Tween Girls Beware of Deadly Build-a-Bear Flu

U.S. health officials expressed concern today that a Build-a-Bear flu virus that has infected several tweens in the New York suburb of Scarsdale matches samples of a virus that has killed at least 52 different Build-a-Bears in a Fresno shopping mall.

Public health experts also are concerned because more than 1,000 girls have fallen ill after taking a new Build-a-Bear to bed.

"This situation has been developing quickly," said a CDC representative. "As part of our emergency health procedures, all Build-a-Bears will be tested for fever at the nation's airports."

New York health officials announced Friday they are testing about 75 plush toys at a Queens toy store for the Build-a-Bear flu, which is thought to be transferable not only to tween girls, but also to other stuffed animals.

Although they are still selling the wildly popular teddy bears, Build-a-Bear stores nationwide have begun a wide scale testing protocol, focused on the shared stuffing pool where synthetic fibers are tossed and tumbled communal vat of innards. Tiny cotton face masks are also available as an add-on sale with a Build-a-Bear.

Wall Street lamented the deadly flu this week as stock in Hannah Montana took a dive. Economic experts worry that a pandemic could wreak havoc on our fragile economic recovery

"The only thing people are still buying is stuff for these screaming tween girls," said one frazzled trader. "If we lose that sector, we're all doomed! Doomed I tell you!"

Perhaps due to the genetic makeup of the fast-spreading Build-a-Bear strain of influenza, which includes genetic elements from Big Bird flu, Miss Piggy flu and snot nosed children spanning three continents, there is considerable speculation that the origins of this virus are man-made.

And then there are the conspiracy theories. It's not an unreasonable question to ask: Could world governments have conspired to cause the downfall of Hannah Montana forever by a calculated execution of her fan base? The leader of the free world is, after all, the father of tween girls. Is this all a devious plan to rid our nation of the bop-bop beat of a Disney soundtrack?

Encouraged by President Barack Obama could dark forces have distributed a super virulent strain of influenza designed to "correct" the Hannah Montana problem?

Only time will tell. For now, hold your bears tight.

Disclaimer: Because my husband has a real job, one that provides value to society and not just smart remarks, he often wonders if I'm ever afraid that said remarks might inspire a lawsuit. Therefore, let it be known that this is purely an imaginary news report. No actual stuffed bears, Build or otherwise, have been harmed in the making of this post. Nor have any toys been found to carry a flu virus - on account of they're not alive. Furthermore, the Davidson family adores Build-a-Bear. In fact, if the Build-a-Bear people wanted to send over some coupons for bears, we would gladly accept them. Heck, we'd even give them away to our beloved readers.

Confessions of a Dirty Housewife

A couple of years ago I started enlisting the kids in a weekly ritual I like to call The Hour in Which My House No Longer Smells Like Dog and Used Kleenex. I followed up throughout the week with nag-the-children-to-pick-up-their-things-until-mommy's-saliva-dries-up. But somehow it's not working. Somehow I am still slightly fearful that I'll pick up a staff infection from my own bathroom.

I feel guilty. But not because my house is a hot mess. I feel guilty for feeling like I should be able to do it all and not getting help. Because really - when there's a quarter inch coat of dust that actually changes the color of that lovely glass vase you got for your wedding - when the dust bunnies have turned into a pack of vicious jack rabbits - when there's stuff in the fridge that you can't identify - when it's that bad - you need help.

So a couple of weeks ago I finally broke down and called the woman who used to clean our house. And wouldn't you know that poor dear was out of work? Providing a regular gig was the least I could do. Besides, now the kids and I can work on the deep detail cleaning more often so as to thwart the landfill-o-crap that threatens to overtake their bedrooms.

As I waltzed through the house on a lavender and Pledge scented cloud of happiness, I felt better. Not just because all the tiny hairs had been whisked away, but because I had a hand in the financial recovery of our nation.

Stimulate the economy: hire a housekeeper.

