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‘Juno’: It’s a must-rent!

By LucyB | Saturday, May 3, 2008, 01:55 AM

Most parents don’t get baby sitters often enough.

Skyline, the schoolyard and ‘Spiderwick’ notwithstanding, we don’t go out to eat often enough, we don’t get together with friends often enough, and we definitely don’t go to movies often enough.

Some parents I know have never even been away from their children overnight, which I think is a darn shame. I mean, I love my kids to the core of my being, but a weekend away with Hubby is pure bliss.

We have to steal our ‘me-time’ moments when we can. That’s why I say: Thank God for DVDs!

We’ve rushed the kids to bed more Saturday nights than I can count, eager to make nachos, mix a cocktail and settle back with a good movie. Last Saturday night — with “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” tempting us from its little jewel box atop the TV — I turned to Hubby and asked if he was ready to put the kids to bed. He said, “It’s only 7:30!”

Maybe I get a little too eager for “date night” to begin.

Anywho, on with my mini review of ‘Juno,” the best movie I’ve seen in a while.

You’ve read the reviews: Wise-cracking pregnant teen makes hard choice. But, oh, ‘Juno’ is so much more than that. It’s the kind of movie that you’re sad to see end.

The talented cast — including Oakwood’s own Allison Janney — created quirky characters that really stick with you. Watching the dynamics between father and daughter, stepmom and stepdaughter, pregnant friend and nonpregnant friend, prospective adoptive parents, and the teenage lovers felt so real, it hardly seemed like they were acting.

Ellen Page simply charms the screen. The scenes have this duality thing going, portraying real-life scary issues with the floaty feeling of teenage surreality. Like “Napoleon Dynamite” with an edge.

And the choice that Juno made surprised even me, someone who prides herself in being able to unfold a movie’s plot before anyone else in the room.

‘Juno’ is sweet, witty and wry. Give it a try!

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Cloth diapers — are they nuts?!

By LucyB | Tuesday, April 22, 2008, 01:34 AM

Just in time for Earth Day: An actual cloth diaper service for the Dayton and Cincinnati area — just like in the olden times!

Well, better, actually. Way back when my mom started having babies — in the days before video baby monitors and car seats (!) — disposable diapers had yet to hit the superstores, which hadn’t been invented yet, either. She tells horror stories of soaking smelly diapers in an even smellier pale. In the immortal words of Boris Karloff, and I quote: “Stink. Stank. Stunk.” YUCK!

No wonder she had her girls potty-trained at 12 months.

But it sounds like a new business started by my co-worker Amy Hruschak and her husband PJ has gotten around that problem. No soaking needed at home! Good Natured Baby uses a washing process developed by the National Association of Diaper Services consisting of several hot-water rinses, minimal bleach use, balanced pH levels and monthly bacterial testing.

From the looks of their informative Web site, Good Natured Baby Diaper Service in Liberty Twp. has solved all the problems for you. What they’re offering is a healthier alternative for your baby, and for the earth.

For just $20 a week, you can be absolved of the guilt that most of us feel when we toss yet another soiled Pamper into the garbage. I don’t even want to THINK about how many diapers our family has added to the world’s waste pile!

For those of you who would like to take a step torward a healthier planet, but are unsure of making a commitment, Good Natured Baby even offers a two-week trial period.

So if you’ve wondered about cloth diapers, give the Hruschaks’ site a look-see. It’s a noble undertaking by a nature lovin’ family. I wish them much success on their bottom line!

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Birthdays and braces

By LucyB | Wednesday, April 16, 2008, 01:41 AM

At some point this year, I lost track of my own age (they call that dementia, don’t they?) and thought I had already turned 42, thereby missing part of my 41st year.

I didn’t realize my mistake till my Birthday Eve. It went something like this:

Me (to self, looking forlornly into the mirror): “(Heavy sigh) I’m almost 43. Another year bites the dust. (another sigh)”

Me (to self, in surprised voice after doing the math): “Hey, wait a minute! I’m only going to be 42!”

I have renewed vigor now. I’ve come up with a plan on how I can regain my lost youth: I’ve decided that this will be my 41st birthday, since I was cheated out of the full year the first go-round. This is will be 41(b) — like a 401(k) only younger. And I promise I’ll jump to 43 next year. …

I’m going home at 2 a.m. and waking up Hubby to share a glass of birthday champagne and a fancy DLM pastry a friend at work brought me tonight. Hubby and I both have April birthdays — I’m only seven days older — so we feel it’s our birth right to party the whole week long.

And thus begins the annual Week of Old Fart Jokes at our house, with Hubby never missing an opportunity to remind me that I’m MUCH older than he is. …

Hubby took the kids and the Birthday Girl to “breakfast for dinner” at First Watch (a Newspapers in Education event), which was a big sacrifice for him. He may be the only person in America who doesn’t like pancakes, omelettes and bacon at any time of the day. Weird, huh? He should consider it payback for all those jokes. …

Best present ever: After spending the afternoon of my birthday at the orthodontist’s office with my 9-year-old daughter, listening to scary talk about the actual out-of-pocket cost of a perfect smile and seeing scary pictures —no one looks good with their lips peeled back— of her crowded canines, our wonderful ortho (Dr. Stephen Burke) said we should take it slow and wait to see what happens as she loses more baby teeth.

No braces yet! Hooray! A 6-month reprieve for my wallet! …

Speaking of expensive tastes: The good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, my daughter will have her first double-digit birthday in France this summer. She is so excited she just may burst by then.

And who could blame her? The anticipation of patisseries, French cheeses, and melt-in-your-mouth pate has kept me going these long winter months.

Happy Birthday to Me!

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Does your minivan really need two DVD players?

