Not Just Another Disney Princess

Took the kids to see Disney's newest animated feature, THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG.

Spent the first ten minutes just sitting there marveling at a Disney Princess who doesn't look like any previous Disney Princess. Granted, she's not technically a princess. But she DOES win the heart of a genuine prince, so close enough.

Now I suppose JASMINE and MULAN were big steps forward in terms of minority inclusion in the Disney Princess pantheon, Jasmine being some sort of ""1001 Nights" Middle Easterner (though ALADDIN's location was changed from Baghdad to the presumably more palatable, fictional Agrabah), and Mulan being Chinese. But somehow their ethnicity didn't stir an emotional chord with me the way the new gal, TIANA's, does.

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Their Fred Astaire Moment

The very first time you're exposed to something wonderful in this life, be it the person you fall in love with, or your very first taste of ice cream as a child, I have a name for it. I call it a "Fred Astaire moment."

Back when I was fourteen or so, living through the hormonal and social hell that is eighth grade, I felt alienated from pretty much everyone I knew. My parents could not relate to me, and my middle school classmates had turned on me. It wasn't that they hated me. It was just that they didn't "get" me ... and I didn't "get" them.

I'd always had friends in kindergarten and elementary school, and coasted along with a comfortable social life through sixth grade or so. But in seventh, the girls I used to like, and who used to like me, became a lot more interested in boys... to the exclusion of all else. And the boys in my class I may have been friendly with once upon a time pretty much ignored my existence and paid attention to the girls who were boy-crazy.

Maybe my pubescent hormones hadn't fully kicked in yet, or maybe I was never one for gossip or speculation about the crushes and the rites of teenage physical exploration about which my classmates had suddenly become obsessed. I know I had no interest in shutting out some people because they weren't "cool." But by eight grade, that is what happened to me.

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Not So Up About "Up"

Took the kids to see "UP," Pixar's latest, with some of their other preschool pals & parents.

Spent half the movie trying to answer Thing 2's incessant, very puzzled questions, in-between reassuring her about parts that were too intense for her. Spent about a quarter of it watching Thing 1's face: he was amazed, mesmerized, amused, among other things, though a good deal of it clearly was going way over his head. Spent the rest of the time alternately entertained and wishing it wasn't so emotionally grown-up.

In case you haven't seen it, I caution that some spoilers are ahead, but here goes:

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Ready Or Not, Here Come The Light Sabers

Late Blooming Dad often teases me that I went to a commie-pinko kumbaya touchy feely private school. He's exaggerating, of course, but the Friends school I attended (Friends schools are run by the Society of Friends, otherwise known as Quakers) did emphasize peace, made community service a requirement of graduation, and required everyone from faculty to students sit together in a silent meeting house for twenty minutes every day at the start of the day. They also banned toy guns, decades before the school shootings that plague American society today. If you were caught with so much as a dime store water pistol (remember dime stores? But I digress ...), you were sent home for the day and your parents were taken to task.

Naturally, as a mom, I try to limit my kids' exposure to violence, but there's only so much one can do.

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Traumatized By Disney

Many friends of mine have worked for the Disney corporation at one time or another ... and the company's reputation for being mean, cheap, and generally awful to its employees seemed well-deserved. But one of those same friends changed her tune about Disney after she became a parent. She was, she confessed, grateful to Disney. Their movies, TV shows, TV channel, theme parks, and toys kept her child entertained time and time again, and a good deal of the product was quality -- maybe not the toys from China, but certainly, say, the music from MARY POPPINS.

The thing about Disney movies,though, is that they're a double-edged sword.

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The Slapstick Gene

My son has it.

Way back when he was two, we'd put on a Baby Einstein video featuring farm animal puppets, and he used to laugh hysterically at this bit where a horse puppet ignored all the food on a table and instead munched the flower in a vase.

He giggled uncontrollably at the pig puppet who pushed another pig puppet down a slide into the mud.

He cracked up in another scene with an elephant puppet trumpeting and blowing the other puppets over.

At three, we began to selectively expose him to classic Warner Bros. cartoons. Not only would he laugh in all the right places, he'd force us to back up the video so he could view the same bit again and again -- and each time, he'd have the same explosive response.

Just this week, I sat down with him to watch an episode of Ian Falconer's OLIVIA, based on the popular picture book series.

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The Almost-Fours

They will be four on Tuesday.

They can't wait -- for ice cream birthday cake (Lightning McQueen for him, Ariel the Little Mermaid for her) and for their party.

I am getting the sense this is going to be a very fun age. Mostly, I like eavesdropping on them when they play without my immediate supervision. Yesterday I overheard this: "Where are my boots? Oh, there they are! I will go take a walk with them." "Where will you go?" "California.

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Can I Interest You In Hanukkah?

