Caillou…The Silent Killer

Before kids, I remember parents complaining about Barney and the Wiggles regularly.  I never once turned on Barney for my kids for fear that I would have to listen to and look at that purple beast.

The Wiggles didn’t really bother me and as soon as I realized that they put my children into a trance, I put them on all the time.

Before we knew it – we all knew every dance move and every song lyric.  Mr. Gaga and I even rocked out and sang every song took the kids to two Wiggles Concerts.  It was around this time that I had two little babies that needed my constant attention.  The 22 minutes of peace that I had sitting on the couch in a vegetative state while they sang “Fruit Salad,” was the highlight of my day.

I remember too – that there was an episode on at 6:30 am and I would sometimes sit with my coffee riddled with exhaustion and actually think that Captain Feathersword was hot.  It could have been lack of sleep or lack of adult interaction, either way those Wiggles brought me a lot of joy.

After I asked Mr. Gaga to come to bed wearing a Captain Feathersword outfit – he banned me from watching…

I actually was a bit sad to see them go  – only to be replaced by new weird 2013 Wiggles.

Really? A Wiggle-ette? No…I’m not tuning in for this shit….

Recently a friend was complaining about her kids watching Caillou.  I had a flashback to never ending afternoons with a baby and a preschooler.

It seems so long ago that I spent my afternoons making grilled cheese sandwiches while that annoying whiney brat Caillou droned on in the background.

“How come you didn’t warn me?” She asked in despair.

How come I didn’t warn her? I am not sure – but with that I realized that I really should warn people about this menace to society.

After preschool or whatever morning activity we had – we would come home for lunch and Caillou was always on.  It seemed harmless, so I would let the kids watch.

I did initially find the characters offensive due to their lack of style and the fact that poor Caillou had a clear case of alopecia that needed addressing – but I figured it couldn’t be too bad.

I am sure at some point he is going to notice that he is the only bald one and demand a wig….

Episode by episode it became increasingly clear that this son of a bitch was a whining, rude little brat.  His parents don’t ever reprimand him for his wretched behavior because his family consists of an extremely medicated mother and a hippie Dad that doesn’t comb his hair and wears oversized Christmas turtlenecks everyday.

Do these people own mirrors?? If they are going to wear seasonally inappropriate turtlenecks and not push up their headbands properly – can they at least match their clothes???

As if their looks aren’t offensive enough, Caillou wanders through life complaining and demanding things.  You will notice that if your children watch this show – they actually learn step by step how to be a brat and how to throw tantrums.

This episode shows Caillou having a tantrum because he wants to go to the circus “RIGHT NOW!” Several children I know immediately started to throw tantrums “Caillou-style” after watching this…

It would take all my mental strength to get through the day with two little boys and their live crying and whining, Caillou’s whines and cries would go right through me and make me want to jump off the nearest cliff.

Thank you so much show creator Hélène Desputeaux for introducing this spoiled,  annoying person into our lives.  It’s not enough that we have to navigate the news and Annie and Bambi  without incident – not to mention the real live children that we have to interact with daily that are complete jerks, and their real live parents that look like Steven Keaton.  

Wouldn’t it be nice to have some pleasant afternoon programming for our children that is not filled with bald assholes?

New parents – consider yourself warned.

Do not turn on Caillou under any circumstance, even a Wiggle-ette will probably be better.

I asked Mr. Gaga to proofread this post.  He finished reading and looked up and said “What’s your point? You are just ripping on Caillou this week for no reason?”

Yes Mr. Gaga - yes I am.

Please share on FACEBOOK if you have ever experienced the TORTURES of CAILLOU and his stupid cat Gilbert and his medicated, turtleneck loving family!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

A Cross to Bear

When I am preparing to host an event, things get a little tense around here.

The housecleaning, yard work, meal planning, and thinking of little details like what everyone will wear and what hand towels will go in the bathroom, consume me.  Everything I just mentioned doesn’t really cross Mr. Gaga’s mind at all and he just picks up some beer and tries to just fly under the radar so that I don’t murder him in his sleep.

On a warm day last week I came home from a long day and thought I would take the kids to one of the many frozen yogurt establishments in town.  We had gone to Sweet Frog before and enjoyed it so we headed there after dinner.

The kids filled their cups with a variety of yogurt and toppings and we settled down at a table.  The yogurt is amazing.  Better than Pinkberry, better than any yogurt I have had.  Also, the place is very cozy and there is nice comfortable seating.  We were all going back and forth saying how much we loved it when I looked at the girl ringing up people’s yogurts.

I looked at her shirt and I did a double take.

I stopped eating with my spoon mid-air about to enter my mouth, squinting and looking very carefully at her shirt.