Can't enough of my wit? See these gems:

Treat Your Husband This Valentine's Day: Morph Into a 1950s Housewife
Cleaning the Children's Suite - It's No Earth Day Up There


Should you desire to clean your own house, check out tips and tricks over on Parent Bloggers Network.

Spring Cleaning the Children's Suite - It's No Earth Day Up There

My kids have the entire upstairs of our house to themselves. Two bedrooms, and adjoining bathroom, and a bonus room big enough to store all their toys, craft supplies, video games, fish, and apparently a landfill's worth of garbage. Yes, four bags to be precise. And that last bag - the chock full bursting at the seams bag? That's the one I filled after the kids both assured me that there was NO garbage, at all, none, zero, zip, left up there. I knew better.

I don't know why my children - the same children who throw a fit if they see me toss anything remotely recyclable into the trash, the same children who recently pressed my husband to call for his company to use only recycled plastics, the same children who won't let me leave the water running for more than 6 seconds at a shot - create so much trash.

And I know, yeah, yeah it's my fault. But really it's not because I don't buy them all the crap that ends up clogging their rooms so that one whole half of my house looks like the opening scene of Wall-E. Between the school treasure boxes, the award certificates they get for merely showing up and breathing at practically anything, competing grandparents, and their friends' ever increasingly generous birthday goodie bags - we've got a load of mess up there! Happy Earth Day!

Among the typical empty candy wrappers, spit laden gobstoppers, wadded up tissue, inkless pens, and toys that don't work, I found unidentified underwear, fishnet stockings for the Whore Barbie, and a pee-scented sleeping bag wadded into a closet.

Spring cleaning: magical.

Easter, Therapy, and Deadly Legumes

Here are some of the things that amused me this week.

• Wendi Aarons threw down the new rules for Easter Egg hunts.
• Jessica Bern reminds us to think twice before asking for the credit card customer service manager.
• Sugar Jones implores us to resist the draw of the sexy Peekaroo.
• Munchausen by Peanut - Laura Bennet and the rant I wish I'd written.

Who else should we be reading?

Every Five Years or So I Look Back on My Life

No, this is not going to be some deep Deepak-Oprahesque post. Don't worry. It's just that I was dinking around on Technorati today and found some old memes I'd been tagged in that I never responded to. Now, if you've ever sent me one of those emails where you're supposed to fill in the answers and something really cool happens and I'm supposed to send it back to you and yada-yada-yada, then you'll know... I don't do well with those type of things.

However, in the interest of making new friends online (sorry, you old, faithful email friends - what can I say - get a blog) I'm going to try and make up for all those memes I've ignored in the past. So this is for you Carma, Jayesel, Lindsay, and everyone else who's asked for 5 things or 8 things, or the recently, highly unreasonable 25 things via Facebook.

The truth is, these kind of open ended questions just put me into a tailspin. Which 5 things? Seriously? Which freaking 5 things out of my entire existence shall I share? The pressure is extraordinary. I need constraints!

So if you know the song, you'll know what the Indigo Girls (Amy Ray and Emily Saliers) say:
Every five years or so I look back on my life and I have a good laugh.
So let's laugh at me, in five year increments. Shall we?

In 2004 - Moved to Arkansas. Sometimes, when I think about it - I can't believe it. I live in Arkansas. And I love it.

In 1999 - Baked three cakes from scratch for kid #1's first birthday party. Got pregnant with kid #2. Totally unrelated.

In 1994 - Got married in a seriously bad eyebrow phase. Thicker and darker is not always better.

In 1989 - Let's say it in music: Jodi Watley, Terrence Trent D'Arby, Paula Abdul. Am I painting a picture here? Can you see me selling clothes at the mall? Ohmigod - that looks SO good on you!

In 1984 - Began a career of college-level partying, in high school. And yet, due to my cosmic life status as 'charmed', never once got so much as an MIP (that's Minor in Possession, of alcohol).

In 1979 - Rocked Disneyland in a lime green jumpsuit. With plaid accents.