Some of you make recognize the title of this post as taken from the ditty Jon Stewart sings to Stephen Colbert in the recent special, A COLBERT CHRISTMAS, on Comedy Central. The conceit of the special is that Colbert is trapped in his mountain cabin (there's a bear outside) and can't get to his NY studio to tape his holiday special, but his friends keep dropping by. Stewart tries to sell Colbert on celebrating Hanukkah instead of Christmas (you can read the lyrics here or watch the clip here.)

Thing 1 and Thing 2 are on the verge of turning 4 as Hannukah and Christmas approach, and it's the first year the two holidays are really registering in a conscious way. Because they go to a Jewish preschool, they've already committed "The Dreidel Song" and "Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah" to memory. They know all about lighting the menorah, eating latkes and Hanukkah gelt, and though they're a bit hazy on the story behind it all, they have no trouble understanding that presents are involved. As for Christmas, though they've been told that we don't celebrate it, but many of our friends do. (My pal Gregory K. has written a short but delightful poem on his blog about those who double-dip, celebrating both holidays). The kids are not really sure what Christmas is, even though they know it's coming and that a fat bearded man in a red suit is involved. Every night when we drive home from preschool in the fading dusk or early dark, they delight in viewing holiday lights and Christmas trees. I've played them Alvin and the Chipmunks' "Christmas Song" ad nauseum (they never seem to tire of the high-pitched voices and my own attempts to sing along with the line about the hula-hoop). The secular parts of the Christmas holiday are inescapable. But as yet, they have no clue about the birth of a Baby Jesus.

I haven't brought Jesus up yet because it's a whole lot of religious weight, historical baggage, and a very serious story to load on almost-four-year-olds, let alone the idea of one December holiday being ours and the other being someone else's. Their grasp of their own "tribe's" holiday story -- the Maccabees and the miracle of the oil burning for eight nights in the temple -- is only slightly less incomplete than my own. I never went to Hebrew school and my parents left much of traditional Judaism out of my Jewish cultural/historical education. I can tell you the story of FIDDLER ON THE ROOF with much more detail and accuracy than the story of the Maccabbees. I identify as a Jew by culture and history and even values way more than I do through the specifics of the Torah, and honestly will need to bone up before teaching its most famous tales.

But I do enjoy a good Hanukkah celebration, and I want the kids to also. It's just that trying to explain and keep separate one holiday and the other is a bit daunting when Christmas is ubiquitous, surrounding us everywhere with its decorations and sounds and trappings. I've never seen anything wrong with enjoying those trappings: holiday lights are beautiful, and a lot of the music, secular AND religious, is delightful and lovely. My own parents took us out on Christmas Eve to visit the tree at New York's Rockefeller Center (breathtaking every year) and the wondrous mechanical windows of Lord & Taylor's on Fifth Avenue. We even took to exchanging our Hanukkah gifts on Christmas, especially once I was in college, because Christmas break was when everybody was home. But we always knew the religious aspects of Christmas were for Christians. Jesus, while a nice Jewish boy with a lot of great things to say about loving one another, was not our savior. We didn't have one, and didn't see the lack of one as anything, well, lacking. The idea of a Messiah showing up some day was something to which my parents never subscribed, and would've probably seen as magical thinking, at best. So we enjoyed the trappings of the Christmas season, and ignored the rest.

As typical Upper West Side of NY Jews, our big Christmas day tradition consisted of going to a movie and eating Chinese food. I understand transplanted NY Jews now living in the Bay Area have the option of attending an official "Kung-Pao Christmas," which involves Chinese food and Jewish stand-up comics. These are traditions I can get behind. I hope to get the kids into the Chinese food and movies on Christmas eventually. (The first time we attempted to take them to Chinese food on Christmas, it seemed every Jew on the West Side of Los Angeles had shown up at the same restaurant.)

As for Christmas, I suppose I'm already passing on to the the kids the idea of sharing in the displays and the music, the Christmas movies. (They fell asleep tonight to the soundtrack from "A Charlie Brown Christmas," worshiping at the altar of jazz great Vince Guaraldi and his soothing cool jazz piano.) But I feel a more urgent sense than my parents ever imparted to emphasize that we've got our own holiday this time of year. I don't mean to imply there's some kind of equivalence. But I do want them to know that we're different from the majority in some ways, and that's okay, in fact reason for celebration. Because here in the U.S., church does remain officially separate from state, and people here are free to practice whatever religion they choose, or none at all. Celebrating Hanukkah in the midst of Christmas hoopla seems to me a way to celebrate a great American tradition of embracing everyone by making a place for all. It's a way to reinforce the value of diversity, to demonstrate that in difference there can be strength. And at the same time, to show that both holidays have come to mean spending time with family and friends, and celebrating miracles legendary and miracles that we can experience daily but too often take for granted, one of which is that we live in a place where freedom -- something the Maccabees valued -- is ours to cherish.

