Li'l punk

"My own" response

I got a response from Hallmark. It's generic, of course, but I did promise to let you know what they said. I am certain that I was not the only one offended by the radio ad, so I hope that "anonymous" from the last post was right and that the commercial has been pulled. Here is what they said:

Response (Support Agent) - 02/22/2007 04:52 PM
Thank you for contacting Hallmark.

Thank you for letting us know of your displeasure that a Hallmark
commercial you found offensive. We respect your views and are grateful you
took the time to share them with us. We realize this is a sensitive
issue for you, and it concerns us to learn that the placement of one of
our advertisements has been found offensive. We appreciate your
preference for Hallmark products and place a high value on your comments,
which will be carefully considered throughout our organization. It was
good of you to write us. Your letter provides us an opportunity for
further review and it will be forwarded to the appropriate department for
consideration.

We appreciate your taking the time to let us know your feelings.

Thanks,

Hallmark Consumer Care
www.Hallmark.com

When you need to send "your own" greeting

I was driving home from an extra chorus rehearsal last night when my ears caught the following on the radio:

“We tried to have a child of our own but it wasn’t working. So we adopted.” (Delivered in the most apathetic, monotone female voice you can imagine.)

“Blah blah blah blah...blah blah blah” (there was another “life story” but I didn’t hear it over the fuming in my head over the “our own” language as I waited patiently to hear what dumbass company was using this bit to make money.

Hallmark.

It seems they have a new line of cards called “Journeys” that are meant to help send a greeting to someone when the situation might be very specific and sensitive. Cancer. Infertility. Miscarriage. Caring for an aging parent. The list goes on.

While I applaud the gesture toward acknowledging that there are situations in life for which a “Get Well Soon” or “Thinking of You” card are just not quite right, the absolute FUMBLE on the radio ad is deplorable. Hallmark- you have obviously hired a team of individuals to create these “Journey” cards. To capture a specific market. Fine. Maybe you could use the same “sensitivity team” to help you create the friggin’ commercials? Did that thought cross your mind? Hmmmm?

Idiots.

(For more perspectives on the new cards, check out Brooklyn Girl, Gawker, and Julie who have already posted on this topic.)

UPDATED TO ADD: I sent a complaint to Hallmark via e-mail. If you wish to do the same, go here. I will let you know if they respond.

Potty time?

One day last week, Gabe ran up to A, pulled at his pants and said, "Daddy. Poopy." And sure enough, he had a load in his diaper. We are quite excited at the new development.

I have actually had a potty chair in the house for a long time, not because I want to rush the kid, but because the one I liked was on clearance and I had a coupon (or some other similar scenario). So, we pulled it out on Friday night and have been talking about it with Gabe. He loves to go over and sit on it. Of course, he also loves to fill the little bowl with his stuffed animals, so we're not in the final stretch by a long shot.

Honestly, we are really on the fence about the whole training issue. I don't want to rush him, but he seems to have suddenly started taking notice of his bodily functions, and I don't want to ignore that either. I am guessing that a lot of it stems from him being in the toddler room at daycare, where they have these tiny little flush toilets (they are sooooo cute), and he can see the other kids using them. Or maybe he's just tired of diapers. Or maybe it's another mode for pretend play. In any case, we're not rushing him at all. But it seems like such a grown up thing to be considering.

I'll let you know when we get a deposit that is not stuffed and furry.

Lucky mom

Yesterday's commute home was a nightmare. The roads have *still* not been cleared properly, and after struggling to get over to Gabe's daycare in the ice and snow, we proceeded to make our way home. Normally, our commute takes about 45 minutes for the 10-mile journey. When we reached the first bottleneck of the commute and found that it was completely stopped up, we knew that it would be a long drive home. While sitting in the first big jam (a bridge, so not too many choices), Gabe started asking for everything but the kitchen sink. "Bottle? Hold? (meaning hold him) Milk?" I asked him if a pretzel would suffice. "Noooooooooo" he said in a sad little pathetic voice. I felt bad and knew we were in for a long, whiney drive. So, I turned around, looked right at him and said very calmly, "The drive home is going to take a long time today. If you take a nap, it will go much faster, ok?"

And he said "ok" and went to sleep. Went. To. Sleep. Right there. No fuss. Good gawd, how did I get so lucky?

Snow Day

I spent Valentine’s Day at home hanging out with my two favorite guys, and it was nice. I had not planned to take the day off, but our city fell victim to the snow followed by ice followed by snow that hit a goodly portion of the northeast. We live on a major road, so if our street is bad, it’s just not worth venturing out. Based on the spinning of tires all day (even with about a dozen passes by the plows and salt trucks) I didn’t second-guess my decision at all.

I’ve not ever been a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. When you’re single, it just sucks all around. When you’re dating, the pressure to do just enough but not too much for the other person is awful. And when you’re married, well, you’re married, so does it really matter that you give someone a goofy card with a red heart on one day of the year? No, it really doesn’t. So, A and I pretty much agree that if we manage to say “Happy Valentine’s Day” to each other that day, ok. If not, no biggie. This year I decided to teach Gabe to say it. It came out like Happa Vateens Day- so we had to call the grandparents and share it with them.

The ice phallus has grown another six inches (it’s a full 3.5 cinder blocks high now). It’s getting close to the point of toppling over...when it does I’ll take a picture of the fall of the great phallus.

And, for those besides Tinker who wondered about the source, it’s the spot right below the condensation outlet from our high-efficiency furnace.

The Ice Phallus Cometh...

You'd think that with the cold temperatures it would be, well, smaller.

For you, S

So, I chatted for a bit with my friend S (the recently married) who informed me that he must now be famous because he was misrepresented on the internet. Well, actually his *cake* was misrepresented. The preserves in the cake were raspberry, not strawberry. There, S, now you are even more famous because you are part of an erratum on the internet. (smile) And the cake is still the best I have ever eaten, regardless of the mashed fruit held within.

Oh, and he also asked me to post more often.

This week will be insane for me, but I leave you with the thought that I have now seen Shreck about 100 times in the last month. Gabriel is decidedly obsessed with "Monster" as he calls it. I often come to work with some song or another stuck in my head. This morning, A called me to say that he had "that crazy Duloc" song stuck in his head. You know, the one that they play along to the dancing dolls just as Shreck and Donkey enter the city? Here's a refresher:

welcome to duloc
such a perfect town
here we have some rules,
let us lay them down,

don't make waves,
stay in line,
and we'll get along fine,
duloc is a perfect place

please keep feet of the grass,
shine your shoes,
wipe your............face!
duloc is,
duloc is,
duloc is a perfect place

The song must really make one crazy because not only did A have it stuck in his head, but he drove over to the daycare after dropping me off. He pulled into the lot, parked, and was saying "are you ready for school?" when he realized that the carseat was empty because Gabe is at Grandma's house on Wednesdays.

That Shreck is crazy, I tell ya. Now I need me some parfait.