I put down my spoon and leaned forward a bit to get a closer look. I rubbed my eyes like they do in the movies thinking that I was seeing things.

“You guys – what does that girl’s shirt say?”

The boys read the shirt aloud.  I was speechless.

I thought they were just cute frogs that had fake eyelashes and liked yogurt but apparently they have a much deeper meaning….

“I don’t get it ….what does God have to do with yogurt?” I asked the kids as they resumed eating their yogurt.  “Rely on God that it will be good yogurt? I don’t get it!” I kept saying.

They ignored me.

Then I looked on the wall behind the register and saw this:

This says “Serving with eternal everlasting truth fully relying on God”

What the hell?

The other yogurt places I have been have signs about the benefits of probiotics and active cultures!

I was floored.  I looked around…nobody seemed to notice that we were in some sort of cult-like yogurt facility. I looked down at the yogurt.

“Are they trying to save us through the yogurt?” I asked in a whisper to my 6 and 7-year-old boys, who stared back at me cluelessly.

Sam looked up from his yogurt….”Well I don’t know Mom…..but all I know is that God’s yogurt is delicious.”

He had a point.

I finished my yogurt, I mean just because it was cult yogurt doesn’t mean I shouldn’t eat it.

Two days later, I was doing some banking and I saw a strange charge.

Date	Type	Description	Amount	Balance
05/08/2013	Pending	DEBIT HOLD HEAVENLY   DEVINE INTERVEN W. HARTFORD CT	($14.21)

This was the exact amount of the yogurt!

Hello! My YOGURT came up on my bank statement as HEAVENLY DEVINE INTERVENTION!!!!

Again, I rubbed my eyes and blinked fifty times to make it go away, but sure enough it was still there.

I thought – maybe I am seeing things. Maybe it really says “Sweet Frog Yogurt” but I see  “Divine Intervention” because I am going crazy.  Maybe Jesus is sending me a secret message before Michael’s communion.  Maybe I am being saved!

I didn’t have time to think about it too much, I resumed running around like a lunatic getting ready for the party for the remainder of the week.

I did think a couple of times that maybe I was “saved” and just didn’t know it yet.

The night before the party, we had a lot of last minute stuff to do.  I ran around in the backyard potting flowers and setting up tables and I noticed that Mr. Gaga was missing.

I went to the front yard to see that he had dipped into the beer for the party.  He was holding a Corona in one hand and watering miscellaneous grass with the hose in his other hand.

*Apparently when you get saved from heavenly yogurt it doesn’t make you nicer to your husband.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked with potting-soil filled hands on my hips.

(Mr. Gaga doesn’t like it when I yell or swear outside where the neighbors can hear me and I generally don’t care.)

“I’m watering the lawn.”

If I didn’t know better, I would almost think that he WANTS us to get divorced…..

“I don’t give a flying fuck if every motherfucking blade of grass in this lawn explodes into flames on Monday!” I screamed very loudly. “Get in the backyard and help me!”

Tumbleweeds rolled by and neighbors stared.

We didn’t really speak much for the rest of the night.

In the morning I woke up at 6:30 to go pick up the cake and finish setting up for the party.  I had ordered an Italian cake with strawberries and peaches and whipped cream in the shape of a cross for 60-80 people.  When I realized that the number of people attending would actually be 45, I tried to make the cake smaller.  When the bakery informed me that a smaller cake could not be made into the shape of a cross, I stuck with the larger size cross with “God Bless Michael” written across it.

What I hadn’t considered was that it would weigh about 75 pounds and fill the entire trunk of my car.

I drove home carefully and thought as I pulled into the driveway that I had nowhere to put the cake.  I entered the house and headed downstairs to see if the basement fridge could accommodate this huge cross.

I put my bag down and tried to squeeze the box into the narrow space.  The box got stuck halfway .  I tried to pick the box up a bit and push it on an angle and it got stuck further.  The more I pushed the more the box was folding in and possibly ruining the frosting and writing.

I started to sweat and call Mr. Gaga.

I tried to pull the box out and balance the cross on my knee while saying every curse word I could think of.  By the time Mr. Gaga came down I was trying to push the box in backwards with my butt.

*Apparently when you get saved by yogurt you don’t really stop cursing.

“Why do we have a fucking stupid piece of shit refrigerator that doesn’t actually fit food?” I yelled.

“I want a divorce What’s the problem, now?”  he asked with exasperation.

“This fucking cross won’t fit in this asshole fridge.” I said with despair.

“I’ll take care of it – just go get ready,” he said sensing my pending nervous breakdown.

That was basically the last calamity and we all got dressed and got to the ceremony on time.

