Genius or Exploitation?

I watched Adam Lambert on Regis and Kelly today.

You know, they call him "Glambert," the guy with the black nailpolish and eyeliner ("guyliner" to be precise) who everyone was convinced would win American Idol but didn't? Yeah, that guy. I really enjoyed watching him on AI, but after his interview with Reege and Kelly, I'm not sure how I feel about him anymore.

He told the hosts how instead of viewing AI as a competition with other singers, he looked at it as a competition with himself, that each week he strove to perform better than the week before. Loved that Zen-like twist on competing.

Then he went on to say that he approached his audition for and experience on AI not as a competition to win, but rather as a platform to become a mainstream artist. Sure explains his reaction to Kris Allen's win, and yes, Jennifer Hudson also said something similar, but for some reason this left a sour taste in my mouth.

Maybe because it's so soon after the finale that Adam has exposed AI for what it is - not just a means to discover as-yet undiscovered talents, but also a platform for aspiring (and semi-seasoned) artists to springboard their careers.

I wonder how Simon Fuller feels about this.

Kiddie Kritique

I admit it. The title sucks today. Can't think of anything more clever right now.

So this afternoon while T was at his program, J and I watched some television. The first show we watched was his current favorite, Hi-5. In the beginning, as with most children's shows, I found it kind of annoying, but after a few (hundred) viewings it's grown on me. The songs are catchy and, most important, the content is age appropriate and rather unoffensive. After Hi-5 was a program called Hip Hop Harry.

Hip Hop Harry. Where to begin? As you might gather from the title, the show features a character named Hip Hop Harry, which is actually some person in a bear(?) costume. But not just any bear, oh no. Let's just say that Harry's costume was probably designed by Jack Donaghy - oversized T-shirt with the manufacturer's label on the lower left front, baggy shorts, humongous white sneakers with untied laces spanning the eyelets, and let's not forget the massive "H" chest medallion hanging from what appears to be some sort of gold drapery roping.

The show also features some children and a teenager or childishly dressed adult, all stereotypically attired with oversized pants and shirts for the boys, and cropped jackets for the girls.

I was so dizzy from the camera work - arcing pans, quick zoom in/zoom outs - that it was hard to focus on the dreck these kids were saying. Today's episode was all about how hip hop music contains elements of other genres - classical, country, etc. Naturally, there was the setup dialogue ("I love hip hop music! Is there any other kind?") accompanied by the requisite mugging to the camera, followed by H3 (takes too long to type Hip Hop Harry so many times, so from this point forward, we'll call him "H3") explaining from behind his two turntables and a microphone that yes, Virginia, there are other kinds of music played on ... gasp! ... REAL INSTRUMENTS (demonstrated by the kids with FAKE, SYNTHESIZED EXAMPLES), and if you just give it a chance, doggone it, you just might like all kinds of music.

I think I'd like to meet H3's head writer and the suit who greenlit the show and punch them both. Kids deserve so much better than this crap.

Here we go again...

Right now it's hard for me to sit down long enough to type coherently. I feel so frustrated and angry. I want to scream, to run around, to punch somebody (specifically the hubster, but we'll get into that in a minute), and just pretty much act as maturely as one of the boys.

I am so aggravated with the hubby. I don't know how to get it through his thick skull that I will be incredibly moody, and will have little control over myself when I am. He seems to think that I can control my mood swings despite being three weeks postpartum, hormones swilling about and all. And of course I'm also one of those people who can't see straight when they get angry, compounding the problem.

Gah, time to get back into therapy.

Booby Prize?

I thought everything was going just fine with breastfeeding, but apparently that is not the case. Turns out that S only gained two ounces since his two-day checkup. The ped wants me to supplement him with formula (so don't want to go down that path...). Of course I've been pretty much obsessed with this news since I got back from the ped's office, and even called and emailed the lactation consultant in an attempt to figure out what's going on. Maybe the swelling under S's nipples going down affected his weight gain. And maybe I'm really reaching here.

You'd think that I'd practically be able to teach a class on breastfeeding after my experiences with J and T. Oh well, it's always something, right?

aaaaand, we're back!

It's been over three months since I've posted. So many things, both large and small, have happened. Here are some examples:

• At my 36 week checkup, the OB follows up her hello with, "So you're having another boy?" to which I reply, "I don't know, am I?" I was rather pissed, mostly because I didn't want to know the gender of the baby. I sincerely hope her first reaction was "Oh, shit."
• The rest of my pregnancy went without incident, for which I'm grateful.
• T's second birthday party got snowed out, which was kind of a bummer, but I'm glad he's only two and was therefore unaware of what happened. My parents came over and the six of us had dinner and cupcakes (which were super yummy) to celebrate.
• Christmas was pretty uneventful, which is how I wanted it. I could tell that AM's boyfriend hasn't been around many pregnant women, because he kept asking me if I was about to go into labor. So glad that one of my OBs told me that it was okay to have a small glass of wine.
• My due date (12/26) came and went. I was scheduled for an induction on New Year's Eve.
• I was on the fence as to which date I "preferred" for the baby to arrive (as if it were up to me). NYE is a cool day for a birthday, but part of me wanted January 1 for silly, selfish reasons - psychological space between T's birthday and this baby's, a different birthstone, and not having to worry about the school cutoff.
• Turns out that S made the decision for us - he decided to arrive shortly after midnight on New Year's Day. Made the front page of the local paper and were on the local cable news channel. That was neat, but felt kind of weird. I wondered if I was worrying too much about my family's information being broadcast (literally) to thousands of people in the area.

That's what I've been up to. Don't know how current I'll keep this since I now have three boys to chase after.

Stupidest Comment Ever?

I was at Burger King today, waiting for my lunch, when some guy said the stupidest thing ever.

A bunch of us customers are milling around the counter, waiting for our food. One guy's order number is called, and when he realizes they forgot his drink he tells them. While the girl behind the counter is making his shake, he comments on how they should be giving him napkins, straws, ketchup, etc. So I say "There's so little courtesy anymore."

He starts ranting about common sense. And then he drops this little gem:
"People don't have common sense no more. Common sense, that's real important. That's why I'm voting for Sarah Palin."

Where's the Darwin Awards committee when you need them?

Note to Self:

You have a backbone. Use it.

Phrases to try out:

• Thanks so much for coming to visit. I hate to be abrupt, but I need to put T down for a nap and take one myself, so I'm going to have to see you to the door. Thanks again!
• (part B to the above) Thanks for offering to stay, but no thanks. We're good.
• If I don't get a nap in, it affects me for the rest of the day, so I'm going to say goodbye now. Thanks for coming to see the boys!

I'm sure most of you can figure out the backstory here. I need to man up and stop trying to drop hints, because certain people are either incapable of picking them up or flat out choose to ignore them. I can do this. My health and sanity are worth some discomfort.