In 1974 - After spending the night in pink foam rollers, arrived at picture day looking like a red-headed JonBenet Ramsey.

In 1969 - I was born on Thanksgiving. And yes, if I come to your house for turkey, I expect a gift.

Okay, so maybe not that witty, but a load off nonetheless. I know you're supposed to tag people in these things, but give a girl a break. Baby steps, okay?

7 Surefire Ways to Get Yourself Blacklisted from the PTA

You hate the PTA. Admit it. You don't like volunteering to help with field day or baking muffins for all those ungrateful teachers. But someone's got to do it, right? Much as you cannot stand the thought of one more silent auction committee, you also don't want to be that mom. You know, the slacker who doesn't care about the social and educational future of her children.


Instead of actually having to say no, wouldn't it be so much easier to simple get your sorry ass kicked right out of the PTA?


Here are 7 surefire techniques for getting banned from the PTA forever:


#1 - Pass out peanuts.
Peanuts in public schools are like anthrax in Washington. Distribute peanut M&Ms to the kids in your charge at the petting zoo and you'll never organize another field trip.


#2 - Get a job.
This is a drastic step, but if you miss enough of those 10:am meetings, you'll never be asked to join another committee. Bonus: for this technique to work, you don't actually have to get a job, but merely convince others that you have.

#3 - Botch the bulletin board.
You will eventually be asked to create an adorable bulletin board made of QTips or stunning botanical scenery for the second grade musical. Creating a horrid piece of artwork should be easy so if you're in a hurry to get the boot, volunteer for this.


#4 - Show off your tramp stamp.
There is nothing to get mouths a-gaping like a little ink below the waist line. Strategic use of low rise jeans can insulate you from years of fall carnival shifts, spaghetti socials, and any other event that would put you in proximity of any Mr. PTAs.


#5 - Buy the wrong color.
It doesn't matter what it is - balloons, paper plates, napkins - go against the committee's ruling on a particular nuance of forest green and you can kiss your PTA career goodbye.

#6 - Piss off the Queen.
Work with your personality to find the most effective way to enrage the PTA Queen. It's important to understand that PTA Queens often operate outside the official hierarchy of the PTA system. Learn who they are, irritate them, and go on with your merry non-PTA existence.


#7 - Embezzle the funds.
This is perhaps the most drastic step of all, but in many cases can result not only in your being shunned from the PTA, but every other well-meaning, time-sucking volunteer organization in town.


Keep all these in mind next time you stroll your happy little self down to the PTA meeting. Because really, aren't they all a little easier than just saying no?


Have you been blacklisted from the PTA? We need your tips! Please help your fellow moms by sharing in the comments below!


More of My PTA Experience:

How Many Parents Does It Take to Make the 5th Grade Homecoming Float? - In a moment of weakness I volunteered for the 5th grade homecoming float committee. I know - the 5th grade has a homecoming float?

PTA Challenged - The day before the Thanksgiving musical, after the dress rehearsal, I got some feedback that maybe my son’s turkey costume wasn’t exactly the best in show.

Room Mother at Last - No one believed I could do it, but this post proves I did. And once is enough, right?



Image Credit: Marlon Hammes, Flickr

Welcome to My iPhone World

It is quite amazing how quickly one can be sucked up into the iPhone and wonder how on Earth she ever survived without it. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to wake up in the morning without my handy custom alarms. And I can't tell you how much food has not been burned thanks to the timer. And now there are apps! Oh the joy of apps!

I wrote about how I decided to get the iPhone, and more ways I use it (so far!) on HubPages. (PS - HubPages has gotten a cute face lift, check it out!) I've also started using some of the apps and I put together a list of some good iPhone apps for parents here.

Finally, I found this little gem of iPhone tips on Twitter (follow me!). It's got me thinking of more ways to use the iPhone.

Have fun, fellow (and future) Apple addicts!

iPhones, Gifted Kids, and Homeschooling - New on Hubpages

Here's a sampling of what I've been writing about lately on Hubpages.