The ceremony went well, Michael did not sip from the filthy swine flu cup as I instructed him and everything ran smoothly.

We got home a little late but my sister-in-law helped me put out a cheese platter that had all of the meats in the shape of a cross which was perfect.

I had the tables set up with beautiful flowers, candles and wine bottles that were teals and yellows.  The red wine bottles had gorgeous crosses on the label.

I took pictures of everything and the party went off without a hitch. The weather was perfect and the food was perfect….(maybe the yogurt really was saving me after all.)

Even the cake wasn’t too mangled from the basement drama.

I had time to run around taking candids of our family and of Michael and Sam and it was a great day.

When everyone left and the kids were in bed I went to download all 50 pictures from my iPhone to see how fat I looked relive the glory of this holy day.

Somehow in the transfer process from phone to computer they got DELETED!!!

“WHY GOD?? WHY??”

I got a cake in the shape of a cross!

I fought with other mothers to get the perfect date for my son’s first holy communion!!

I served prosciutto fashioned into a huge cross!!

This is the thanks I get?

I tried to take pictures of what was left after the party – but somehow it doesn’t seem quite the same.

Here’s a part of the cake….

I went to bed disgruntled and exhausted.

In the morning we all woke up late. I was so tired, I barely put makeup on, threw my hair up and went to head out to work.

I realized quickly that my bag was missing with my wallet, and basically my life in it.  I searched everywhere.  I went outside and checked the car and it wasn’t there.

I started to have heart palpitations and a pit started to grow in my stomach.

Mr. Gaga picked up the phone on one ring, “Good morning,” he answered cheerfully.

“Someone stole my bag!” I said frantically rummaging through my closet and looking under my bed. “I have searched the entire house!”

He calmly reminded me how I had come in the day before swearing and acting like a maniac in the basement with the cake.

I ran to the basement and what do you know…next to the fridge….there was my bag.

He is a pretty smart guy.

“Oh thank God, ok have a good day!” I said rushing to get in the car.

“Wait…so were you about to accuse our families of stealing your pocketbook?” Mr. Gaga demanded with disgust.

“Um….well…yes……or maybe the caterer?” I answered weakly.

It was at that moment that I realized no matter how much Sweet Frog yogurt someone consumes….some people just can’t be saved.

PLEASE CLICK ON THE BANNER BELOW TO AT LEAST SAVE MY PLACE ON THE TOP MOMMY BLOGS!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Why my kids are lucky to have me….

The other day at the store Michael was pointing to something in the deli case.

“Mom kids in my class have this for lunch all the time…I want to get that.” he said.

“Absolutely not.” I said as I  pushed the cart away, “When you see children that have that for lunch it means that their mother doesn’t love them…see how lucky you are to have me?”

He nodded and seemed to understand.

It reminded me in general as Mother’s Day approaches just how incredibly lucky Michael and Sam are to have me….

I am going to repost from last Mother’s Day my list of reasons why…..

TOP TEN REASONS WHY MY KIDS ARE LUCKY THAT I AM THEIR MOTHER:

1 – Of course – just stating the obvious here – but even though I am Italian and spent many years going tanning my kids are lucky enough that I don’t  roast them in a tanning bed.

2 – I let my children choose from refreshing beverages like milk or water and I give them Flintstones Vitamins with Extra C to build immunity! I don’t breastfeed them until they are old enough to have one hand on a Wii controller and the other on my boob.

3 – If I did do something that could potentially scar them for life or embarrass them in front of their friends, I wouldn’t let some magazine reporter and photographer document said activity and publish it for the world to see.  I would not do that even if it was for the cover of TIME Magazine, because although I have a blog which could be seen as a touch narcissistic, I am not a complete asshole.

4 – I actually spend time with my kids. I take them to the park, or read books to them, or take them to the library instead of spending my time  “bullet-ing” all day like  many mothers in America.

5 – I could possibly be considered a “milf.”  This is especially noticeable when compared to the “milgamo’s” around this town.    (“Milgamo” stands for – “moms I’d like to give a make-over.) This doesn’t necessarily mean much – but when the kids are older I am sure they will take comfort in knowing that when I pick them up from school I won’t be wearing ‘mom-jeans.”

6 – Even though other mothers in town seem to “forget” to comb their children’s hair or let their hair grow to the floor because  “Johnny doesn’t like getting his hair cut,” I get my boys frequent haircuts and comb their hair regularly.

I think it is important that they don’t look like drag queens on heroin at the bus stop - (like many young boys do these days.)

This is another little first grade boy that often sits next to my son on the bus….

7 – I make sure that my children are not fat and lazy.  On nice days I often send them outside and lock all the doors, keeping them out for long stretches of time.

