The Mamahood

On the Fringe

I'd been hearing so much great buzz about "The Fringe" that I simply had to check it out. On paper, it seemed like the perfect show for me. In fact, it seemed quite a bit like another show I loved, about a decade ago: freaky sci-fi stuff, an attractive investigative team, some sort of murky conspiracy. But The Fringe is a much grayer, darker version of The X-Files, and lacks the spark and the humor that X-Files exhibited. (Maybe the relationship between the freaky dad and son is supposed be "funny," but mostly, the old man just freaks me out.) And truth be told, it simply bores me silly.

Unfortunately, I made the decision today to pull the plug: The Fringe will no longer darken my DVR. It'll leave me more room for a show I actually interesting on a few different levels: Life On Mars.

We Know The Economy's Tanking, But Buy Something Pretty

There's even more reason to zip through the commercials now...with the economy on the slide, even the commercials are depressing. Target has the same breezy music, but now they're trying to say, "Hey, we know you can't afford to hit the salon, now that you've lost your job and your house. So just come on over to our place and buy an $8 bottle of hair dye and everything will be just grand."

Just watching one commercial break with those disturbing messages is like drinking a six-pack of Red Bull for me...it's 12:45, and I'm wide awake, running numbers in my head to try to figure out how  I'm going to build up a nice fat emergency fund from the $11 currently residing in it. And praying that my big emergency will just be a need for coffee in the morning, as that's about how far $11 will go these days.

Reminiscing

Four years ago, my husband and I were watching the "sneak peek" of the Beijing Olympics at the close of the Athens games, and imagining that we'd be able to show our future daughter the beauty of her home country as it opened its doors to the world.

Little did I know, by the time the Beijing Olympics rolled around, we'd have two little girls from China watching with us. (Admittedly, our youngest only seemed to pay attention to the Olympics when people were clapping...she liked to clap along with them.) Tonight, I let my "big girl" stay up until the final fireworks died away, marveling at the spectacles China presented in the closing ceremonies and giggling over her crush on Michael Phelps (she asked me to invite him over for a playdate, and told me she'd be "a little shy" when he first came over).

It's a sentimental night for me, as I think of what the past four years have brought us. So much joy, so many things that were unexpected. And so many reasons to feel grateful and proud of the country that has given us so very much.

The Mommy Wars Meet Reality TV

For some truly riveting TV, check out The Secret Life of a Soccer Mom, now showing Monday nights on TLC. On the show, a long-time SAHM gets the chance to see the path she could have taken...if only she'd stayed in the job force. I missed the premiere, in which one SAHM tried out life as a fashion designer, and decided to take the job that was offered to her. But the episode I did catch was actually more fascinating to me: the SAHM got a chance to serve as a sous chef at a swanky restaurant. She stumbled at the beginning, but did great by the end, and was offered a job. After much soul searching and many tears, she decided to stay home with her kids instead.

What I love about the show? I think it's trying to illustrate that these are individual choices that each mom must make for themselves—and it's not an easy choice to make. There are times I second guess my decision to keep working (even though that's purely hypothetical, as we'd practically be living in the car without two incomes). But I've done what works for me—a career, but with flexibility. And I'm lucky to have that option.

The bad part of the show? Apparently, the show's message board have become a bitter battlefield, with virulent attacks on working moms, SAHMs. Let's get over it, girls. Until you walk a mile in another mom's stilettos or sneakers, you don't understand her. We all make the decision we think is best for us and for our families. And it's nobody's business but ours.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Ever since I started spending my days slogging page by page through a behemoth website, I found I had a lot more time to devote to watching TV (or at least, having it on in the background to keep myself from dozing). And one of the shows in heavy rotation on my DVR is Dexter, which is so wickedly good that I might just have to splurge on Showtime to watch the second season. It's probably the only time you'll ever root for a serial killer: Devilish Dexter (a forensics guy for the Miami police department) channels his dark side by hunting down criminals who can't be brought to justice. The cast is top notch: Michael C. Hall plays Dexter's sweet and scary sides equally well, and I love Jennifer Carpenter as his foul-mouthed sister with a heart of gold. If you can deal with jokes about dismemberment (and some close-up shots of body parts), this one's worth adding to your TV rotation.