By LucyB | Thursday, April 10, 2008, 01:48 AM

I must rant.

I was shocked and appalled when I saw the commercial for the latest version of the Chrysler Town and Country minivan.

The Scene: A normal-looking mom, standing with two normal-looking kids, tells a sales dude that they’ll be taking an eight-hour trip.

The horror! Whatever will she do?

Any parent’s reasonable answer? Buy a minivan with two — count ‘em, two — DVD players!

(Click here to see the overindulgent “mother’s helper” in action.)

Your children will never have to interact with one another, or you, again.

Think how proud you’ll be, flying by languid landscapes and breathtaking sunsets. Zipping past roadside Americana and historic landscapes. And all the while, the kids can zone out to the umpteenth showing of both “Alvin and the Chipmunks” and “Pirates of the Caribbean” at the same time. It’s a dream come true!

How quiet your ride will be, and that’s the main goal of a family vacation, isn’t it? Forget all that mumbo-jumbo about “making memories for a lifetime.” Who really needs to see the World’s Largest Teapot, anyway?

Enough venting. Here’s my advice:

Pack a bag. Pack some snacks. Throw in a map and a book or two (for when the kids start crabbing at each other). Load the family into the minivan — the one without even a single DVD player — and head out on the highway.

Talk. Laugh. Sing. Enjoy each other’s company, for heaven’s sake.

Grab life by the gas cap while you still can.

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Wisdom of boys: Why God likes them better

By LucyB | Tuesday, April 8, 2008, 11:49 PM

I was walking on the schoolyard with a 7-year-old friend today when he slipped his backpack on backward, giving himself a great round belly full of books.

“Look,” he said, patting his protuberance. “It’s the new fashion.”

Then I decided to pick his little brain for blog fodder:

“That way you can see what it feels like to be pregnant,” I said with a grin, motioning to a pregnant mom across the lawn.

Belly Boy: “That’s just for girls.”

“I know. We’re lucky,” I said, leading him a little closer to the edge.

BB: “No, we’re lucky. We don’t have to worry about that stuff.”

Me: “Yeah, guys just have to sit around and act worried.”

BB: “… and worry about whether the baby’s a girl or not.”

That boy is wise beyond his years.

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Best mother-in-law joke ever

By LucyB | Thursday, April 3, 2008, 01:37 AM

Heard a hilarious joke the other day:

Mothers-in-law — can’t live with ‘em; can’t fit ‘em in a blender.

The humor is especially topical for me these days: My mom-in-law, whom I love dearly, really I do, has been staying at our house for nearly six months now. Oops, I mean six weeks. It just SEEMS longer.

No, I’m kidding about that. Really I am.

Last month, Grandma Helen had a bad fall (at church, of all places) and cracked her shoulder bone. Ouch! She’s 82 and really needed help during her one-armed recovery. So we packed her up and moved her into the baby’s room. Which we formerly called The Grandmas Room, anyway, so she felt right at home.

See, both of the grandmas in our family live far away, so their typical visits last a week or so. One week never seems long enough, though, and the kids always beg them to stay longer.

But this time, she had a chance to settle in and get her fill of the craziness that two working parents and three busy kids can create.

Yes, she saw dirty dishes, unswept floors and mounds of laundry. She had to maneuver around scattered toys and piles of clutter with her cane. She was dragged to basketball games, a school art show, the science fair. She was witness to myriad sibling squabbles and even a few mom-dad spats (but we won’t dwell on that).

She was the perfect patient. She endured five weeks of physical therapy without a complaint and did her recommended exercises religiously.

She was the perfect guest, too. She ate what we served, entertained the kids with her old-timey stories (she really did walk uphill both ways to school!) and kept me company during my endless hours of insomnia.

She makes a great pot of coffee every morning, and she’s been giving me sage advice about not spreading myself too thin (too bad I can’t take it). More importantly, she has a great wit — she even laughed at the joke about the blender.

Now she’s on the mend and heading back this weekend to her home in the hills of West Virginia.

She says she’s leaving with mixed emotions: She’s eager to get back to her many friends and Friday night bingo. But she’ll miss having her three youngest grandchildren kiss her goodnight.

Although she probably thinks her extended visit was a burden, it feels more like a blessing.

We’ll truly miss her. And her coffee.

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Make your Mother’s Day plans now!

By LucyB | Wednesday, March 26, 2008, 02:05 AM

My family enjoyed an absolutely wonderful Easter buffet at El Meson — delectable Hispanic-fusion food, attentive service, sunny decor, delicioso sangria.

The family-operated restaurant, located on Dixie Drive in West Carrollton (you can’t miss the stucco exterior), is not usually open on Sundays, but they do special holiday offerings.

Our first El Meson outing was on Mother’s Day a few years back, and it made quite an impression. The owner and his wife kept a close eye on the food, almost like preening parents wanting their children to stop the show. I’ll take that kind of personalized service over any chain, any day.

Even the kids have a great time there. It has fishbowls, fountains, frozen fruit drinks (with lids!), an array of sweets and a burrito bar. What’s not to love?

And each mom was given a small orchid corsage — a very thoughtful touch.

On Easter Sunday, we savored seafood empanadas, beef simmered in tomato sauce with yucca, seafood casserole, chicken with artichoke and sun-dried tomato, eggs with zucchini, Jamaican coleslaw and a garlicky potato salad that was so yummy I wanted to scoop some into my purse.

And our waitress could not have been better. It’s the best service we’ve had in the Dayton area.

So, if there are any dads or children reading this, plan now to make your mom’s day on May 11. Reserve a table at El Meson, add a pitcher of sangria to your tab, then let her go home and take a long afternoon nap. She deserves it!

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