When they try to come inside and watch television or play video games, I yell and say “Do you want to be fat and lazy like all of your friends? Do you??” and shove them back out the door.

8 -I don’t really make them go to church.  My father made me go every living Sunday of my life. I think my kids are pretty lucky that I am too lazy and tired and not-god-fearing enough, to make them go.  When we do go on occasion, if they laugh and act crazy, I probably join in instead of yelling at them.  (Sorry Jesus.)

9 – I keep it real.  I don’t hide the nitty-gritty facts of life.  The threat that my children might some day really end up in “bad boy school,” keeps  everyone on their toes around here.  “Bad boy school” is a place that my mother-in-law taught me about.  It is a place where boys go when they are mean and rotten and can be conveniently seen from the highway!  I drive fast enough by it that they never really get a good look.

I always say “Oh look I see little sad faces peeking out the windows….See them??”

They always look out the window frantically with looks of horror – and say “Yes! I see them!!”

Otherwise known as the Colt Building in Hartford, it’s the “Bad Boy School” in the Gaga household. I always say as we drive by – “There it is kids! Keep it up and that’s where you will be living soon!”

10- I BLOG about my life and theirs – so they will have plenty of evidence of what a good mother I am and how much I love them!!!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO ALL OF THE MOMS! AND AS A MOTHER’S DAY GIFT TO ME – PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW!!!XOXO, LADYGOOGOOGAGA

Last night….

….I couldn’t do a blog post.

I hosted Michael’s First Communion party yesterday.

I am sharing with you my post from a few months back to refresh your memory about how this all started and then I will tell you about the party later.

Being a good Catholic is exhausting…..

No wonder the Pope quit.

REPOSTED FROM JANUARY 2013:

Michael has his First Communion coming up.

This is a big deal.

For most good Catholics it’s because it’s an important sacrament that means something important I am sure…..

For me it’s important because I have to start thinking about the food and decor I need to have for 100 people at my house, and make sure it doesn’t conflict with the millions of other obligations that we have in the spring and summer.

I had to attend an important meeting at the church this week outlining all of the details about the ceremony and also to secure a date.

First topic of discussion was First Reconciliation.  This is when the children have to go meet with the priest and confess their sins.

I remember when I had to do this as a small child, being so afraid and nervous I  as I approached the confessional with sweaty palms and a pit in my stomach.

I told the priest that I was “sometimes mean to my mother,” and he told me that if I just said the “Our Father” three times then I would be totally forgiven.

I was so relieved.

Needless to say, in this day and age, this kind of torment is not favored by parents.

Parents were raising their hands at the meeting saying “How can we be sure that the children are comfortable and not nervous?”

“Can we be 100 percent sure that the priest will tell them they are forgiven?”

“I remember being very stressed about this, I DO NOT want that for my child.”

UM HELLO???? THIS IS CATHOLICISM PEOPLE!!!

IT’S NOT MEANT TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD!

IT IS MEANT TO MAKE YOU FILLED WITH GUILT AND ANXIETY FOREVER.

Then of course there was the topic of wardrobe.

Of course if you saw the picture of the Dad at my son’s baseball game then you know that this is a town filled with primarily Vineyard Vines and JCrew.  Nobody wears makeup….nobody combs their daughter’s hair….I could go on for hours.

But anyways – there comes a debate about headpieces.  A bunch of mothers said “Yes” to headpieces, and then it started.

“Well, my daughter would never wear something in her hair.”

“I don’t ever make my daughter wear something she doesn’t want to!”

“Well what should I do if she says that she won’t wear it??”

I told you I didn’t want to wear this headpiece MOTHER!! I look like a WHORE! When I grow up I am being a Scientologist!!!

 

I wanted to stand up and say “Look!! If your child is Catholic they have to make a confession to a creepy priest that could possibly be a pedophile and they have to wear a creepy bride-like head-piece that means they are marrying Jesus!! Deal with it you assholes! And if you don’t like it – then go be Jewish!! And have fun with 10 hours a week of Hebrew school and if you think our headpieces our bad – good luck with those hats and barrette clips they wear!!

NOW JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I CAN SIGN UP FOR MY CEREMONY DATE AND THEN I CAN HIRE A CATERER AND ORDER A CAKE!!”

But I didn’t say that.

I just looked at my phone waiting for everyone to stop whining and complaining.

There were 2 available dates in May to have the First Communion ceremony and one is Mother’s Day.  Again, some nice Catholic mothers I am told, actually enjoy having this precious ceremony on Mother’s Day.

I am not that type of mother.