I just hope the kids don't mind when they realize eight days of presents means, to quote Jon Stewart's line from Colbert's song, "one nice one, then a week of dreck."

Their First Trip To The Movies

It was mostly about the popcorn.

This being contemporary Hollywood -- over-commercialized, branded and marked by sequels and prequels, it's probably fitting that the first movie Thing 1 and Thing 2 experienced in a movie theater was a sequel. MADAGASCAR 2. We picked it because they'd seen MADAGASCAR at home several times, pretty much liked it -- like most kids in America, they especially like to sing along to "MOVE IT, MOVE IT" -- and were only scared at one moment in the entire movie. So we figured it'd be a safe choice, though perhaps not the life-changing experience they got when they first screened MARY POPPINS at home.

We prepped them about how it was going to get dark when the previews came on; how the screen would be much bigger than our home TV; how they would have their own seats, but could sit on our laps if they got scared; how it was going to be loud. We'd been told by other parents of preschoolers to expect we might have to leave part-way through the movie, when the darkness, volume, or scary moments might prove too much for the kids.

Turns out, there was no reason to worry.

Thanks to the big heaping boxes of popcorn I put on their laps, they were content to munch -- and drink water from their sippies, placed conveniently in personal cupholders -- while witnessing the incomprehensible (to them, anyway) ad for a 007 Blu-Ray disc collection (I was cringing at the violence and the six-year-old behind us reacted to an explosion by saying, "That is not good"), all the trailers (which, thank goodness, were actually for kids' movies), and much of the film before getting restless (Thing 1) or momentarily frightened (Thing 2).

The seats were way too large for small legs that can't bend at the knee with a seat that long, not if they're going to sit back. Thing 2 solved the problem by sitting "criss cross, applesauce," while Thing 1 wound up getting up 2/3 of the way through and stretching his legs. He might've left had I not coaxed him into my much more comfy lap for the rest of the movie.

There were a lot of questions asked, primarily by Thing 2, who is keenly observant and the more sensitive, perhaps because she's a girl. It took a lot of attempts to finally get her to whisper the questions to me instead of ask them at full volume. When certain characters disappeared from the story for a time, she was terribly concerned about their whereabouts. When dangerous or scary things happened to characters, she got worried and at one point, cringed and closed her eyes and nearly started crying (thank you, evil producers, animators and writers for including a chomping, terrifying shark that had no business jumping out of the ocean and following a lemur all the way ashore and up to a volcano). Thing 2 evinced no such concern, and was fully absorbed and happy, at least until the popcorn ran out. (That's when I wound up coaxing him into my lap.)

But on the whole, they took to the in-the-theater experience like veterans. Several times Late Blooming Mom and Dad stole glances at them, as they smiled or stared in awe at what they were seeing ... or just kept stuffing popcorn into their mouths and looking small in the big red chairs. I think it was more special for us than it was for them. We even saved the ticket stubs.

When we emerged, it was quite foggy and dark, and the kids were full of energy. They gleefully ran to the fast food Greek restaurant (where they objected to the food, so we had to pop into the Mexican fast food place next door), and pretty much held it together for a post-dinner trip to Trader Joe's to buy cookies (a successful ploy by Dad to avoid having to give them ice cream; a couple of small animal crackers satisfied the "treat" demands). Bedtime was an hour-plus late, but we were all content.

Nobody ran howling from the theater; a fairly good time was had by all, save Thing 2's distress at that totally unnecessary shark (are you hearing this, Dreamworks? As a movie industry professional who analyzes scripts for a living -- let alone as a pissed off parent -- I put you on notice the shark was stupid). And a milestone was achieved.

Anyone for a matinee?

Surviving The Road Trip

Somehow Late Blooming Mom -- and Dad -- just survived taking two preschoolers on a 380-mile car trip from Los Angeles to the Bay Area on Friday night -- and back on Monday afternoon. It was a quick trip to visit family, and I'd dreaded the transit portion. Surprisingly, it wasn't so bad.

We drove through wild fires (well, we drove by them; the car still smells of smoke). We endured meals at Denny's and the Iron Skillet (where, I kid you not, all the greasy meals are served in mini-skillets instead of plates). And we gave in to the convenience of the portable DVD player strung between the front seats, so the kids could view hours and hours of DVDs when they weren't sleeping, snacking, or kvetching.

I wholly recommend the portable DVD player, but just one. See, the kids are going to fight about which DVD they want to watch, but I'd still rather they learn how to take turns and compromise than not. And not have to spend money on TWO portable DVD players.

Some would ask, isn't looking at the scenery good enough for them? We all grew up pre-DVD players and survived.

I did try to interest the kids in the scenery... cows and farms and cow poop, which was quite potent.

But when it got dark, or the kids got cranky, that DVD player was pure gold.

