It's a brazzle dazzle day

I might be a tad embarrassed to admit to some of what Evan listens to, but never what he watches. In that department, I am the wholesome kids' movies expert, thanks in major part to a dad who still gives me The Look, should I slip up and say something less than G-rated about my derriere. (I'm pretty sure my sister and I were the only people who thought "Ice Age 2" went too far in the poop jokes department--and this was before I was a parent.) I just find the cheap laughs so unnecessary. Since when did kids' movies or cartoons have to play dumb? Evan's way too smart for that, so he's watching all the old Disney classics, the musicals, and the genuinely funny and creative cartoons I grew up on, like "Pete's Dragon." It's become his new favorite movie, thanks in part to all the songs. (Of course, there's that little ditty about slicing and dicing up poor Elliot for profit, but it is funny.) And I'm not about to be one of those crazy new-age parents who thinks the old Road Runner/Wylie Coyote cartoons promote violence. Seriously? Some people don't have enough to do. I'm against the stupidly crude, not the 'ol run-off-a-cliff-with-an-anvil joke.

And now, a short note on the tone of this blog--plus a plug for one of my favorite books:

One of my writing/point of view models is Jill Conner Browne, author of the Sweet Potato Queens books. (If you've never read them, I'm sorry for you. But there's still time. The Sweet Potato Queen's Book of Love is the first; have Amazon ship it overnight.) Then cozy up with a big bag of chips (I prefer Ruffles sour cream and cheddar, but take your pick) and wear some underwear you don't care about, because you are going to laugh until you pee your pants, I promise. With a chapter like "Sex, Fritos, and the Talking Vagina," you can't help it. If I had enough material, I'd love to write something similar; alas, I'm too boring.

Anyway (I promise I have a point--hang with me here), it's what I read at the ending of her second book that guides the way I write about Evan. In God Save the Sweet Potato Queens, Browne says that an editor friend had just finished laughing over all the wild, silly, sarcastic stuff, but then told her:

"You must bring them back to the sweetness."

That simple line really struck me. I'm often silly and sarcastic and over-dramatic when describing a frustrating moment with Evan, but honestly, most times it's for self-preservation. Sometimes you just have to laugh; otherwise, you'd cry. I prefer to laugh. But Browne's friend was right: Sweetness is the core of everything, and no matter how exasperated I may sound sometimes, I want everyone to know--and know I know--what a wonderful little boy I have. For every "You will not believe what Evan did" crazy moment, there are 100 "You will not believe what Evan did" sweet moments. And the day I forget to write those down is the day this blog will cease to exist.

So to end on a touch of sweetness, here's what I'm hearing around the house these days: "Brazzle Dazzle Day," from a smart, sweet movie...despite all the slicing and dicing.