unique style or anything.

ABC Saturday morning drove me nuts, because I believe they were only showing the same episodes from one season of the show. It drove me nuts knowing there were more stories I wasn’t seeing. I wasn’t seeing the kids grow up. After seeing the same episodes for like three years, I quit tuning in.

Recently, I found all four seasons of Hannah Montana on streaming Netflix. I got to see the final season where she reveals her true identity to the world. I got to see the pilot episode where Lily finds out her identity. Now I am trying to recap and watch all the episodes I still have not seen all these years. One problem: I am watching Jem at the same time. I am totally going to get my rock star secret identities all mixed up. Jem, Hannah Montana, Jerrica Benton, Miley Stewart, Miley Cyrus, Destiny Hope Cyrus. Will the real pop star please raise her hand?

More about Jem in a truly outrageous future post:)

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The Vicious Circle

Posted on June 5, 2012 by funnygurl2

Life is a vicious circle. This can be demonstrated graphically.

This a doodle I created in middle school. It is based on evil Fry Guys (you know, from McDonald’s? Used to hang out with Ronald McDonald before he tried to be healthy).

From my personal collection.

It is a doodle with a deep meaning. This would probably make an awesome collage using yarn. I should make it sometime. Except my blog takes up most of my spare time. Am I rambling now? You know, doodles are just rambling thoughts that come out of your fingers instead of your mouth.

OK. I think I am done now.

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What I Learned This Week – 6/3/12

Posted on June 3, 2012 by funnygurl2

I learned from the Yahoo! homepage news feed what will be the next terrible disease to kill us all: Chagas. The headline called it “The New AIDS”. A bug bites your face and give you the parasite. If undetected and not treated very early, it will cause your heart and/or intestines to swell up and explode! The article says “More than 8 million people have been infected by Chagas, most of them in Latin and Central America. But more than 300,000 live in the United States.” The good news is that it isn’t spread sexually. But it can be spread from mother to baby and through blood transfusions.

While I respect Mother Nature’s efforts in the area of population control, this sounds HORRIBLE!

I am a bit of a hypochondriac! This is TERRIBLE NEWS!!!

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Pharmacy Giraffe

Posted on May 31, 2012 by funnygurl2

The Pharmacy Giraffe. I call him Giraffey.

When I was growing up, I lived within walking distance of a pharmacy. I would go there to buy candy. I would go there to buy poster board for school projects. I would go there to buy my mom Christmas stocking stuffers. I would go there for something to do. When I was a little older, I went there with my asbestos friend to look at the teen magazines, which once in a while we actually purchased. You would think they would have been grateful for my business. No. Instead they watched me like a hawk every time I was in the store, apparently expecting me to steal something.

[NOTE: Now, I know you are thinking, “A whole blog post about a stuffed giraffe? Really?” But if you hang in until the end, it has sort of a nice ending.]

The pharmacy had one corner of the store with gifty items. Figurines. Stuffed animals. And the largest stuffed giraffe I had ever seen in my life. I used to hug his neck every time I went in. I dreamed of taking him home with me. He was for sale, but I think his purpose in the store was more to draw the children over to that area. Which he did very well. I remember the price tag on him being $500. Someone else told me $2000. Either way, no one ever bought him.

I grew up and moved away. The pharmacy was bought by new owners and moved to a new location. I remember going in to the new pharmacy once and thinking how sterile, bare it looked. And I was sad to find there was no giraffe there.
A number of years later, after my asbestos friend had left town and moved back, she convinced me to ride on a Noah’s Ark-themed float for her church for the town festival [She is always tricking me into doing things like that. She is a bad influence.]. Anyway, I met her pastor, who was dressed up like Noah. And looked about nineteen. And his wife, who looked more like Mary looking for a manger than Noah’s wife [She was pregnant at the time].

As you may have guessed, they had animals on the float. Wood-cut outs, along with stuffed animals. The best one, if you asked me, was the stuffed giraffe. I told my asbestos friend that it reminded me of the giraffe from the pharmacy. She replied that it was the very same one. It made the eight year old in me a little excited. It rained that day and he got a little wet, but it didn’t seem to cause him too much damage.

Three years later, I was pregnant with my son. I saw a stuffed giraffe at work. I decided right then and there that my child’s room would not be complete without one. I hoped to get it for free or discounted through work, as that was a big benefit of working there. But I didn’t really want to spend the money. The giraffe work was selling was also way smaller than the one I was used to from my childhood.

When I mentioned this to my asbestos friend, as I do with all my obsessions, she told me that the pharmacy giraffe that had rode on the church float was still sitting in the church basement. It had flooded down there and he had gotten a little wet, but it didn’t seem to cause him too much damage. After a quick call, she confirmed that the previous owner no longer wanted it. But, the previous owner said it was CURSED!

