Angry Mother tries to be all technical and s***

Angry Mother has gone twitter. Now there is a button in the right hand column that you can click on, and something should happen. I don't really know what, but aren't you keen to find out?
Am trying to figure out how to automatically feed my blogposts to the twitter account.
That could take all day.

ABC = F1F2F3

Will book app's kill the paperback the same way as video killed the radio star? I have no idea, but I found this article from the Guardian UK quite interesting. Personally, they would have to drag me to my death before I stopped encouraging my kids to read and enjoy books in their spare time, but I do love me a nice little Ipad for those (in)frequent times when all else has been tried and failed and you just need them to be quiet for a little while.

I certainly won't mind Leo playing interactive games associated with his fave stories, but would I pretend that his reading quota had been filled for the day? Absolutely not.
It will be interesting to see how parents will use these apps and what the research will say a few years down the line.
If I were to put money on it, the debate will sound pretty similar to the one on video and computer games.

I fight for my right to never be a Victoria's Secret.

Some days ago, a male friend posted on Facebook that he had joined a group who were trying to get a shopping mall to move the playground away from their current site, as they are situated right outside Victoria's Secret.
I admit that my initial reaction was one of bemused cynicism:
- Come on. Are we not taking our need to shelter our kids from the devils sins a little too far? This is overkill. What's a semi-naked body when we have plenty bigger issues to tackle?
His reply was straight and honest:

- I like boobies as much as the next man. But my point is not the boobies. It is about the message about what body images we are sending out to our children. We are saying that these skinny, photo shopped bodies are a standard from which we are measuring perfection these days.

He has a very good point. And I admit, again, that I have become too blasé about the visual images we surround ourselves with. Just because I am so the opposite to the type of woman who is affected about commercial stereotypes, because I have a brain that I use on a daily basis, I just assume that my children will be unaffected by this too. I forget that they are still young and impressionable and that they don't automatically become me while they grow up in this very f-cked up world of ours.
I decided there and then to be more conscious and to make sure I talk to my kids a lot more about this.

But too soon for me to do something about it, Kate asked me if I thought she was getting bigger as she was touching her belly after an evening snack of bread, cheese and a little apple juice.

It devastated and temporarily paralyzed me.

This was one of those moments you wish you were in a movie, or a family sitcom, and you would sit your child down on the sofa, stroke her back, and very eloquently tell her everything she needs to hear in three to five profound sentences, and you would hug, she would smile at you, and everything is fine again, and the subject will never be brought up again because your words were enough to forever change you the insecurities your child had carried with her until then.
Oh, I wish!

So what did I do?
I did tell her how special, and beautiful and divine she is, and how she is going through some changes that will inevitably make her feel out of sync with her body and that the body needs energy in order to grow and that there is nothing wrong with her, etc etc. I stroke her back, and I hugged her. Told her I am there for her.

It was almost like in the movies.

But this is not going away. In real life, this is only the beginning of many years of agonizing insecurities about imperfection and self loathing .
And shopping malls will keep putting their playgrounds outside Victoria's Secret.
And we will still live in a world with very impossible physical standards.
And it is not about to get any better.

PS:

Kate often says: I love you mom.
I can't complain, when it comes to my daughter, I am not starved for affection.
Tonight, when we were watching Hell's Kitchen, she told me she loved me, again. Out of the blue.
- I love you too, sweet, I smiled. What made you say that, in the middle of a Gordon Ramsey rant?
- Well, I just started thinking. Parents do a lot for their kids. They give them food, and drive them places, and play games and stuff. They do a lot.

Hell yeah.
But it's all worth it.
And I told her that too.

I will never, ever give up this blog ever again. I promise.

Hi everyone, if anyone is still out there?
I would like to say sorry for dropping the blog for so long, it was never my intention to stop writing but life took such an unexpected turn and for a long time, I had to try to come to terms with some inevitable changes and work a few things out. Nope, not divorced - but it was close for a while.

I have been craving to write for a long time now, though, so this is my solemn promise: to blog and be angry again!

So, apart from not taking my marriage for granted anymore, what else has happened since my last post?
Well, Kate is in 4th grade. She's going through some "changes" and thinks that school is "really boring". She is yet again in a very rowdy, high energy class, with a lot of strong type A males, who think that girls are crap at maths, and should refrain from all sports. Oh, trust me, this will be my next blog post.

Leo is turning 4, and is in pre-school. Not all sunshine and roses, there are still issues with his temper. And at drop off, I have suddenly turned in to the mother other parents avoid, because they don't like my son. Again, another blog post.

And one of the reasons I started to crave this blog was something I listened to on the BBC Radio's Woman's Hour a few days ago. Again, more blog posts.

It is so good to be back - if there are any readers out there - please, send me a sign!