On Mother’s Day I would like to eat a nice brunch, (something a little more substantial than a communion wafer) and enjoy my life…not sit in a sweaty church for an hour and half and then entertain 100 people in my backyard.

It was imperative that I get my name on the list for the first weekend in May.

I was pretty much willing to do anything to get it.

As the “church lady” spoke I adjusted my chair to be at the best angle to pop up from it and sprint to the sign-up table. I envisioned elbowing people or tripping them to be sure that I could get up front in a speedy fashion.

At the end of the meeting, the Church Lady asked that we bow our heads and say a prayer.

She also asked that we allow her time to move from the table before we swarmed and knocked her over.

I don’t even think anyone said “Amen” at the end of the prayer and that bitch didn’t have a fighting chance of escaping.

People were fucking INSANE!!! There was no mercy!! No forgiveness!!

I witnessed no behaviors that Jesus likes!!!

These women ended up not getting the date they wanted because they had to be rushed to the emergency room..The cross above their heads is a symbol of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Jesus died on the cross for us. On nights like this one, I am sure he’s wondering if that was a bad move….

 

I ran so fast to the table, and yet I could feel a crowd forming around me as I got to the front of the room.   People were pushing and shoving and hands were sticking into the space where the sign-up sheets were, grabbing at the pens on the table.

A pregnant friend was in front of me with a pencil ready to sign-up when we reached the table.  She was the first to get the paper, and I was behind her, I was so set.

“Give me that pencil when you are done,” I yelled in her ear above the noise of the crowd.

But as she signed her child’s name to the sheet, it was clear, that there was no way she would be able to hand me anything…..the crowd was too rough. She was jostled and pushed aside…I tried to grab for the pencil out of her hand but she got swept away.

There goes the pencil…..

I would just have to just grab the sheet myself.

A different woman had gotten control of the sheet and I pushed underneath her arms as she was writing and I quickly signed on the bottom of the sheet, in the last slot, before anyone else could think of it.

Thank you Jesus.

For understanding that it’s very important to celebrate your body in wafer-form only on specific days.

Thank you for answering my prayers and not punishing me for my sometimes less than devout behaviors…

We will be there on our desired date with bells on.

THANKS FOR UNDERSTANDING MY EXHAUSTION!!! BEING A CATHOLIC MOTHER IS VERY HARD….XO LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Crying…America’s favorite past-time

All around America little children were crying this weekend, shitting their pants, and refusing to follow rules.

Was it the first day of preschool or lots of really bad playdates?

No.

It was “Opening Day” of baseball of course!!!

This is the start of baseball season.  A sport that is beloved by so many adults in the US that they sign their children up and drag them to a field weekly so that they can display bad behavior dressed up like Derek Jeter.

Mr. Gaga is a coach for Sam’s team of kindergarteners.

Most of them don’t know why they are there.

Most of them don’t listen.

Most of them are not capable of hitting or catching or running.

Saturday the little boy who was playing first base spent the entire game playing in the dirt around the base.

Mr. Gaga told him to stop.

The next time he looked the kid was back down on all fours rubbing dirt all over first base.

Mr. Gaga told him to get up.

The next batter came up to the plate, Mr. Gaga looked and the kid was making a sandcastle on the base.

He told him to stop making sandcastles.

The next time he looked…this is what he saw on first base.

At this point he just gave up….

When he looked over to see if the kid’s parents might mind that he was pretending to be at a beach instead of playing baseball he realized quickly there was no hope.

So then the next batter was up and Mr. Gaga didn’t bother with the first base kid.

The kid on the opposite team hit the ball and ran to first base.

This was major.

This kid must understand the game of baseball!

He must be decent at hitting AND running in the right direction!!

When he got to first base he stood on the base with pride.

Then he pissed his pants.

He stood there for a bit and then went to cry to his mother, but that part is not important.

What happened next was fascinating.

When the next batter got up and Mr. Gaga looked over at “sandcastle boy” he had mixed the urine puddle with the dirt to create a muddy texture perfect for sandcastle building.

Mr. Gaga didn’t bother trying to stop him and his parents were probably too busy playing Angry Birds to notice.

Finally Mr. Gaga did the right thing!!

He is WAY too nice to these fat losers little baseball players and their asshole parents    moms and dads.

Everyone in town should count their blessings that it is MR. and not MRS. Gaga that is the coach of this team of urine lovers.

Even the older kids still have some issues.

On Michael’s team of 8 YEAR OLD BOYS, every time one of the boys had to go on the field….HIS MOTHER HELD HIS HAND AND PHYSICALLY BROUGHT HIM OUT.

And there is still an awful lot of crying in baseball.  There was crying because they didn’t want to play, crying because they were out, crying because they didn’t hit the ball, crying because they pissed their pants…..

