Jody Mace | Freelance Writer

I was just informed that this Sunday is Mother’s Day, and I got to thinking about the Mother’s Days I had when my kids were babies and toddlers. As much as I was in love with them, I have to admit that the best thing was when my husband would just give me a break from taking care of them. He’d take them to the park and leave me, for a while, with a quiet house and no diapers to change, nobody to make a sandwich for. Knowing that I could absolutely trust him to take care of them, that he could take care of them as well as (although differerently) I did was the best gift I could get. Having a partner who is every bit as bonded to your kid, who agrees when you whisper, “She’s the cutest one on this playground, isn’t she?” is something to value. If you’re lucky enough to have a partner like that, my advice is to not worry when he (or she) doesn’t do things exactly like you do. Let your partner develop his own style of caring.

This all brings me to a gorgeous little book that husband/wife writing team James DiProperzio and Jennifer Margulis called “The Baby Bonding Book For Dads: Building a Closer Connection With Your Baby.”

Don’t think of it as a counterpart to the ubiquitous “What to Expect” books, or, really, any of the parenting books that moms tend to read. This is more inspiration than instruction. For the guy who’s about to become a dad for the first time, the book gives examples of how bonding happens between dads and babies during everyday activities and care. The authors, parents of three kids, show how bonding happens all the time - when you’re changing the diaper as well as just gazing into those eyes. It would be difficult for a father-to-be to read this little book and see the breathtaking photos and not be at least a little bit anxious to get his hands on that new baby and start falling in love.

I can’t imagine a sweeter gift at a baby shower for the often-neglected dad.

And moms? The dads in the photos are damn hot.

I admit that I’m lame about blog contests. First off, I ask people to do very difficult things, like write poems or help my husband remember our neighbor’s name (Marla, sounds like Darla from the Little Rascals, thanks Megan.) Then it takes me forever to mail the prizes. Then the prizes are kind of dumb. Like the cowed greyhound that I sent to Donna Koppelman, which arrived with, apparently several broken limbs, due to the fact that they had already been broken and glued back together and my poor packing. (Plus I insisted that she prominently display the greyhound in her home.)

But I recently was one of the winners in by the lbs’s blog contest. First of all, all I had to do was to say the weirdest search term that brought people to my blog. It happened to be “llama penis.” Even though I hardly ever write about llama penises. Then she sent the prize very quickly. The prize was supposed to be a DVD of a Jane Austen movie. (And I love me some Jane Austen movies, even when they don’t involve Colin Firth wearing a dripping wet shirt.) But she gave me more. Much more. She gave me a specially made llama bookmark with a quote on it, A SECOND Jane Austen movie, a llama notepad, and much, much more. It was like a dream come true, especially because I forgot all about the fact that I was supposed to get a prize.

But I just want to warn you all not to expect me to improve my blog contest performance. I can’t compete with that.

On a car ride to a pizza place, I asked my family, “What skill would you want to be really good at if you didn’t have to train for it, practice, or get any education for it?”

Answers ranged from:

Karate
Playing many musical instruments
Speaking foreign languages

to (getting a little weirder)

Telling the future (some disputed that this is a skill)
Time travel (somebody had to one-up the “telling the future” person)
Surgery

to

Life

What skill would you want if it came without cost?

——

Then commenced the argument over which pizza place to go to.

My son said, “You’re just choosing exactly what I don’t want.”

I answered, “Yes, that’s our algorithm.”

He said, “What does this have to do with Al Gore?

My son is reading a book of trivia, which means that for about 30 minutes a night after he is tucked in at night, he emerges from his room and tells us yet another unlikely fact.

C: Did you know that it only takes 7 pounds of force to rip off a human ear?

2 minutes later….

C: Did you know that left-handed people have a life expectancy of 9 years less than right-handed people?
me: That’s terrible!
C: I know! (pause) I’m right-handed.
me: yeah. Me too.

5 minutes later….

C: Did you know that a pople became a Harlem Globetrotter?
me: That is absolutely false. No pope ever became a Harlem Globetrotter.
C: (Reading) “In 2000, Pope John Paul II was made an honorary Globetrotter.
me: Honorary. That means “not real.”
C: Oh. I thought it meant “really good.”
me: Trust me. The pope was not really good at basketball.
C: How do you know that?
me: Because of the robe. He would have tripped.
C: Oh.

Miley Cyrus plays innocent

So she posed for Vanity Fair, for photographer Annie Leibovitz. Now she thinks that the photos were too racy and is embarrassed. I haven’t seen the finished pictures yet, so I don’t know how they are. From the “behind the scenes” photos on the Vanity Fair website, the pictures don’t appear very racy at all to me.

Disney responded:

A Disney Channel spokesman, Patti McTeague, said in a statement on Sunday that the photos were meant to sell magazines.

“Unfortunately, as the article suggests, a situation was created to deliberately manipulate a 15-year-old in order to sell magazines,” her statement said.

But I’m astounded about something. According to the behind the scenes photos at the Vanity Fair website, both her parents were there. So if someone was manipulated, who was it, and who was doing the manipulating? Certainly her parents consented to what happened.

And I have to laugh at Disney talking about manipulating teenagers in order to sell magazines. Pot? I’d like you to meet kettle.

What I think is that Miley is not at all embarrassed. I think that Disney has responded by encouraging her to say that, because, since Miley is only 15, they should have a couple more good years of her appearing squeaky clean. I think that by posing for somewhat sexy pictures and then fanning herself and saying, “Oh my, I didn’t know they’d be like that!” it’s a way for her to have her cake and eat it too. She shows her sexy side, to appeal to old men, but then firmly aligns herself in the world of little girls by implying she was manipulated.

