Kindred Spirits


This is the cover of the Anne of Green Gables book I had.She’s a hottie, right?












Y’all. I am very picky.
I don’t like my potato salad unless it is made with Hellman’s mayonnaise. (No, this post was not sponsored by Hellman’s. Call me? Hellman’s?? We can work something out, K?)
I don’t like books that have too many dialogue tags. “They are tedious,” she said, tediously.
I only like spring days that still have a bite of cool in them. Otherwise there’s sneezing. And it’s not the cute, delicate lady-sneezing like a baby bunny. My sneezing is wet-gorilla sneezing.
Apples must be tart. This Red Delicious nonsense is just a dumbing down of apples.
And, classic books don’t translate well into film. In general. I mean, have you SEEN The Scarlet Letter? I’m talking the Demi Moore version. Enough said.
I have read every one of the Anne of Green Gables series, MULTIPLE times. And, yes, I did allow the 1985 television adaptation (with an awesomely cranky Marilla by Colleen Dewhurst).
So, when the great Netflixes informed me that a NEW ANNE was coming… I was skeptical. You know when someone says to you, “Hey! I made some chocolate chip cookies!” and just as you take a bite they add, “Gluten, egg, and dairy free! YOU CAN’T EVEN TELL, CAN YOU.”
You can tell. You can so totally tell.
That’s how I felt about a New Anne.  But, y’all – Netflix has done it right.


This is a series that is so in tune with my Anne that I nearly cried. Which, as you know, is something a totally dramatic girl would do. This is an Anne that is comical and tragic and gawky,  and at times plain, and at at other times just aglow (when she is least aware of it). She is, in other words, what we girls are. Or me, at least. I do comical and tragic and gawky. I do plain.

I even, every once in a while, glow.
I sat down to start watching this while folding laundry one night because God forbid I ever just watch something without folding laundry. The boys were playing “Smash All the Things” in the other room, but as soon as they heard the television come on, they started sniffing around like the little tv vultures they are.

“Whatcha watchin?” Red asked. “Is it Star Wars? Legos? Something with swords?” I sighed and folded my four hundredth pair of Lego Star Wars underpants. He stared at the screen and then, asked… “Anne of… Green Bagels?”
“No, dear. Shhhhhh. Mommy’s watching. Mommy needs this show.”
We watched, and Blonde, another heat-seeking (i.e. television) missile wandered in, and we all soaked in all the Gables and the Green-ness.

Anne says,  ““Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think.” Anne and I are kindred spirits. She has the same ideas about classic literature and potato salad, I am sure of it. Watch, you’ll see.


As a Netflix StreamTeam blogger, I get to watch the awesomeness that is Netflix, and chatter about it on Momsie. It’s a great gig.




Monday Manuscript. And dinosaurs.

I have every good intention there ever was to be a quality mother.  All those intentions are neatly alphabetized and filed away (some cross-referenced and highly foot-noted, extremely organized) ready for use at a moment’s notice.

So yesterday, I decided to use this one:

Good Intention #456:  My childhood nostalgia shall be THEIR nostalgia too.

You know why.  You share something from your childhood (like Pixie Stix, or putting playing cards in bike spokes, or velour track suits) and this sharing creates bonding and talk about When Mommy was Little, which creates awe.  Plus, my sons know how to rock velour now. Always a plus.

Yep, Good Intention #456 is a winner.

For the most part.

So yesterday I had this brilliant idea:

Land of the Lost tv show 1970's

I loved this show.  Absolutely loved it.  I loved Holly’s blonde pigtails and toothy smile. I loved the dad’s stalwart spirit, even though somehow he had landed his family in a weird claymation dinosaur fun park with mutant lizard things, probably forever.   Oh, and I loooooooved Will.  Will and his cute shorts and open shirt.  Will had angst.  He was ticked, people.  He had been removed from the awesome 70’s and put in this weird fun park with Sleestaks and Chaka, the most annoying ape teen ever, and thus he had attitude.  He was the David Cassidy of the show, and I just adored him.

And perhaps all that adoration (except for Chaka because really?  If you can get past the major overbite and eyebrow issues, he had a rather unpleasantly needy personality) helped me have a momentary lapse and I decided to share the love with my boys.  (And, thank you, You Tube.)

I so thought this was a good idea.  Look boys, 70’s kitsch!   Awful special effects!  Holes in the plot line!  All here!

The wee ones did not love Chaka or the pigtails, or one little BIT of the Sleestaks (I know, I could have seen that coming a mile off) and especially, oh heck NO they did NOT like the angry claymation attempt at a Tyrannosaurus Rex that for some reason I had remembered as goofy and somewhat smooshed to one side looking, but my boys pretty much equated with Satan is IN THE TELEVISION IN THE FORM OF THAT DINOSAUR MAKE IS STOP MOMMYYYYYYY.

And so that bonding moment was a bit lost (GET IT?  SEE WHAT I DID THERE??  Yes, I’m making puns at the expense of my toddlers’ trauma, but I have no choice.  I deal with guilt through twisted humor, people.  This is healing.)

So after I flung myself at the tv to get the lopsided T-rex OFF of there, and spent the next twenty or so minutes talking both my toddlers’ down off the Paleozoic ledge of hysteria because their mommy had flung SLEESTAKS at them, I decided to share with you my favorite dinosaur (toddler tested and approved) books that we have been reading that WON’T traumatize and keep ALL good intentions still intact.

1.  The classic option (minus Sleestaks):


2.  The soothing and hugely comforting, go to sleep and dream about whatever you like, even dinosaurs, because you can always draw yourself back to your bed option:9780060005412

3.  The flop down on the living room floor and carefully study over and over and over option:51jW6nbDJ4L

4.  The book that Mommy likes a lot because, wow, the pictures:


5.  Oh, and this option because it tells us how to eat with manners (dinosaurs lack them at dinner, it seems. Sometimes toddlers do too.):


So.  We’re all set.  We have our books.  The You Tubes has been banished (for a while, at least) and I have learned my lesson.  Really.  I have.  No more weird, nostalgic TV shows for my boys.  HR Pufnstuf?  Anyone?

When I was 8? This show was awesome.  Now?  This show is really really really bad.  Avoid it, ya'll.

Don’t even get me started on this gem.


I know better.

So, here’s tonight’s book selection:


heh heh.