What I would pay to have this guy come and scream at all the kids….

And one last perk to all of this of course……Just like last season.

It’s a tie.

Every game.

Because…….

“If you had fun….you won.”

Can you believe this horse shit?

What will happen when all these little pissy pants kids have to face the world??

God forbid when they ever lose…they are in for a real shock.

Because in real life when you spend your entire lesson game rolling around in dirt and piss….

Well…..you get some sort of bacterial infection and you lose.

No news is good news

Yet another bad week for America.

Just when I thought it was safe to turn on the news, yet another unspeakable tragedy has occurred.

When I was growing up the news was always on.

The Today Show was on in the morning.  Even if we weren’t watching, Bryant Gumbel and Jane Pauly’s voices served as background noise for most mornings of my childhood.

At night, the background noise was provided by the nightly news with Tom Brokaw or Dan Rather.  There voices would drone on while my mother made dinner every night and we played or did our homework.

That would never happen in this house.

I actually turn on the news in the morning to get a weather report (lord knows we need that around here) and quickly turn the channel the minute Matt Lauer shows his face.

Once actual news starts I immediately turn to something that’s good for children, like Spongebob Squarepants.

I just don’t want them to find out about how horrible the world is before it’s necessary.  Why should they have to worry that they might be murdered at school or at the movie theater?

So, I shelter them….maybe sometimes too much.

The very first time I knew that my children were very sheltered was when they watched the movie “Annie.”  I thought they would enjoy it, because let’s face it, what’s more fun that belting out “The sun will come out tomorrow?”

Who hasn’t pretended to be an overworked orphan singing “Hard Knock Life?”  What children wouldn’t love this cinematic production?

Um…mine.

We had to keep pausing it for their panic-stricken interrogations.

“But Mom where are her parents?”

“Um.. I’m not sure.”

“Well, are they going to come get Annie and take her home?”

“Probably not….”

“But…are they dead???” the two boys asked with pale-faced horror.

“Umm…I think maybe….”

“WHY???!!!!”

And so on and so on….they couldn’t even enjoy the movie because they were so distraught that Annie’s parents had died.

I guess I hadn’t considered that there has been such a shift in children’s movies that they would find this alarming.  Today’s movies and shows for kids depict life as pretty safe and fun.  Nothing terrible ever happens.

That wasn’t the case in the 80′s.

When I was growing up Bambi’s mother got shot with a gun right in front of her, Cinderella’s mother died and left her to be raised by a wicked stepmother, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz had no parents and had to live with her old aunt and uncle and even the Sound of Music children’s mother was dead.

I am sure nobody ever said, “We shouldn’t let the kids watch this movie because they will be upset.”

Growing up I really thought at any given moment my parents could perish and I would be an orphan.  That was real life.

If my kids saw this they would go completely insane….Really the baby curling up for a nap in its mother’s pool of blood IS a bit much Disney…..

Even as I got older the trend continued.

The Brady boys on the Brady Bunch had no mother.

Arnold and Willis’ mom in Diff’rent Strokes passed away when they were young and left them with some old white guy.

The kids in Gimme a Break had to be raised by their housekeeper when their mom kicked the bucket.

Samantha Micelli’s mother from Who’s the Boss…dead.

Webster’s real parents…dead.

We didn’t even care that all mothers in the television universe were dead!

I was too busy being jealous of how much fun it would be to live with Uncle Jesse to worry about the fact that the girls’ mother in Full House was dead as a doornail.

Another lucky girl was Nicole from My Two Dads, whose mother croaked and left her with 2 really cool dads!!

And the coolest and luckiest girl on the planet was none other than Punky Brewster.  Please read the following description from IMDB of my favorite show when I was 7 years old.

“Punky Brewster” (1984) More at IMDbPro »

Punky Brewster is a show about a girl named Penelope “Punky” Brewster. She is abandoned with her dog, Brandon, in a supermarket by her mother. She doesn’t want to stay in an orphanage, and finally befriends Henry Warnimont who adopts her.

WHAT THE FUCK???

If my kids ever caught wind of this show, they would never go to Trader Joe’s with me again!

I was so jealous of Punky and her treehouse and her mismatched hair elastics and clothes…I didn’t give two shits that she got left at a store and was residing with a child molester….

Blossom’s mother didn’t even have the decency to die, she just flat out left Blossom and her brothers in the dust and moved to Paris.

We thought we were safe with a show that was actually called “Valerie’s Family,” but no sorry….she died too.

The producers thought if they just changed the show’s name and showed their aunt in the opening credits playing football with the family…nobody would mind the mom being dead.      They were right.