From what I remember, as the story goes, the previous owner bought the giraffe at auction when the pharmacy closed for her mother. But apparently the mother said it was too big and didn’t want it. The previous owner had tried to get rid of the giraffe several times. But, apparently, every time someone tried to take him out of the Blissfield village limits, they would experience car trouble, or some other kind of incident.

I took my chances with the curse and hauled him home. Not a single terrible fate befell me. That tells me it was fate. I was destined to own him.

Once I got him home, that was not the end of the story. Do you remember how I said I used to always go in to the pharmacy and hug his neck? Well, I was not the only one. And it appeared that most people chose to rub his nose, because there was not much left of it. It was time for another one of my unusual sewing projects (ex. Werecart). I spent a Sunday very carefully reconstructing his nose, knowing that if I screwed it up I would be destroying a cherished part of Blissfield history of my generation. Even with all that pressure, it came out quite good.

Before


After


I truly believe the Law of Attraction is how the giraffe came into my possession. I wanted him so badly back then and truly believed he should be mine that it became reality. I can no longer ever deny The Secret of the Law of Attraction. Of course, once I put a bed and a crib and shelf and a dresser in my son’s room, it because clear that there was no room for a giraffe as well. So, he happily hangs out in my dining room for now. And maybe the old ladies at the pharmacy knew something I didn’t. I do have something from that store that I didn’t pay for after all:)

The End


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Bathtime

Posted on May 29, 2012 by funnygurl2

I guess every kid has an issue with something. My son (“M” for the sake of the blogosphere) has an issue with the bathtub. As an adult educated in the laws and reasons of science, I do not understand it. But, I am not 18 months old.

Baths for my son started in the usual way—in a baby bathtub, in the kitchen sink. He hated baths at first. But we just figured that was because he was probably cold. He was only 5 lb. 11 oz. when he was born. And at three weeks old, we realized our furnace had been running inefficiently for some time. Especially because it died and we had to buy a new one.

Once the weather warmed up and our baby fattened up, things started to go better. Throughout the summer and into the fall, we moved him into the big tub. It was a fairly smooth transition.

In November of 2011, M had to get a tube put into his left kidney that went out to an external bag that we had to hang on his back. He had the bag through January of 2012. In that time, we gave him sponge baths. In the living room. My mom thought we should have given them to him in the kitchen sink. I stood by the fact that he was too big for that now, and might rip the faucet off or something. And, truth be told, I liked to watch TV while we bathed him. He got to where he hated this, and would cling to one of us (mom or dad) screaming, while the other (dad or mom) did the best they could to wash him as quickly as possible. (As it was winter again, we chalked it up to that he was probably cold.) Sometimes this ritual would be followed by changing the bandage over his tube site. It wasn’t oozy or anything. We changed it to keep it well covered and keep infection out. But it required much screaming (by my son) and anxiety (from the parents). That may not have helped the situation either.

A week after the tube was removed I was very excited to return him to a more standard bathing routine. I plopped him in the normal tub in about an inch of water and…he screamed his head off and stood up and clutched my shirt as if I was trying to drown him. This went on for what seemed like an eternity. In reality, it was probably only a few months.

I asked the pediatrician what she thought. She hypothesized that he was just so traumatized by having the same major surgery twice and being stuck with needles by strangers, etc. that it was bound to manifest itself in some way. A great idea with probably some truth, but not a help in revolving said situation. I asked for advice from family members. Sister-in-Law suggested I let him play in the tub without water in it. I did. He was fine with that. But somehow, that ease of attitude didn’t translate to being naked in the tub with water.

So, he was standing and screaming and clutching. Until, one day, out of the blue, he figured out that he could splash his foot in the water. His right foot, to be exact. Then the screaming seemed to stop. He began to hold on to the side of the tub and, while standing, splash his right foot in the water. So no more clutching my shirt. And he would splash his left foot sometimes now too. I can wash pretty much any part of him, and he doesn’t mind, as long as he can splash his feet.

You are right, this is a big improvement, except HE IS STILL STANDING UP! He holds on to the bathtub edge for support, and it gets all slippery with water and soap. He is leaning down the whole time to watch his foot splashes. With his head hanging over the edge of the tub. One time, early on, as he was doing this, I was sitting in front of him. All of a sudden he had fallen head first out of the tub and done a sort of somersault into my lap. Suddenly I had a wet, slippery baby in my lap. I put him right back in the tub and he was unphased. He went back to stomping his foot and splashing the water.

If I try to sit him down in the tub, he screams. I have bath toys floating around. He might try to step on one with his foot if it floats by, but otherwise he ignores them. Have you ever tried to wash a child’s hair when their head isn’t even inside the tub, but hanging over the edge? I try to rinse it out and I end up with wet knees and a wet bathmat.

I fell like, if we can get over this hump of him sitting down in the bath, we will be caught up to where we should have been by now. If we hadn’t of lost three months to the nephro tube and sponge baths. It does seem as though persistence pays off eventually with him. I know it did with him falling asleep at bedtime. Hmmm…Maybe I could avoid all this by just giving him a shower instead?

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