Thursday, August 14, 2008


The on-going saga of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood continues. And it's rather sucky.

So, I wrote to our local public television channel. Here's the response:

Dear Allanna,

Thank you for contacting Oregon Public Broadcasting. I appreciate your taking the time to write.

After Labor Day, Mr. Rogers will air on Saturday and Sunday only at 7:30. The program that airs on Sunday will be repeated the following Saturday.

PBS continues to invest in the MISTER ROGERS’ NEIGHBORHOOD Web site at, enriching content with new games, activities and resources for kids, parents and teachers. In addition, PBS and Family Communications, Inc. are planning to preserve MISTER ROGERS’ NEIGHBORHOOD content and make it available on demand through Web streaming so families can access it 24/7. We will also engage Fred Rogers’ many active fans to vote for favorite episodes, share stories and more.

Again, thank you for your interest in OPB. It is through your support that OPB remains independent and strong. We could not do it without you.


OPB Member Center

Sucks!! Nooooooo! Mr. Rogers on the telly only twice a week?!?
(At least having it streaming online is a small concession ... but, really, I want a channel with All Fred Rogers-All the Time, dagnabit!

So, if we are going to change this, we're going to need to seriously flood some public-broadcasting offices with emails and letters and phone calls. (Hey, maybe the next time that they have one of those days/weeks/months where they're fundraising, we should just start calling in ... not to donate or get a membership ... but to vent that we're not going to donate until Mr. Rogers is on their channel everyday. (And, hey, if you want to get Barney outta there, I'd have no problems with that. Just keepin' it real.)

BESIDES that, the other thing I have to vent about is that my children are gettin' on my nerves. Like a ton.

We went to storytime today (I know! We actually made it! And almost on time!) ... and not even ten minutes into it, Bucket's all, "I hafta potty." And I'm all, "Can't it wait? It feels like you already went!" And she's all, "Hafta potty. Mommy. Potty." So, Bruise gets in on this by demanding water. So I take them to the bathroom. Bucket refuses to go. "Bruise-y potty." "So, you're telling me you DON'T have to potty?!?" is my dangerously hissed reply.
And, of course, Bruise doesn't want to go pee. So they get their drinks from the water fountain. AND THEN they don't care to go back into storytime. So I take them over to the children's section so I can grab a library activities calendar for the month ... and Bruise starts to play with the train table as I pick out some books for the kidlets. Bucket starts to play with the toy kitchen in there ... and promptly melts into hysterics when I look for books around a shelf not ten feet from her, but out of her line of vision. (And, I DID tell her where I was going. It's not like it was a total shock, mind you.)
She decided to keep screaming. And so I needed to get us the hell outta there. And, taking Bruise away from the trains? ... Let's refrain from talking about it ... except to say that his tantrum put hers to shame. And he KEPT. AT. IT.

Enough that a girl motioned to me that he was too loud and needed to quiet down.
Yeah, thanks much. how about YOU calm down my son as I'm holding a stack of books about a foot high and trying to calm down two toddlers.

Hey, I've been going to libraries for YEARS. Probably more years than I've been on this side of the womb, really. I know proper library etiquette. And I am more than aware that my children, especially my tantrum-throwing little wanna-be Incredible Hulk is NOT demonstrating a good example of proper library etiquette.

Excuse me while I headdesk a little, okay? And be proud of me that I did not throw him over my knee (spilling my said pile o' books) and give him a hiding. Because, oh, I was tempted. But I knew that (1) it wouldn't be good parenting, (2) I'd regret it and feel very guilty if I DID do it, and (3) it would just make him scream even louder ... if such a thing were possible. And knowing him, he'd find a way.

*headdesks away*

Okay, I'm back. I got the screaming brigade out to the van, lectured them firmly about proper library behavior (why do I keep wanting to spell 'behavior' the Brit way? Maybe because I AM just that pretentious?), and went to fill up the gas tank.

Oh, and to help my little problem of the kidlets waking me up every morning, we've put a lock on their door. It keeps them in their room during naptime and bedtime. If only I could get muzzles, too.
(Jooooooooooooking! Don't call CPS on me yet. ... Though the thought of muzzling my darlings is sorely tempting, I know that it is NOT GOOD PARENTING. So I won't do it. Just like how I won't hang them on the walls with duct tape. ... VERY temping at times. But it'd rip the panelling in the house something fierce. Oh, and it's not a good way to treat one's offspring.) (Because most of the time, I DO remember that I love them fiercely, with the passion and intensity of one hundred grizzly bears.) (And then, there are the times when I have to REMIND myself that I do love them with the passion and intensity of one hundred grizzly bears.) (And there are those other times that I have to remind myself that it's only about another sixteen years and they'll be off to college and stuff ... and I can sleep in the whole day, if I so choose.)

(Anyone else have to go through those reminders?) (I'm not a terrible person, right?)

But, yeah, I need to finish folding laundry, put a load of dishes through the dishwasher, pack for a quick trip to visit family, and go soak my head or something. And doing some visiting teaching would be good. I have plans to do that.

So, um, yeah.

And I need to make food. Yeah. Fun. Wish me luck and all.

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