Here again, with Hallie from MoxieWife! This week, my 5 favorites are:
The movie Wreck it Ralph. I thought it was going to be an annoying movie about some clumsy 80’s type video game character who couldn’t help smashing things all the time, filled with pixelated 80’s video games, and really annoying 80’s music.
I was so wrong! It is a vibrantly colored film with spectacular animation. How could I have assumed less?! The way the animators portray the motions of the video game characters is hilarious: the simple walking up of a flight of stairs is exactly like someone were operating the figure with a joystick, only it’s in HD. It is, thankfully, a more boy-ish type movie.
The only thing I don’t like is the mantra repeated by Wreck it Ralph, who wishes to be a good guy, and attends a support group similar to AA, but for bad guys. Ralph feels impaired by his “bad guy” occupation and by what the gaming world tells him he is: a Bad Guy:
“I’m bad and that’s good. I will never be good and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”
If you’re anyone with a moral conscience, this mantra clashes with common sense. This is a support group for bad guys who don’t want to be bad… so the mantra is telling these bad guys that it’s good to be bad, to give in to being bad, allowing it to happen because it is who they are, regardless of whether the characters want it to be bad or not.
What if we replace the word “bad” with “drug addict”? Or if we replace the word “bad” with the word “murderer”, or with the word “pedophile”, or dare I even say “rapist”? …now all sorts of parents’ eyebrows will raise. This mantra is complicit with moral relativism, and the mentality that “there is no absolute wrong in this world: it must be good because that’s my opinion, and my opinion is the ultimate Truth.” —WRONG-O! <go read that (or listen, there’s an audio, too) and then come talk to me. Just sayin’!
lakjsdlksajflaksjf– serious stuff over, this is still a favorite for me this week!
This coffee mug:
My two toddlers have some sort of stomach bug, and have had it for nearly a week now. I am convinced that this is my personal hell: cleaning up fecal matter that cannot be controlled, while dealing with raw, irritated derrieres and an overly dramatic oldest child. (remember, slippery carpet syndrome?) Anyway, my husband came home last night and brought me this happy, orange coffee mug, with a Carolyn-esque brocade handle flair. smiles.
I never thought I’d say this, but disposable diapers. I’m dealing with the hershey squirts and being able to throw away an accident truly is a blessing. I don’t have the time right now to be washing anything extra than necessary. So I’m keeping my oldest in some pull-ups and giving him baths. Of course I’ve still had to clean up an out of diaper experience… but it’s only been one incident so far.
This Honey Beer Bread Recipe.
This blog entry, shared on Facebook via Sarah Mae.
Here’s a tiny excerpt:
“Because a Steubenville doesn’t begin with football and it doesn’t begin with alcohol and it doesn’t begin with unsupervised jocks with inflated egos and shriveled morals. It begins with one woman bringing home a man-child in her arms, one mama unwrapping that blanket and what it means to raise up a man.
It begins with one mama looking into her son’s eyes for the next 18 years and showing him what it means to be a woman.”
This entry reenergized my care for my poopy-pants boys. It renewed my love for my mother-in-law, who taught her son what a woman is. It is truth.