The other item I found essential was the portable potty I'd bought from a mail order catalog. On two drives, this little item proved a lifesaver, because Thing 2 simply could not wait until the next rest stop. We still had to pull over to the nearest exit, get out and set the thing up by the side of the road, using the car as a privacy shield. But it was sure better than the alternative.

Keeping the troops fed and hydrated, yet able to pee when necessary, was a bit of a logistical challenge, and the bag of snacks was larger than some of our suitcases. Thing 1 would eat breakfast bars all day if he could; Thing 2 wants nothing to do with them, but will devour blue corn chips and pretzels.

New stickers and little drawing books with favorite characters were given out. Pop-up books and pads and crayons were distributed at meals. Glow sticks were presented in the home stretch.

All in all, it was a very successful road trip, much better than I'd hoped for.

Except for the aftermath.

On arrival home, an overtired Thing 2 and hyperactive-after-being-cooped-up-in-a-car for six-plus hours Thing 1 behaved impossibly, in their own ways. Thing 2 took a full hour to have a fit and refuse to get ready for bed.

It's three days since our return, and Late Blooming Mom is still tired from that homecoming.
Maybe a "stay-cation" next time?

The Insidious Reach Of The Brand

This morning I took the kids to Preschooler Story Time at one of my local libraries. After the story was read, BINGO was sung, and we colored some hand-outs with crayons, it was time for me to let the kids find some books so I could read to them.

The good news is that they grabbed a lot of books and sat there with great interest while I read, pointing and asking questions, thoroughly engaged.

The bad news is that more than half the books they selected and asked me to read for them were basically non-books: in book form, they were advertisements for Disney's CARS and ALADDIN, and the TV cartoons SPOT, CLIFFORD, and MISS SPIDER'S SUNNYPATCH FRIENDS, which began as books, but which my kids didn't get into until they saw the characters on TV. The books were not particularly creative, smart or fun. The few books we read that had no movie or TV tie-ins were a heckuva lot better, though not exactly the classic children's books I remember from my own childhood. If I'd had more time at the library to browse, it would've been all about MAKE WAY FOR DUCKLINGS and other picture books I remember fondly.

Eventually the kids got ancy to leave; they'd already seen the library-adjacent playground by the parking lot, and needed to get their playground groove on. That was just fine: I've learned well how you've gotta let the kids get their energy out in the morning so they'll be primed for lunch, then tired enough to nap.

But I couldn't help feeling I'd done the kids a disservice introducing them to so many branded characters already. I'm not saying I don't adore CURIOUS GEORGE in movie and TV form (it IS on PBS, and technically educational), but I'm glad that's translated into the kids wanting me to read them actual CURIOUS GEORGE books, some of which I do remember from childhood. I've used TV out of desperation when I needed to shower, make dinner, or just rest for a bit, and I've also watched it with the kids because there are shows and DVDs for kids I genuinely enjoy and want to share with them. I've also read to them since before they "got" what a book was, and spend at least some time reading to them everyday. I just wish the books weren't so tied in to making my kids want to buy merchandise.

My daughter's awareness of the whole Princess phenomena is uncanny. I plead guilty to having taken her to the Disney store in the local mall a bunch of times to kill time and keep her amused, though I really think peers in preschool somehow exposed her to the names of every single Princess in the Disney canon before I'd even gotten her a single DVD featuring a princess. (In fact we only own one such DVD, "THE LITTLE MERMAID," and Thing 2 has watched it once through just one time, refusing to view it again because of the brief presence of a scary shark). Somehow she's gotten Princess-bonkers anway, and has a toy tiara, clothes with princesses on them, the plastic play slippers festooned with Ariel's visage. I guess now that modern Disney heroines aren't shrinking violets, make bold choices, and are partners in their own rescues, it's not so bad for girls to be into princesses. But the whole thing still feels too pre-Feminist creepy for me. (I don't think I was EVER in a princess phase, even when I was cast as one in a James Thurber play at summer camp. I don't even remember identifying with a female character until well into fifth or sixth grade, when I became aware of Mary Richards on THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW and wanted to fling my hat into the air (even though I didn't own one) and make it after all.)

For my son, it's all about cars from the Disney/Pixar movie CARS. He's got a dozen toy cars from the movie, or maybe more at this point (I've lost count). He has CARS stickers, books, shirts, socks, pants and light-up sneakers. He wants to be LIGHTNING MCQUEEN for Halloween, AND when he grows up (even though Lightning McQueen is a car, not a person). Now as movies go, CARS is a pretty good one -- even exposing my kids to the voice of the late, great actor/humanitarian Paul Newman (who plays DOC HUDSON) and the dulcet tones of singer/songwriter James Taylor (who sings a Randy Newman-penned song in the movie). It teaches the value of having friends and helping them when they need help. It has no scary, nightmare-inducing villain (for a movie with DISNEY in the credits, that's huge). And it's pleasant and fun. But the merchandizing tie-ins are, well, endless. I challenge anyone to show up at any preschool in America and find one where the boys aren't clad in at least some CARS wear.