Interestingly enough, I hadn’t realized that I spent my entire childhood watching motherless children navigate the world, until right now.

It’s making me think my kids should toughen up and watch the news.

But then last week I accidentally told them about something in the news and it didn’t go well.  When they started to step into a sink-hole in my neighbor’s yard on the way to the bus stop I freaked out.

“Don’t do that!” I yelled frantically.

“Why?” they asked with their feet raised about to jump in.

Wanting to really be effective in my explanation I said, “It could open up and swallow you up and you could die!”

“How do you know?” Michael asked fearfully.

Against my better judgement, (and we were on our way to the bus stop - so you know that’s not when I am at my best) I said:

“Well a man in Florida was sleeping and a sinkhole under his bed opened up and swallowed him and his house and he died.”

They stared back at me wide-eyed and started peering down into the hole.

Alright, this seems small and admittedly I should maybe lay off the news myself..but you just never know these days….

There have been nights that they say they can’t sleep because they are afraid of sinkholes.

Before Disney, they cried and said they didn’t want to go because they could die in Florida.

And the best was when Sam decided he was going to participate in the “Tell” part of Show and Tell and started to “tell” his kindergarten class about the man in Florida.

What proves to me that I am right to shelter my kids is that the kindergarten teacher realized what Sam was about to say and quickly whisked him away and changed the subject before 20 children could lose sleep from enjoy his story.

Mention current events again and your expelled….Got it??

THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS GOING OUT TO ALL OF THE VICTIMS OF THE BOSTON MARATHON TRAGEDY….HERE’S HOPING FOR A “BREAKING NEWS”-FREE WEEK!!!  PLEASE SHARE THIS POST ON FACEBOOK IF YOU REMEMBER THESE SHOWS!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

What I learned about human beings in Disney World

I don’t want you to think by last week’s post I didn’t enjoy my vacation to Disney World with my family.  I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by how much fun we had.

I was envisioning myself miserably waiting on long lines in the heat surrounded by people gnawing on turkey legs.

Wait…that is what happened, but somehow it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.

Plus all along I kept thinking about all the material I was gathering for my blog!!

All that waiting in line sure did give me a picture of human behavior.  I took a few pictures to capture what I was seeing, the funniest thing is that I took pictures of people right up in their grill and none of them noticed!!

I guess it was the magic of Disney!

TEN THINGS I LEARNED ABOUT HUMANS IN DISNEY WORLD:

1 – Crying children don’t bother people:

It actually started on the plane.  There was a baby crying nonstop on the plane.  It was making my skin crawl and when I looked around to see if everyone was annoyed, it seemed nobody cared.

Then when we got to Disney World people were constantly strolling around screaming babies.  Toddlers would have full-blown melt-downs at every turn, and the parents could be seen happily posing in front of Cinderella’s castle with Mickey ears on, as though all was right with the world.

The best was the people who dragged crying toddlers through a line for a ride that they didn’t want to go on.  The kid would be screaming that he hated Pirates in line for Pirates of the Caribbean, and the parents would just be ignoring him, pushing him through the line nonchalantly.

2-People are generally very hungry and thirsty:

I mentioned last week how alarmed I was to find that everyone drank enormous sodas all day in Disney World.  I also found it interesting that people seemed to need lots of snacks throughout the day.  People milled around eating ice cream, popcorn, pretzels, and of course, huge turkey legs.

We kind of got sucked in to this non-stop eating.  Any beverage or snack we purchased was always marketed as being “refillable.” Apparently people just love “refilling” every open container they own.

For example, we bought a small plastic container of popcorn for $8 and then we were able to refill it all day for 99 cents a refill.    We ate our weight in popcorn that day.

Mr. Gaga bought a “refillable” pilsner glass that proved to be very enjoyable as well.

3 – Couples go on romantic getaways to Disney World:

To each his own, but I don’t quite understand how this could be a romantic getaway.  Have I mentioned the screaming toddlers? The huge beverages?  The enormous people running over your toes with their motorized carts?

How about Aruba or Turks and Caicos for your romantic pleasures?

That way when we are in line for a ride, we don’t have to look at this:

I am sorry – but get a room please….and also while you are at it can you please wear shorts and a shirt that fit? People who are behind you in line for 45 minutes with their children shouldn’t have to look at this.

4 – People are obsessed with Mickey Mouse:

The joy that people get from this mouse and his friends is shocking.  When the characters come out people wait in line for hours to get their autograph!!!

I find this amazing.  I hate to be “Debbie Downer” but, we all know that this is some weird guy in a mouse suit right?