How I Love My iPhone, Let Me Count the Ways - Ever since I got my iPhone six months ago people have been asking, “How do you like it?” I am here to tell you all the reasons why I LOVE it, and all the ways it has made my life easier.

When a Gifted Child Flounders in School: One Mother's Story - Sometimes it’s difficult to know whether or not a child is gifted, especially when teachers are treating your little genius as a problem child. Since I started writing about gifted kids and how to identify them, I’ve received several messages from parents looking for advice. I got permission to share this one because it’s a great example of what a lot of people go through.

How to Choose an MFA in Creative Writing Program: Cost and Benefit - I’ve toyed with the idea of pursuing a Master’s Degree in Fine Arts (MFA) in Creative Writing. But every time I try to wrap my head around it, I can never quite narrow down what it is exactly that I’m trying to accomplish. If you’re struggling with the decision too, here are some things to consider.

Should You Homeschool? A Step-by-Step Guide to Making the Homeschool Decision - Homeschooling is becoming a popular alternative to the traditional school environment for many families. There are many advantages to homeschooling, such as customizing education to your child’s individual needs, having flexibility over scheduling, and achieving more influence over children. However, there are also many drawbacks and the decision to homeschool should not be taken lightly.

The Case of the Easter Bunny

I admit it: I can’t wait until the days when the Easter Bunny no longer hops by our house. It’s not that I don’t like holidays, I just can’t take the pressure of having to be responsible for making them happen. And the trouble with children is that you can’t pull much over on them, especially when they seem to be on the elementary school track for pre-pre-law.

This is the story of one Easter Eve a few years ago. I lay in bed trying to fall asleep amid some low level tension because something just wasn’t quite right. Suddenly I bolted up, frightening my husband out of a sound snore.

“Oh crap!” I said, “I’ve got to do the Easter baskets!” I got up, turned on lights, rummaged through the guest room closet for baskets and candy, and set about making the sweetest little tokens of love from the Easter Bunny. I put them in the kids’ doorways and went back to bed, where the father of my children was sleeping just as peacefully as before my crisis.

In the morning the kids came to our room to show us their loot. My then six-year-old daughter looked up at me with genuine curiosity. “I wonder why the Easter Bunny gave us the same baskets as last year?”

Note: If you’ve been reading this column long, you already know that the Easter Bunny is a touch stingy. She doesn’t really see the point in buying new baskets year after year, and this was the year she decided to test her theory that the kids wouldn’t really notice anyway.

“Mom?” my daughter asked, “Are YOU the Easter Bunny?” Leave it to the little one.

I shook my head and offered up a little snort. “Do I look like I’ve been out all morning hopping around dropping off Easter baskets?”

She eyed me, weighing whether or not to push the matter. She was holding a bag of sugar after all. Finally, the little lawyer-in-training just wouldn’t let it go. “It’s just that you said the Easter Bunny was a girl AND the Easter Bunny knows what kind of books we like AND ----“
Maybe Mommy needed a basket full of Midol. I snapped. “I’m not the Easter Bunny. Okay?”

Everybody backed off the bunny.

When they asked later why the Easter Bunny didn’t give them very much candy this year, I told them maybe she knew they’d be getting a lot of candy at the Easter egg hunt that afternoon.

“Not that I would know,” I added. That was my fatal mistake. If this were a Grisham movie, there would be a close up on me as a bead of sweat made it’s way down my nose.

“Are you sure you’re not the Easter Bunny?” my son asked. His eyes narrowed. “Because usually when people say ‘not that I would know’ it means they know.”

It’s getting hard to come up with smart remarks, but not impossible.

“And usually when a kid asks too many questions about a basket of candy, it means they go to bed early and a monster comes in the night and eats all their candy.”

Case closed.


This is the After the Bubbly column that appears in the April issue of Peekaboo magazine. If you'd like to see it in your local parenting magazine, drop me a note. Thanks!