I know it's my fault for giving in to all this and buying the crap. But the thing is, when you don't want a fight in the morning about getting the kids to get dressed, having character-themed clothes means those clothes go on -- and fast. Sometimes the kids seek them out and dress themselves before I even have to ask. The other thing is, Disney, thanks to China, makes the stuff cheap. Now we've probably spent enough on it all, cumulatively, that it isn't really cheap; but only now do I realize the insidious way Disney has lured me into turning my kids into customers.

I'm probably not gonna stop buying the crap anytime soon either; the kids genuinely love it. And what the hell, why shouldn't the kids be reading a book called WINNE THE POOH AND THE HANUKAH DREIDEL, even if I know damn well Christopher Robin and his friends are good English Protestants by origin (somewhere in heaven, A.A. Milne is saying "Oy!"). But what I AM going to do, at least when it comes to reading time, and to buying books or reading them at the library, is try to steer them, as much as I can, to stuff that ISN'T a TV show or a movie... stuff they can imagine coming to life themselves without a team of animators to do it for them. I've probably done a fair amount of this already, but now that I'm more aware, I'm going to try to do it more and more often.

The library had a corner window on which words were etched: sentences lifted from children's books, sentences like, "Let the wild Rumpus start!" and phrases like "Some pig!" Each one brought back a vivid memory for me, and the images that came to mind weren't taken from movies or TV shows. I hope I can share those memories with my kids by turning them on to books for books' sake -- so what matters is the story, not the wearable/watchable stuff it inspired.

Hollywood Takes Notice: Here They Come, The Late Blooming Mom Movies!

This weekend brings the opening of not one but two -- count 'em, two -- whole movies centered around women who want to -- or inadvertently become -- late-blooming moms. Given that the movie industry (in which I'm a tiny cog, part of a giant movie machine) has been largely blind to the phenomenon of women becoming later in life mothers, this is cause for rejoicing. Now let's hope they're actually good.

My money's on Tina Fey and Amy Poehler's BABY MAMA to deliver on its promise. It's a comedy about a 37-year-old career women with a tilted uterus that means she can't get pregnant ... so she hires another woman to carry her baby. Early reviews have been good, and word has it this channels the spirit of the classic Neil Simon play and movie THE ODD COUPLE, with a gender-bending twist, and a more contemporary spirit. Supposedly Fey's character is not some cold-hearted, ambitious to the point of being a bitch career gal, but rather a much more realistic, warm and hard-working gal who is bumping up against infertility, and is smart enough and financially able to do something about it. This being a movie, I understand she also gets some romance in the form of Greg Kinnear. Apparently Sigourney Weaver is spot-on funny as the head of the surrogate pregnancy firm that puts the leads together, and Steve Martin does a hysterical star turn as the head of a crunchy granola food company where Fey works. John Hodgeman, egghead of THE DAILY SHOW, is the ob/gyn.

BABY MAMA is high on my want-to-see list, mostly because it sounds funny, but also because it's a high profile movie dealing with things like infertility, juggling career and the desire for mom-hood, and the fact that a lot of us don't come to mom-hood until after 35. It's about time we had a movie of our own. I don't guarantee it'll be good since I haven't seen it, but I hope it'll generate enough box office to convince the industry it's time for more movies with 35+ female leads and dealing with real issues. Check out the trailer for BABY MAMA here.

The other movie dealing with the later-in-life longing for mom-hood is THEN SHE FOUND ME, starring -- and directed by -- Helen Hunt, who was funny and endearing on TV's MAD ABOUT YOU, but has been kinda brittle and hard to take in the movies. She seems a bit warmer this time in the trailer (let's hope it's true in the whole film). Apparently in this movie, based on a novel by Elinor Lipman (a popular chick lit author), she plays a teacher left by her immature husband (played by MATTHEW BRODERICK), only to wind up pregnant by him when he briefly comes back, only by the time she realizes it, she's fallen for an irresistible single dad (COLIN FIRTH), whose kid she teaches. She's also adopted, and finds out her real mom is an advice-giving talk show host (played by BETTE MIDLER). I gotta admit, the supporting players are the bigger draw for me here -- who doesn't wanna fall in love with Colin Firth or hear Bette Midler be a brassy talk show host? Check out the trailer for THEN SHE FOUND ME here.

Full disclosure: I don't work for the companies behind EITHER of these movies, and had nothing to do with them professionally. I'm just a Late Blooming Mom happy that Hollywood has finally taken notice of us, at last.

How To Avoid Barney-ization

When it comes to children's TV programming, I say, "Just Say No" to Barney.