And the ears? People wear those ears like nobody’s business.  It’s like when people walk around with Santa Hats on at Christmastime, they think it’s perfectly normal just to walk around pretending that they are Mickey Mouse all day.

This is a very common scene…tremendously large humans with Mickey Mouse ears on with huge sodas….

5 – Pregnant women can be unstoppable:

Kudos to the dozens of pregnant women I saw pushing strollers, waiting in lines, eating turkey legs…..

Sorry, but if I was pregnant this place would seem like hell on earth.

I would be puffy from all the popcorn and the heat, my feet would be swollen, my legs would hurt and I would probably want to cry myself from all of the crying children.  Oh yeah, and guess what?

You can’t go on rides when you’re pregnant so you can spend your time in the stroller park waiting for the rest of your party.

6 - What’s a stroller park you ask?

It’s where you park your stroller while you go on a ride.

This is a typical group of strollers outside a ride….

One might think that strollers would be limited to children that are very small and need to be strolled around due to size and age.  That is not the case.

Apparently in America, there is no size or age to large for a stroller.

Humongous children are placed in double strollers in Disney World and pushed around by their indulgent parents so that the children don’t have to get too tired or exert themselves too much.

It can prove difficult to navigate through the park, watching out for lazy people in motorized carts and these parents and their adult-sized children in strollers.

Even yelling out “What the fuck?!” loudly as a woman ran over my entire foot with her man-child in a stroller, didn’t stop her as she zipped off into the sunset.

I mean look how much larger she is than the stroller!! She’s a tween for god sakes!! If that guy let’s go – the whole thing will tip over!

Just an idea….they should call it “Stroller World.”

7 – People are good:

I don’t know if it was because everyone is under some sort of magical spell or something, but people were so nice and so pleasant in Disney World.  Any staff we encountered were very helpful and cheerful, and happy!

Also, in stroller world, people leave their strollers out unattended with cameras, bags, baby supplies, etc.  and nobody worries about stealing!

It’s a downright utopia!

8 – Injuries do not deter people from enjoying Disney World:

I don’t know what is happening in this country, maybe people aren’t being careful…maybe they aren’t drinking enough milk and their bones aren’t up to par….but I have never seen so many injured people in my life.

Everywhere I looked people with broken limbs were hopping on rides and gnawing on turkey legs!

People with casts for broken bones or other serious injuries could be found in every line.  Take it easy people! Maybe you should be home resting!!

They all just limp along finding another ride to go on or turkey bone to lick…

Look how this guy balances his massive soda with a broken hand!! These injured people are so determined!!!

9 – It’s a great place to cure yourself of OCD:

If I pump gas or touch a cart at the grocery store, I can’t even think straight until I douse myself and the children with gallons of hand sanitizer.  We recently went bowling and I scrubbed inside all the holes in the balls before I would let the kids use them.  I went to Disney World armed with wipes and hand sanitizer galore.  It proved to be fruitless.

The very first ride we went on was Star Tours in Hollywood Studios.  When we got through the line, and were about to go on the ride, we were told to grab a pair of 3D glasses.  I stared helplessly at the glasses and weighed the options.

Could I convince my family to go on the ride without glasses to avoid the bacteria that was thriving on these plastic germ-bombs?

I took a deep breath and put them on and enjoyed the ride.  I soon realized that every other ride we went on required these disgusting glasses and that we had to touch filthy seatbelts and get splashed with filthy water and sit on filthy seats throughout the day.

It was hopeless.  I threw in the towel to the point where I stopped even feeling dirty.

When we got to Mexico in Epcot I only thought about lice for a fleeting moment as I snapped this picture of Michael and Sam.

10 –People like to waste their money:

Everywhere you turn there is Disney World merchandise for sale.  It’s insane.  Everywhere you turn your kids are asking for something.  Everywhere you turn people are buying the craziest Mickey Mouse stuff.

I have enough problems with my messy house, the last thing I need is 4 pairs of Mickey Mouse ears lying around….

Or Pirates of the Caribbean swords…..

Or pirate hooks…..

Or two $25 light sabers…..

Or Star Wars light saber key chains

Or Disney World refrigerator magnets

Or a Universal Studios mug…..

Or a Mickey Mouse Christmas ornament…..

Or Mickey Mouse salt and pepper shakers…..

Or a Spongebob ball

Or a Japanese headband from Epcot

Or a Mexican instrument-thingy of some sort from Epcot

Or a Spongebob shirt

Well what do you know…I got the merchandise fever and purchased everything listed above…..

like an idiot.

WELL ACTUALLY AT LEAST I HAD THE GOOD SENSE TO NOT BUY THE $25 MOUSE EARS!!!!  CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME!!  THANK YOU!!!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA