July 29, 2014
by Meredith Bland

GUEST POST: Brain-Rot, Older Tots, Disney Bots

Hello all!

I’m back from Blogher ’14 by now, but probably still sleeping it all off. So today I have my second guest post by the wonderful Off-Duty Mom. She is one of the first bloggers I ever got to know when I started blogging six years ago, and the first one to give me a spot guest-posting on her blog. She is awesome, as you’ll see when you read her post.


Brain-Rot, Older Tots, Disney Bots

When a child turns 5, apparently, he or she is suddenly a ‘tween.

The term, originally coined to describe a demographic of needy children who were young enough to whine and pester their parents for overpriced Wal-Mart-quality merch, but not yet old enough to get a damn job and pay for their plastic bullshit themselves, has devolved into a craptacular world of low-budget entertainment for those no longer interested in Thomas, Dora, Elmo and Sophia the First.

And, then a lightbulb seemed to flick on in the collective mind of the Disney Machine: to emulate the most beloved/worst show that defined a generation and laugh at the stupidity of the American public (and Canadians, too, but we laugh at them for other reasons already) all the way to the bank.

Here is how Disney ended up taking all of your money and rotting your child’s brain doing nothing but recycling Saved by the Bell over and over.

Let’s first take a look at some of the requirements Disney needed to get together for each show in order to recreate SBTB’s glorious formula:

Piss-poor sound stage? Check.

Some school/park/”local hang out” that only ever seems to have, like, 5 people in it? Check.

Hairdos and outfits that every 12-year old will beg to have, then laugh raucously about 7 years later? (1997: “Hey guys! Look at these old pictures of us 7 years ago wearing hot pink with skin-tight jeans and all those bracelets!” 2021: “Hey guys! Look at these old pictures of us 7 years ago wearing hot pink with skin-tight jeans and all those bracelets!”) Check.

Baaaaaaaaaaaad acting by pretty people? Check.

C-list comedians playing the hopelessly befuddled adults? Check.

Tremendous lack of diversity (the whiteness of even the non-white characters is alarming)? Check.

Houses, schools and other significant buildings only ever seem to have one room? Check.

Once that foundation was in place, they were able to create a damn goldmine of garbage in the form of terrible comedies your kids will ultimately adore.

(image via autinallywiki)

(image via autinallywiki)

Let’s break down a few of my favorites:

  1. Dog with a Blog: Seriously clueless but adorably stupid boy and likable attractive girl who follows the rules and is something of a brainiac fumble with other characters through life’s ups and downs in this sitcom. Stupid boy has weird hair.
  2. Austin and Ally: This show centers around the “will-they-or-won’t-they” relationship of a pretty blond boy and a cute brunette who live in a sunny place where it is always summer and people are always wearing bright colors. The blond boy is cool. They have a wacky friend who makes ridiculous facial expressions. There is a hopeless laugh-track.
  3. Good Luck, Charlie: Characters often talk straight-to-camera in this low-concept, character-driven sitcom about good-looking suburban white people that focuses primarily on a blond kid giving advice.
  4. A.N.T. Farm: Set in some kind of weird high school that resembles absolutely no high school any high school student has ever gone to, a token Black female character is often the voice of reason to her comrades who include one hyper-intellectual female, a beautiful (but self-absorbed) drama queen, and a goofy-looking white boy. Their school leader is a fucking moron.
  5. Jessie: A pretty girl (named “Jessie,” for crying out loud) with curly hair hangs out with a bunch of kids. They get into all sorts of shenanigans, but she is clearly the smartest among them and often has to be a mother-hen to them. Her love life is a mess, but she is nonetheless lovable and wears cute stuff even though another female co-star is the girly, fluffy “pretty” one.
(image via disneychannel.com)

(image via disneychannel.com)

You know, Steve Martin supposedly once said that “comedy is the art of making people laugh without making them puke.” If this is the case, I suggest Disney go back to the drawing board. I feel ill whenever I even think about Liv and Maddie. By the way: why didn’t they just hire TWINS? If you’re making a comedy about a funny set of twin girls who are so adorably different ‘cuz, like, one is totally just like a BOY and the other is such a GIRL and we are all setting back gender equity and sexual identity about 50 years, why is your first thought to hire ONE ACTOR TO PLAY BOTH PARTS? Criminey. This chick ain’t no Hayley Mills.

Look: I loves me some Disney. I love The Lion King and Toy Story and Cinderella and Frozen. But, when a company so shamelessly tries to re-Britney/Justin/Ryan/Christina itself by building a factory that churns out “talent,” I wonder how talent is actually defined, honed, created, crafted or honored. Then, I think that Pink Floyd ought to reissue “Another Brick in the Wall” and create a video with Zac Effron, Lindsay Lohan, Raven Symone, Hilary Duff, Miley Cyrus and all three of the Jonas Brothers falling into that meat grinder.

Hey, Disney! Leave those kids alone!

Pick up your pens and write more checks to the Pixar arm of your giant beast. Mike Wazowski > Demi Lovato+Selena Gomez+Vanessa Hudgens+Ashley Tisdale+Shia LeBeouf combined.


Check out:

Off-Duty Mom, the blog.

Off-Duty Mom, the Facebook page.

And @offdutymom, the Twitter.


If you would like to guest post on Pile of Babies and revel in the extra three or four visitors to your blog that your appearance here will bring (I call that the POB bump), please contact me at [email protected] 

PLEASE NOTE that this is meant for bloggers and writers, not companies who want to sell something. Thanks!





July 24, 2014
by Meredith Bland

Guest Post: 15 Things I’ve Learned From Becoming a Stay-At-Home Dad

Here is the first of two awesome guest posts on Pile of babies while I am away at/recovering from Blogher 2014. This one is from freelance writer and stay-at-home dad of twins, Matt Vasko.


15 Things I’ve Learned From Becoming a Stay-At-Home Dad

By Matt Vasko

(image via pixabay)

(image via pixabay)

When my now 3-year-old twins were born, my wife and I made the decision that she would take a break from her career for a few years to stay at home with them. Last year, she was offered an exciting opportunity to return to her pre-kids career, and we decided to trade places. Before becoming a Stay-At-Home-Dad I was what most would call an Engaged Father. I shared responsibilities at bath time and bedtime, changed diapers when the kids were still in them (potty training has been one of my recent projects), and helped with chores. Still, being an Entrenched Father for several months has been illuminating. Here’s what I’ve learned so far…

People can be pretty great. I admit it, I was apprehensive about telling people that I was becoming a Stay-At-Home Dad. I anticipated everything from people telling me that it would be a mistake to take a break from my career to blatant digs at my masculinity. To the contrary, I was overwhelmed by all of the positive reactions that I received. Stay-At-Home Moms said, “You’re doing a really great thing… this will be a special time for you and your kids.” Moms who did not take time away from work after having their kids said, “I sometimes wish that I would have done that.” Dads who have not had a similar opportunity said, “Dude, you suck! I wish I could do that.” Friends, family and complete strangers have continued to be wonderfully supportive.

It is both harder and easier than one might imagine. Three-year-olds have inexhaustible energy, and it’s exhausting. Every muscle in my body hurt for the first two weeks and I lost seven pounds that haven’t found their way back. Keeping up with them while taking care of meals, dishes, laundry and housekeeping all at the same time is like trying to juggle chainsaws while taking care of meals, dishes, laundry and housekeeping. On the other hand, people told me that there would be no time for myself. Not true. It comes in milliseconds peppered throughout the day, but it is enough to get by. Especially if one pretends that blinking is a very short nap.

Dishes suck. There is no greater exercise in futility than doing dishes. You can clean them 10 times a day, turn around, and there are more to do. Few things make me sigh so deeply. If I were Sisyphus my boulder would be made of grimy pots and greasy frying pans. If Zeus really wanted to punish Sisyphus, he should have replaced the boulder with an eternal sink full of dirty dishes. There is no upside to this.

Poop happens… and pee-pee and vomit and boogers. I realized that I was getting into the groove as a Stay-At-Home-Dad when one of my kids could hand me a booger and I no longer thought, “Eeeeeeew.” Strange at is seems, this is probably the item that has made me understand my Mom better than any other. When I had the stomach flu as a kid, I was baffled by how she could so calmly reach for a bucket and hold it under my head as I heaved up my rotten guts. Little did I know that she’d seen it all a thousand times before I could even remember.

(image via freeimages)

(image via freeimages)

Zen is achievable. I now realize that when I started this gig I was the classic definition of a hot mess. I wasn’t used to being alone with the twins for more than a couple of hours at a time and had the startling realization that I had never taken both of them out anywhere by myself. I was in a near-constant state of panic. At home, my eyes darted about wildly, afraid to take my eyes off of either of them for more than a moment at a time, certain that I would end up needing to call my wife and explain why we were at the emergency room. In public, I feared that if they got more than two feet away from me they would most certainly be abducted, escape, or escape and then be abducted. I second guessed my every decision, beat myself up about every perceived mistake, and dreamed of the rest I would get following my inevitable nervous breakdown. Each day that has passed without catastrophe has taught me to trust both my abilities and my children’s innate survival instincts. A sense of hysteria has given way to a sense of being the calm in the storm, self doubt has transformed into consistent growth, and destructive criticism has changed to constructive criticism.

Schedules matter. I thought I would be a lot easier going than my wife. Lunch at noon? Naptime at 2? Nah, we’ll get to it when we get to it. Wrong. I soon discovered that preschoolers need a schedule like planes need fuel… without it they crash and burn. Hard. And my twins did. I used to think that my wife was micromanaging their daily routine – in fact she was a preschooler mood control mastermind. Returning them to their schedule has turned Mr. and Ms. Hyde back into pre-doctoral students.

They’re tough customers. Before stepping into this role I worked in customer service. Customers could be rude, crude and demanding, but at least they knew what they wanted. There have actually been moments during a child’s tantrum in which I have found myself begging, “Please dear god just tell me what you want so that I can make this stop!” I’m still working on this one. So far, the best thing I’ve come up with is embarrassingly frequent use of the phrase “use your words” and heavy sighs.

Sally Field was right. There is no 40-hour work week, no 10-minute breaks, no lunch periods, no sick days, no vacation time, no bathroom breaks without someone asking “What are you doing, Daddy?,” and the Department of Labor could care less. We need a union.

We get it. I don’t think that my wife and I have ever been able to empathize with each other as much as we do now. When she gets home from work and the house is in shambles, and I am standing in the middle of the living room looking catatonic, she doesn’t need to ask, “What happened to you?” She simply distracts the kids while I search for my sanity. Similarly, when she calls to tell me that she’s going to be an hour late leaving work because – you know – work has a way of sucking like that, I don’t lament the delay in the reinforcements. I soldier on, because I know she’d move heaven and earth to be home if she could. We know, because each of us has been there.

Attitude is everything. They say that attitude is everything. This could not be truer for young ones. I have been startled at times by the impact that my attitude has on my kids. As a result, I have become hyper-aware of my state of mind, because when I’m cranky they get cranky. The upshot: I’ve learned to harness this power for good instead of evil. When I really want them to get excited about something I present it as the-most-exciting-thing-EVER!!! It works best for things like trying to get them motivated to go outside, but even this technique fails to get them enthused about cleaning up their toys.

They’re honest… painfully honest. If I make something for dinner once and they don’t like it, they complain. If I make it a second time, they burst into tears when I set it in front of them. That’s honesty. And it stings. On the other hand, when I get all dolled up for a date night with my wife, walk downstairs, and my daughter says, “Wow, Daddy, you‘re handsome!” I feel like a shiny new penny.

It’s all about perspective. For me, getting this time with my kids has been a gift. I don’t feel entitled to this opportunity to be at home with them, I feel grateful. And it is this perspective that helps me keep a positive mindset when one child is standing in the middle of the living room floor in a puddle of their own pee, the other has just played Picasso on the dining room wall, the phone is ringing, there’s someone at the door, and dinner is boiling over on the stove.

(image via photopin)

(image via photopin)

Little things matter. The longer I do this the more I learn to take pleasure in the small, quiet moments. Yes, birthday parties and making the holidays special matter, but I anticipate that the things that I will hold most dear when I look back on this time with my kids are those perfect moments when we are reading a book, snuggling on the couch, or searching for just the right wildflower to give to Mommy when she gets home from work.

You’ll never be perfect, but your kids won’t care. I set a pretty high bar for myself in the beginning. I wanted to be the “perfect parent,” whatever the heck that is. As it turns out, they just want your time and attention. Give them that and you’re golden.

There is honor in serving one’s family. To be honest, I thought that becoming a Stay-At-Home-Dad would be a blow to my ego. I left a job managing two departments, a 30 person staff, and a $1.3 mil budget – that felt important. How could dishes and diapers possibly compare? I’ve discovered that all of the seemingly mundane tasks that make up my new job do add up to something. They create a caring, nurturing environment for the three most important people in my life. That matters more.

Matt Vasko recently left a perfectly fine job for the exhausting bliss of Stay-At-Home-Parenthood. Over the years, he has worked in customer service, sales, management, and misspent his youth as an actor and comedian. He is an occasional freelance writer and lives with his family in Los Angeles, California. You can read his brand-spankin’ new blog Super Eclectica, follow him on Twitter at @Vaskoco, and e-mail him at [email protected] 

July 22, 2014
by Meredith Bland

Heading to Blogher 2014!

BLOGHER 14I’m off to Blogher 2014 tomorrow, bitches and bastards! Woo hoo!!!!!

Last year I went all by myself. I was nervous, sticky, and ate a lot of room service while watching Law & Order reruns. This year, however, my twin sister is going with me, so the good times are going to roll! We are going to get to celebrate our birthday together for the first time in many years,and she is going to be able to be my shelter in the storm when the many, many people bring on my first panic attack. It’s gonna be awesome!

This year there are a bunch of bloggers I am looking forward to meeting that I know on this series of tubes known as the interweb but have never met in person. The internet is weird that way, huh? So that’s something to look forward to,

There is an extra element of terror this year though, as I have been one of the bloggers picked from among Blogher’s Voices of the Year to read one of my blog posts in front of a hotel ballroom full of people. I am so incredibly psyched and honored, but also incredibly nauseous.

ALSO, I get to go to Netflix’s headquarters for a tour along with some of their other Stream Team bloggers! And, in addition to some Netflix honchos, we are going to meet Piper Kerman, the author of Orange is The New Black.

Oh. My. God.

So this is going to be a big conference for me, and I can barely nap enough to deal with all of the stress. So keep your fingers crossed for me that I don’t accidentally spit food on anyone while talking, or say anything unforgivably stupid. Forgivably stupid I expect and can deal with.

There will be some awesome guest posts on Thursday and the following Tuesday, and then I’ll be back with a post-Blogher wrap up toward the end of next week.

Eep, y’all.

July 15, 2014
by Meredith Bland

Football versus Futbol – 4 things I learned by watching the World Cup

During the past few weeks, I — like millions of other Americans — became enamored with the world of futbol (pronounced like football, only after you’ve been kicked in the stomach.) As a devoted football fan, I discovered some interesting contrasts between the game I love and the game I was temporarily flirting with.

1. In football, they wear face masks…sometimes fairly elaborate, cage-like masks like the Raider’s Justin Tuck at the bottom. Unfortunately, those types of face masks will not be allowed next season. This makes me very sad, because there so many more nightmares I had yet to dream.

Now futbol, however, has no face masks. And guess which sport’s players get bitten? With mouths? By other grown men?

POINT: Face cage.

Deadspin f vs f 1

Deadspin Fvs F 2

2. When futbol players pull up their jerseys to celebrate, it looks like this:

deadspin fvsv 3
When football players pull up their jerseys to celebrate, it looks like this:

POINT: The Mebane belly roll. I like some jelly in my NFL belly. Get it, big man.

3. Celebrations. In football, you aren’t allowed to taunt defenders after a touchdown; this includes standing over them for too long, using the football as a prop, or doing a military salute. Officials also don’t enjoy choreographed dances, which I think we can all agree is absolute madness, because who doesn’t want to see a bunch of football players doing a choreographed dance? Crazy people, that’s who.

In futbol, on the other hand, the rule book states that after scoring a goal players may neither remove their shorts nor incite a riot. And that’s about it. Shorts. And riots.

South Africa Soccer WCup England US

deadspin fvsf 5


POINT: Football. The game where the players are dignified enough not to have be asked to keep their pants on.