The great thing about small children is that if you don't introduce them to crappy kids' TV, they won't know it's out there. Well, except for what they see and hear from other kids at preschool or on playdates.

Now before I go any further, I must acknowledge that my pediatrician, many others, and the American Academy of Pediatrics, are all down on TV for kids. They'll tell you no TV, period, before age 2, and very little after that.

I can also tell you that they don't have twins.

If you need to take a shower, make a meal, or do some other essential task that requires up to half an hour of peace, you may find yourself resorting to turning on the TV and planting your kids on the couch in front of it, like Late Blooming Mom sometimes does. (Within reasonable limits, a parent's gotta do what a parent's gotta do.) The key is to use your Tivo or DVR (god bless this life-changing technology), or your DVD player, and NOT leave the TV on regular programming, to babble at your offspring indiscriminately.

The other key to to spend a little time watching with your kids, interacting with them and the TV show -- and getting to know the stuff you're willing to let them watch.

That's where avoiding Barney-ization comes in. (And if you can avoid having an insipid, cloying purple dinosaur spouting Hallmark platitudes at your kids, shouldn't you?)

Thankfully, making your house a Barney-free zone is easier than ever these days ... because there's kids' programming on cable and PBS that DOESN'T SUCK! There's even stuff I enjoy watching.

Here's a very biased guide to what my kids have sampled and grown to love:

1. JACK'S BIG MUSIC SHOW
This one's on Noggin', a channel for preschoolers, and it rocks. It may be the funniest and cutest (without being saccharine) show for toddlers around. It features puppets including an energetic mouse (I think he's a mouse, anyway) named Jack, his music clubhouse in the back yard, where he hangs out with his best friend Mary, another mouse (whom he deems "super swell"), and his adorably antic dog Mel. They're in a band together. They play electric guitars and bass, and Mel plays drums with the enthusiasm of Keith Moon (check out his drum solo in the opening song every episode). The show incorporates a simple story each time, like helping a guest character learn a dance ... as well as music videos by regulars like Laurie Berkner. She sings songs for kids but they're not treacly, e.g., she'll sing about how much fun it is to splash in puddles in her rain boots. The musical styles vary -- from rock to country to yodeling -- and different instruments are introduced. Best of all, on a lot of the episodes, the Schwartzman Quartet drops by -- four mouse puppets who sing everything from barbershop to swing to the Beach Boys -- and their songs provide comment, like a Greek Chorus. The show has a sort of old Borscht belt sensibility to its humor, decidedly Jewish without saying so. This is the one I love perhaps even more than my kids.

2.CAILLOU
Hooray for PBS. Okay, this is not one I adore, but it has the power of mesmerizing my son for a full half hour, and boy, that is worth something. Warning: adults mayl find it boring. But my son gets so calm and content watching it, I can sit snuggling him on my lap the whole time and that's delicious. The thing about Caillou is, it replicates much of what toddlers and preschoolers experience in daily life: it's about a four-year-old who learns to do things like make sandwiches, take turns with his younger sister when they play together, have a friend stay for a sleepover, ride a bike, etc. None of it is earthshattering. But it hits the relatability target. The language is simple, the animation and drawing style like that of an early reader book. And the Canadian family it depicts (I'm guessing Canadian by their accents) , while a little too perfect, provides a pretty good blueprint for what you'd like family life to be. This is a good wind-down show, before bath and bedtime. One caveat: the main character is bald -- I mean, we're not talking Charlie Brown, who at least has a wisp of hair. He looks kinda freaky. But my son doesn't seem to notice.

3.CURIOUS GEORGE
More kudos to PBS. The good folks there saw the CURIOUS GEORGE movie hit its preschool target resoundingly, and recognized it was worthy of a TV franchise. Back in the day when CURIOUS GEORGE was just a series of books, it was popular, but nothing like the phenomenon it is today. The main reason is that the TV show folk have figured out the key to George: he's not really a monkey. He's a three-year-old boy. So they have him do the kinds of things your average three-year-old does, and your average three-year-old will watch him do these things in rapt attention. At least, mine will. George, with his insatiable curiousity, manages to get into trouble a lot, but he also figures out smart ways out of it, and watching him use his brain to solve these problems is fascinating. There are times when I watch my kids and I can almost see the synapses firing when they figure out how to do something they couldn't before. Watching George is kinda like that.

4.BLUES CLUES
Nick Jr. is the place to find Blues Clues. Small kids loooooove repetition and routine, and few shows make use of these better than Blues' Clues. Blue is an animated dog. She lives in a mostly animated universe, but the host of the show -- Steve in early episodes, Joe later -- is human. Every show involves Blue wanting us -- the audience -- and Steve/Joe to figure out something. Blue leaves 3 clues for us to find, designated by paw prints on various objects. Steve/Joe sings the Blues Clues song whenever it's time to start finding clues. Every time Steve/Joe finds a clue, Steve/Joe writes it down in a "handy dandy notebook" retrieved from the drawer of a talking side table. Once a show, Joe/Steve gets the mail from a talking mailbox and sings a song about it. The mail includes a video "letter" from real kids. My daughter can't wait for the arrival of the mail box and for Steve/Joe to sing the mail song. The show's use of repetition and routine is very comforting to kids, who like predictability and knowing what's coming next. While I find it kinda tedious after awhile, this is the perfect show to put the kids down in front of while I make dinner; I don't have to watch it with them, but I know they're well-occupied for the window I need.

5.Classic SESAME STREET videos
The fun of watching the old school Sesame Street, instead of just the new episodes on PBS, is that you can watch stuff with your kids that you watched too. We not only have the videos, we have the SONGS OF THE STREET CD-collection, featuring 35 years of highlights. So my kids know some of the same songs I sang when I was their age. They delight in the antics of Cookie Monster as he tries to "Beat the Time" and find things that rhyme. They love Big Bird, Bert and Ernie, and I can't tell you how many times I've had to play Grover's "Over, Under And Through," which my son refers to as "Around."

We've also introduced our kids to THE SOUND OF MUSIC and, recently, OLIVER, on DVD -- never showing the entire movie, but rather, through the beauty of Scene Selection, showing them select songs. Our kids are obsessed with Maria and the Von Trapp children, and the other morning, my husband informs me, all they wanted to listen to for the entire car ride to school was "Be Back Soon" from OLIVER. For a few weeks, it was THE LONELY GOATHERD from SOUND OF MUSIC, followed by SO LONG, FAREWELL.

If you gotta listen to something again and again, I'll take Rodgers and Hammerstein over Barney anytime.

Stay-At-Home Vs. Working Mom: Can't We All Just Get Along?

In OKLAHOMA, Rodgers and Hammerstein famously wrote a song about how "The Farmer And the Cowman Should Be Friends." I think the same's true of moms who work, and moms who stay at home (who, let's face, work too ... but aren't paid).

I'll often meet a stay-at-home, full-time mom at preschool pick-up or drop-off, or at the moms' club support meetings, etc. We talk a few minutes, maybe start to bond a little over our kids' refusal to let go of our legs when we leave school ... and it comes out: I work, she's a full-time mom. Suddenly it's as if somebody punched a hole in the tire of this potential friendship, and it just went flat.

We both know it'd be hard to plan a playdate or get together for coffee. I'm not free when she's free... and probably vice versa.

Last year I wanted to help out on a charity committee that aids needy moms. Turned out all the committee meetings were on Tuesday mornings at 1o ... right when I have my mandatory weekly staff meeting. All the other moms could make the meeting, so there was no point in asking them to hold it, say, in the evening, when I could ask daddy to put the kids to bed himself.

The thing is, I've seen a kind of obliviousness on both sides: each of us forgets the other has a very different schedule and sometimes different sets of needs. Working moms, for instance, struggle to find substitute caregivers when school is closed but it's not a legal holiday and we can't get the day off. We miss work when we have to take our sick kids to the doctor, then have to make it up at night or on the weekend. I can't speak for the stay-at-homes, but I do know a few. They often get overloaded running the whole household since dad assumes they have the time -- even when they don't because their kids are a handful. They're often watching more than one kid at once, and have the bags under their eyes to show it. Sometimes they feel like they don't have an adult identity: they walk into a party on a rare night out, someone asks what they do, they say they're a full-time mom, and the asker's eyes glaze over. Some of them miss their professional lives even if they're generally happy with their choice. Meanwhile, some of us working moms wish we had more time with our kids, even though we don't want to stop working. (Maybe that's why a popular book about modern motherhood's called THE BITCH IN THE HOUSE. We're all kinda grumpy because it's hard for either type of mom to be totally satisfied.)

Point is, we have more in common than not, even if sometimes our problems are a little different.
A mom's a mom.

I hope some working moms who read this will reach out to stay-at-homes, and vice versa, in a non-judgmental, supportive way. Sometimes we're the kind of moms we are because we don't have a choice; sometimes we have a choice, and we're doing what we think is best for our families. I think it's worth going the extra mile and talking to someone on the other side of the great mom divide.

Some Way Cool Late Blooming Moms

There are plenty of well-known late blooming moms these days, but a few meet my criteria for way cool, because they've managed to do some amazing things while being late blooming moms too ... and that's no simple stunt. Sure, the ones below have an edge on the rest of us: they probably have staffs. Or at least, I know they can AFFORD staffs -- staffs to take care of themselves, let alone their kids.

But nevertheless, I consider them worthy poster moms for our growing club (and growing we are, to the point where one in five women have their FIRST kid after 35, and I'd also count the ones who wait to 35+ to become repeat moms).

