Tag Archives: children

PBS must really hate kids

As I rang in 2016 listening to the dulcet tones of my husband snoring on the couch next to me and Carrie Mathieson saved America on Netflix yet again, little did I know that life as I knew it was about to end. I logged out of Netflix not knowing that the following day, the first day of 2017 (That beacon of hope! That clean slate!), would dawn with doom and gloom on the horizon.


By the end of each day my house looks like a tornado has passed through it. I’m pregnant and tired, sick of asking the four year old to pick up his toys, and just done with the day. Cleaning and tidying are for the morning, before I’ve been asked a dozen times for candy for breakfast (and called the meanest mom in the world at least a dozen times for denying the request), before I’ve caved and given my kid Cheetos for breakfast (because cheese is full of calcium and is therefore healthy), before life has generally beaten me down for the day. The day still holds a lot of hope at 5am, so that’s the best time for tidying. After coffee, of course. But sometimes the house is just so destroyed that I’m still cleaning when Hurricane H emerges from his room, and I count on Netflix for entertainment while I finish up. On the days when I haven’t even started yet I count on Netflix to allow me to enjoy at least one beverage while its still hot.


And so, on the first day of 2017 I turned to Netflix to save my morning (and let’s face it, that morning was going to set the tone for my year – I had a lot riding on that morning). “Mom, put on Neckflix while I eat my cheesies,” H requested. I obliged with , “What would you like to watch?”

“Curious George.”


The books are so much better, anyway

All 9 seasons of Curious George had been on Netflix as of Dec 31st, 2016. On Jan 1st, 2017, every episode vanished. It’s usually right there at the top of the screen, under suggested shows, recently watched, continue watching… I scrolled through each list, panic mounting. I finally searched ‘Curious George’, staring at the screen in horror as ‘Titles related to Curious George’ popped up – the equivalent of a Netflix death sentence. A quick Google search revealed that PBS has signed an exclusive deal with Hulu this year and pulled all programming from Netflix. This means that our backup show, Caillou (which most parents hate but I have grown to love because, whiny bald bastard aside, HOT COFFEE), is also gone.


I’m sure all you other non-Pinteresty, average moms feel my pain too. My kid is acting like the world has ended and after many tears is now reluctantly lost in a Mighty Machines YouTube loop of despair. I fear he may never find his way out.




Bonus – further proof that PBS hates kids:

Bonus The 2nd – I confess that by ‘clean the house’ I really just mean ‘clean the kitchen’. The rest of the house I’ll get to when I get to it… I blame PBS.


Some Serious Shenanigans

And I sing, “Press me freshly, read me slowly, take it easy don’t you know, that I have never been Freshly Pressed beforrrrrre!”

How exciting is being Freshly Pressed? At time of writing I have yet to see my post appear on that hallowed page, but I’ve received an e-mail saying it’s on its way there today or tomorrow. I got really excited and called my daddy right away. Yeah, I’m that cool.

So, WordPress seemed to enjoy my childhood anecdotes, and I hope you did too. I had a lot of fun writing that post and in the hours since I’ve had all these hilarious childhood behaviours and memories pop back into my head. I often joke that I have PTSD (oh the joys of being a child of divorce) and can’t remember my childhood, so when I do catch glimpses of it I try to build context so that I remember more.

I qualified as a shenanigans savant at an early age, back when I looked like this:

Circa 1987

A warning for new parents: Do not teach your children to read and write at an early age. They will hone the skill and use it against you.

Credit: Erika Aoyama, 2003

Case in point: I was reading and writing at the age of three. My parents have always boasted about this and even I have come to wear it as a badge of pride; however, I think they have forgotten the day back in 1989 when a bunch of parents and their children arrived at our doorstep for my supposed birthday party bearing gifts on a Wednesday afternoon in November, much to my mother’s surprise. She was nearly 9 months pregnant with my youngest brother of that particular parental pairing, and at home with her was my 5 year old self and my 3 year old brother. Of course, I really couldn’t understand as she sent me to my room and then proceeded to turn my guests away, one by one. In my five year old opinion my mother was being totally cruel. I mean, I’d had a birthday party every other year of my young life, so why not this year? And to not even keep the gifts? Oh! The agony! What those beautifully wrapped colourful boxes might have contained… I imagined I’d never know. I wept.

I pretended I was Ariel from my new favourite movie, the Little Mermaid, that my dad had just taken me to see in theaters the previous weekend. My mom was Ursula the sea witch (sorry mom) and no matter what she did to me, Prince Eric would rescue me. I sat by the window flopping my pretend mermaid fins around, singing that song Ariel sings, “Ahhhahhhahhh, ahh ahh ahh ahh ahh“. Know the one? No? Well, I was convinced Prince Eric would recognize it and come to my aid.

Anyways parents, if you insist on teaching your children to read at an early age (don’t say I didn’t warn you), here are some pointers. Should you receive an invitation made out of construction paper that comes home crumpled in the bottom of your kindergarten aged child’s backpack and looks something like this,

there are some telltale signs to look for in determining whether or not it is parent approved.

1. Make sure your child’s name is spelled properly. If the invitation has been proofread by a parent, there are not likely to be major typos.

2. Make sure the date is not for the middle of the week. That just makes no sense.

3. Note the obsession with presents. It’s not cute, it’s greedy, and my mom would never have let me show the world that I was a greedy little present fiend.

4. Make sure there is an RSVP! No parents want a surprise number of five year olds showing up at their house! Would you?

Honestly. Even though I didn’t get my party (until the new year after that pesky little brother was born… man, I have nice parents), I’m quite proud of myself for pulling this off. How is it that not one parent questioned this handmade invitation for a Wednesday afternoon birthday party during the school year and called to verify with my parents? I totally blindsided them. Those are some seriously successful shenanigans my friends!