Sex and the City, Redux (Times Two)

The writers' strike left us with slim pickings as far as nonreality TV shows to watch (and there are limits to the number of times I can watch a Grey's Anatomy rerun). So I started checking out the new stuff the networks started trotting out: In particular, I was interested in two virtually identical shows, Lipstick Jungle and Cashmere Mafia. Both were helmed by Sex and the City vets (LJ got the writer, CM got the producer) and featured remarkably similar concepts--longtime friends who just happen to be ultra successful and for the most part, married. Consider them, Sex and the City, 5 years later.

The plot points are so identical, they border on plagiarism: One married pal considers cheating (or does the deed); the working mom has a hard time juggling career and family; someone gets courted by a billionaire. And per usual, one works in fashion/beauty and one in the oh-so-glamorous magazine industry. (Which, I can assure you, is not as glamorous as it's portrayed on TV.) And both star one big, fancy movie star.

So which one got my vote? (And the almost thumbs-up from my husband, who calls them both, "Sucks in the City"...clever, that boy!) Quite clearly, it's smarter to reuse the writer from a hit show than the producer: Lipstick Jungle has the snappy repartee, the smart characters who are powerful (but ultimately, very likeable). Even after the first episode, I could relate. Cashmere Mafia just left me feeling flat...bland and boring dialogue, and cardboard characters who I couldn't care less about.

So if you're looking for something entertaining to while away the hours until the TV folks cobble together brand new episodes of your favorites, Lipstick Jungle is worth an hour investment.

Going "Old School"

Sure, we watch our fair share of Pixar movies and Ni Hao, Kai-Lans...but nothing's more fun than sharing some of my childhood favorites with my daughter. We've just introduced her to the joys of Scooby Doo (or "Scoobs," as she likes to call him), and I love watching her giggle and want to act out scenes from the shows (and unlike her mom, my wise-beyond-her-years baby chooses brains over beauty, and wants to be Velma instead of Daphne).

Our bookshelves are stocked with Beatrix Potter (for now) and Beverly Cleary and Nancy Drew (for later). And watching the Wizard of Oz is a special event in our house, as it was when I was growing up.

So, what "classics" from your youth have you passed on to your little ones?

"Interactive" Entertainment

I finally realized what's been bugging me about shows like Dora the Explorer and now, Ni Hao, Kai-Lan. It's the fact that kids are encouraged to "interact" with the TV, as Dora and Kai-Lan encourage them to answer questions, participate in an activity, etc. While I'm all for encouraging kids to get up and move instead of tuning out in front of the TV, I think this whole "interactive" entertainment drive is only leading to one of my biggest pet peeves: people who talk during movies.

An occasional whisper to clear up a plot point isn't so bad, but it seems like more and more people these days are carrying on full-blown conversations in the movies. Loudly. And yes, I am that person who turns and gives dirty looks and shushes the offending parties. And when that doesn't work, I have been known to take extreme measures.

Back before we become animated movie aficionados, my husband and I would venture out to adult movies, like Lord of the Rings—where we expected people to behave like adults. At Return of the King, the guy next to me kept a constant stream of conversation with his girlfriend, at an annoying volume. At first, I figured the guy was helping his gal understand the complexities of the Tolkien universe (I've been known to need a few whispered lines of explanation)...until I realized they were talking, at length, about what they were doing after the movie.

And so I elbowed him—hard—right in the ribs. And he kept quiet for the rest of the movie. It wasn't exactly my finest moment (it's probably the only instance when I've ever resorted to violence to solve anything), but maybe it taught at least one person to behave properly at the movies. And no, it wasn't me.