4. When their team is getting the stuffing beat out of it, futbol fans have big reactions. Like this gentleman, for example, who forgot to bring snacks to the game.

deadspin fvsf 6

Football fans however, such as this caring Manning brother watching his brother’s team getting destroyed during the Super Bowl, tend to spiral downward into despair. This kind of despair robs us of our ability to move our faces.

deadspin fvsf 7

POINT: Football’s stoney sadness. This is the correct reaction to having your dreams die.

CONCLUSION: In terms of biteyness, anguish, and forced control over joy, football still reigns supreme. Now oh my god, can it please be September already?

July 11, 2014
by Meredith Bland

Netflix for kids: School’s out for summer, but Netflix is in.

As I said in Tuesday’s post, I am not anti-screen time. In fact, I am aaaaaaaaall for it. Sometimes kids need sometime to zone out and relax their little minds, and sometimes Mommy needs to take a nap. And eat all the cookies.

I don’t even worry too much about whether or not the program is educational, but it sure helps me feel slightly less guilty when I know that they think they are getting away with watching TV but they are actually learning about the solar system.

HA! Take THAT, kids!

This month’s Netflix Stream Team theme was “School’s In For Summer,” and gave links to a few educational yet fun programming for kids. The gauntlet has been thrown. Let’s get stupid, kids.

Here were their choices for little kids like mine:

1. The Great Mouse Detective

2. Busytown Mysteries

3. LeapFrog: Math Adventures to the Moon

4. Turtle: The Incredible Journey

5. The Magic School Bus

As usual, I let the kids pick what they wanted to watch. Their first choice?

Numbers! In space! (image via leapfrog.com)

Numbers! In space! (image via leapfrog.com)

1. Leapfrog: Math Adventures to the Moon

That’s right. I am raising some straight up nerds, y’all.

And my little nerds LOVE the Leapfrog shows. I’m not sure why, but I am sure am grateful. When one of the little frog-beings said, “Math is fantastic!” I closed my eyes and thought, “Yes…say that again…make them think math is a force for good instead of the hideous evil I know it to be.” They are going to need all the help they can get in learning to enjoy math, because if you put enough numbers in front of me, I black out. So let’s keep adding and subtracting planets.

Their second choice?

(image via imdb.com)

(image via imdb.com)

2. The Great Mouse Detective

I am not going to kid you — I am not sure how this one is educational. Maybe because it helps them think creatively about how to solve problems and also gives them nightmares about bats who have sharp teeth and a peg leg? That must be it.

And, because we couldn’t get enough and Mommy was super duper tired that week, we got to watch another one. They chose:


And so it begins... (image via magicschoolbuswiki.com)

And so it begins… (image via magicschoolbuswiki.com)

3. The Magic School Bus

The Magic School Bus, as I have learned from Wikipedia, was a big hit during the 1990s when I was a teenager and heavily into awkwardness and analyzing the shape of my nose. So I missed out on this one. But the kids and I really enjoyed the episode we watched on the digestive system.

See, the magic School Bus shrinks and gets swallowed by a child named Arnold, and they go forth to discuss all of the part of his digestive system. This episode had me on the edge of my seat, wondering what they were going to do when they got to Arnold’s anus. Well, they tease you by getting all the way down to the lower intestine, where the kids get increasingly anxious and converned about the smell. Here is how the Magic School Bus Wiki describes the rest of that scene:

When Ms. Frizzle states that the trip is not over yet, Ralphie becomes quite frustrated, reciting all the organs of the digestive system consecutively and asking what’s more to it. Ms. Frizzle answers that they just need to “join the rest of the waste products and finish the trip.” With the shocked class refusing to exit through Arnold’s anus as feces and end up in the toilet, they plan to venture out of him by going back.

Booooooooo. So Arnold burps them up instead. But, you know, my kids learned about stomach acid and stuff, so I guess it wasn’t a total loss for them, although it was a deeply painful loss for me.


So tell the kids to stop fighting over whose turn it is to kick the other one in the head. Go put on some Netflix, grab a comfy place to sit, and relax while the kids learn something. Or don’t. Let’s not worry too much about that. Just enjoy the silence.

Hurray, Summer!


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