J.K. Rowling, creator of HARRY POTTER, is the world's most successful living author (the series has sold approximately 400 million books), and she's performed something even more magical: gotten lots of kids to love reading. The British writer has lately become a big philanthropist -- you go, girl. Though she had her first baby in her late twenties -- the one she cared for while on welfare and writing the first POTTER book in coffee shops -- she became a late blooming mom after marrying her second husband. She had a baby at 37, then another at 39 -- during the same period she was writing of many of the books. No easy task for a mere muggle. (Potter fans raising kids will no doubt enjoy my pal Jen's blog, Julia, Harry & Me and btw, Jen's a late blooming mom too.)

Actress/activist Susan Sarandon is great on screen in everything from BULL DURHAM and THELMA AND LOUISE to the recent Disney hit ENCHANTED ... but here's what she says about being a later-in-life mom: "I had my kids late. I didn't think I could have them and I didn't expect to have them. But they are my best work." Considering how good her acting is, the kids must be stellar. Their dad, actor/director/activist Tim Robbins, is no slouch either. Susan has worked on the part of more good causes than I can count, and is an unabashed, proud progressive.

And speaking of politics ... Elizabeth Edwards is a lot more than the spouse of former senator/onetime VP candidate/2008 Democratic presidential primary contender John Edwards. She's a lawyer, educator, author, active in all sorts of charities, and the kind of gal who keeps on keeping on, even through breast cancer: hence her campaigning for her man even after being diagnosed with a recurrence. But what I find most impressive about her is that she found the courage and strength to have kids again after one of her children died in a tragic accident when his SUV overturned in high wind (for more on the questionable safety of SUVs, read Malcolm Gladwell in the New Yorker Archive) . She also established a computer lab and an ongoing scholarship fund in her late son's name. Her daughter's in law school and she's busy raising the two young kids she had in her late blooming mom-hood ... while campaigning. Me, I'm tired just reading this.

I was just a kid when ANNIE HALL came out, but even though I didn't quite get all the relationship stuff, I knew Diane Keaton was the funniest woman I'd seen on a modern movie screen, and a direct artistic descendant of the great screwball comedy actresses -- Katharine Hepburn, Rosalind Russell, Myrna Loy and Carole Lombard. Keaton continues to elevate whatever movie she's in, even if the scripts aren't so great. (Someone write a better movie for her, please?) She continues to work even though it's tough to land roles when you're over fifty in Hollywood. And though I'm sure she can afford the staff I mentioned above, whenever I've spotted her out and about with one of her kids in tow here in Los Angeles, she's doing it solo. She goes to the park or the mall with her kids like any other mom. Diane came to motherhood via adoption, but aside from avoiding the wear and tear of pregnancy on an older body, she's a late blooming mom like the rest of us. And unlike other celebrity moms, she seems to have avoided the weird celebrity trap of showing off kids as the latest fashion accessory. Clearly she's too real for all that. Yay.

Emma Thompson is the only person to have won Oscars for both acting (HOWARD'S END) and screenwriting (SENSE AND SENSIBILITY, adapted from Jane Austen's novel -- how's that for a screenwriting debut?). She's as versatile as they come, brilliantly playing two different Jane Austen heroines, carrying suppressed torches the way only the Brits can (THE REMAINS OF THE DAY), showing up in salient contemporary works like ANGELS IN AMERICA, smartly written romantic comedies (LOVE, ACTUALLY) and unafraid to do stuff that's just plain silly (ever see THE TALL GUY?). She's part of the HARRY POTTER series too (playing Professor Sybil Trelawny) and she even popped up in an uncredited role in I AM LEGEND, because the producers probably realized her very presence would lend credibility to an otherwise hard to swallow plot point. She's seemingly ubiquitous, happily for us ... yet she must take SOME time off, because she went and had a baby at forty, and later had this to say: "I have periods of intense activity, then stop. My ideal is to work hard in the morning until I pick Gaia up from school. Just putting an empty square in my diary seems to make a space in my head, too. You have to be very good at saying no." Like Emma, a lot of us established careers before a baby showed up. She may not need the paycheck as much as we do, but she knows she needs the work to keep sane: it's an integral part of who she is. A lot of us can relate to that, and we, too, have to be good at saying no.

Helen Fielding , another British woman writer like J.K. Rowling, wrote the hilarious best-selling BRIDGET JONES' DIARY and its sequel, giving voice to the angst of "singleton" women everywhere. Even though I was already married when I read BRIDGET JONES, I'd had plenty of singleton years and could still relate. Before being a bestselling writer, she used to make documentaries on poverty in Africa for Comic Relief. Her longtime boyfriend/father of her kids is a writer for THE SIMPSONS. As my own husband, who is a huge SIMPSONS fan, would say, how cool is that?