In the words of a former Disney ingenue, “I’m not that innocent.”

We have a longstanding joke in our family that started on a long car ride when I had to make up a story to keep the kids from clawing out each other’s eyes. I told them that their dad was so smart as a child that he went to a special school called “Bright Children Of the South.” The particulars of this joke-story could be rather offensive to other southerners, but if you’re familiar with the Jewish stories from Chelm (if not, google them) you’ll get the idea. Let’s just say that my husband and his classmates did not come out well in these stories, which have been added to regularly through the years.

One day my kids were making fun of my husband and finally he said, “You know, YOU’RE from the south. YOU’RE bright children of the south!” This was eye-opening for them, because although they have lived in the south their entire lives they were unaware of the fact that they were, indeed, southern children, because 1) I’m a Yankee, and they inherited that through my line, and 2) They argued that they live in NORTH Carolina, which means it’s the north. Which also doesn’t make them seem exceptionally bright.

So I was going through all the possible names, keeping in mind that if I homeschool my son long enough this name will show up on transcripts, etc. when suddenly I thought, “Hey! He’s a bright child! And he’s in the south!” So why not BCOTS Academy? Nobody has to know what BCOTS stands for. Well, except anyone who reads this blog.

I’m finally quitting my library job. I hope that the fact that I’m a short-timer isn’t too apparent to the children, although my instructions today to 1st graders who weren’t paying attention to my story to “Look at me in a fascinated manner….just pretend you’re acting in a play” might have given it away.

I’m going to be homeschooling my 10 year old son this coming school year. Yes, I’m relieving his beleagured teachers! I expect them to be giving me flowers, etc. He’s a very inquisitive kid and has never really fit into the school program that well. He has so many things he’s really interested in learning so I figured we’d start there. For example he’s all about the French Revolution right now and has plans to recreate the storming of the Bastille in Legos.

So I’ve been occasionally taking him out of school to go to park days with a local homeschool group, so that he can get to know some homeschooled kids. Yesterday he won the admiration of all the other boys for being the absolute best t playing hide and seek, winning 8 of 10 matches (not including the ones where kids cheated, he told me.) His secret? Hiding in trash cans.

In the state of North Carolina, I’m required to send them a letter informing them that I’m opening a homeschool. I’ve got to give it a name. They recommend not using your family name or your address. So I’ve got to think of something. Maybe this could be a contest. Full disclosure: I haven’t sent out the prizes for the last contest yet. But don’t worry, you will get them! This contest has no prize. i’m just looking for suggestions.

What should I call this school?

So when my teenaged daughter says she’s not going to the school dance because it’s no fun because “her friends don’t dance” is there any doubt what I will do? Do I have a choice? I didn’t think so. I have to point out that she can dance if she wants to. She can leave her friends behind. Her friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance then they’re no friends of mine. And not only that, but I give her leave to act real rude and totally removed, and act like an imbecile.

It’s not my fault if she won’t dance.

bythelbs talked about the very strange and freaky search terms that led readers to her blog, and is even having a fabulous contest for other bloggers for weird search terms. So I thought I’d check my own blog stats. Here’s how some folks are getting here.

Sadly, more than half of the searchers were looking for “scary mace” or some variant of that. Way more than were searching for Jody Mace, which hurts my feelings just a little bit.

Other search terms:

1. weird mascot
2. miniature rubber chickens Yup, get ‘em here
3. write free essay on brain Listen, I’ll write an essay on brain but it won’t be free, pal
4. english word for pat of butter As far as I know it is “pat of butter”
5. how big is a llama’s penis Um, big enough?
6. llama having sex with a woman What? I never!
7. strawberry battery experimentSounds dangerous.
8. preschool planning for my sister ate one hare Just one? That just whets the appetite

So however you got here, I’m glad you did. Stick around awhile. Except possibly the person looking for a llama having sex with a woman. You can move on.

I normally eschew all TV news and politics, mainly because it makes me want to scream. However, last night I decided to be a responsible citizen and watch the debate between Clinton and Obama. I’m glad I did, because I learned so much. For instance, I learned that you can judge someone’s patriotism by whether they are wearing a flag lapel pin or not. This was a huge relief for me, because it’s certainly simpler to just look at someone’s lapel, rather than sift through their actions over years. You can safely assume that if someone is not wearing a flag pin (note: neither candidate wore one last night; nor did the inquisitors) that person hates America. In fact, that’s how we know for sure that Osama Bin Laden is against America. He never wears an American flag pin. Otherwise, we’d have a difficult time telling how he felt. And it made me think how great things would be if we could just get one of those flag pins onto him. Then he wouldn’t be anti-American anymore.

Now that I know how simple it is, I think I will use this “lapel pin” technique to find out everything I need to know about everybody.

For example, today I met a teacher at the school which my daughter might attend next year. Obviously I want to know as much about her as possible. Here is what I learned:

1. She is anti-American. (no flag pin)
2. She is anti-Semitic. (no Jewish star pin)
3. She is anti-peace. (no peace pin)
4. She is anti-my-dog. (no “I love schnoodles” pin)
5. She is anti-punk rock. (no safety pin)
6. She is anti-bowling. (no bowling pin)
7. She is anti-baking. (no rolling pin)

And this is the person I’m suppose to trust with my child? What is this country coming to? Personally I’m going to remember from now on to wear as many pins as possible to prove that I’m patriotic and like peace, etc.

Or maybe I’ll go back to not watching any TV news or politics.