Here’s some rather peculiar interesting news: there’s now a Martha Stewart cartoon for kids. AOL Kids just launched “Martha & Friends,” an animated web series featuring 10-year-old Martha and her buddies Kevin, Lilly, Hannah, Francesca and Sharkey. (Francesca and Sharkey are her dogs but I’m guessing they eat better than I do).  I should watch it. I might finally find a Martha Stewart project I can actually do. But I doubt it.

Here’s some rather peculiar interesting news: there’s now a Martha Stewart cartoon for kids. AOL Kids just launched “Martha & Friends,” an animated web series featuring 10-year-old Martha and her buddies Kevin, Lilly, Hannah, Francesca and Sharkey. (Francesca and Sharkey are her dogs but I’m guessing they eat better than I do). 

I should watch it. I might finally find a Martha Stewart project I can actually do. But I doubt it.


CREVI (crev-eye): The many new and ever-changing folds, creases and indentations on a baby in which substances can become lodged or trapped. I witnessed the changing of my one-month-old niece recently.  Her body isn’t very chubby, yet, so I was flabbergasted at the site of all the folds and ripples on her tiny little legs.  In my amazement, I blurted out this word to describe her many crevices. (Submitted by Noah Dunavan of Turlock, CA.)Well, Noah, in my amazement, I blurted out this word at my four month old’s recent pediatrician visit. After you sent the word to me, it instantly became a part of my vocabulary. And, when I was describing how red my kiddo got in all of his creases, I used the word CREVI to describe them without any explanation at all. Perhaps one day my doctor will use it with his patients. And so on and so on until CREVI achieves world domination or a level of fame reserved for only British royalty or a Kardashian sister. I’ve also referred to CREVI as “the lost and found.” What about you? What do you call “baby folds”?


CREVI (crev-eye): The many new and ever-changing folds, creases and indentations on a baby in which substances can become lodged or trapped. I witnessed the changing of my one-month-old niece recently.  Her body isn’t very chubby, yet, so I was flabbergasted at the site of all the folds and ripples on her tiny little legs.  In my amazement, I blurted out this word to describe her many crevices. (Submitted by Noah Dunavan of Turlock, CA.)

Well, Noah, in my amazement, I blurted out this word at my four month old’s recent pediatrician visit. After you sent the word to me, it instantly became a part of my vocabulary. And, when I was describing how red my kiddo got in all of his creases, I used the word CREVI to describe them without any explanation at all. Perhaps one day my doctor will use it with his patients. And so on and so on until CREVI achieves world domination or a level of fame reserved for only British royalty or a Kardashian sister. I’ve also referred to CREVI as “the lost and found.” What about you? What do you call “baby folds”?

You know the bumper stickers that say, “My kid is an honor roll student…”? Of COURSE you do. First, let me just say that I don’t have an issue with parents being proud of their children. When my oldest son first learned to put on socks by himself, I wanted to take out an ad in the newspaper. Ditto for him going down the slide alone at the playground. And, when he was finally potty trained, I DID take out an ad in the newspaper. But the bumper stickers? I have some questions: Are there any rules? Does anyone regulate the use of the stickers? I mean, a kid can make honor roll winter semester and then screw up a Spanish quiz and… poof… no  honor roll next time. If this happens, are you required to remove the sticker? And, how do I know that your child really made the honor roll? I’ve seen websites that sell the bumper stickers online. Does anyone require proof? Are you supposed to drive around with a copy of your daughter’s most recent report card in your glove compartment? I think that should be required. “My child is an honor roll student at ____. I would be happy to show you her report card at the next stop light.”

You know the bumper stickers that say, “My kid is an honor roll student…”? Of COURSE you do. First, let me just say that I don’t have an issue with parents being proud of their children. When my oldest son first learned to put on socks by himself, I wanted to take out an ad in the newspaper. Ditto for him going down the slide alone at the playground. And, when he was finally potty trained, I DID take out an ad in the newspaper.

But the bumper stickers? I have some questions:

Are there any rules? Does anyone regulate the use of the stickers? I mean, a kid can make honor roll winter semester and then screw up a Spanish quiz and… poof… no  honor roll next time. If this happens, are you required to remove the sticker? And, how do I know that your child really made the honor roll? I’ve seen websites that sell the bumper stickers online. Does anyone require proof? Are you supposed to drive around with a copy of your daughter’s most recent report card in your glove compartment? I think that should be required. “My child is an honor roll student at ____. I would be happy to show you her report card at the next stop light.”

Dona Nishi is a fellow Chicagoan — so, I like her already. (Yes, I like every single person who lives in my vicinity. Every single one. What’s wrong with that? It just means more people from whom to borrow sugar and ask for restaurant recommendations.) Her five-year-old daughter recently lost her first tooth and Dona asks, “Any chance someone has a word for that bittersweet time, or a way to combine how anxious we are for that first tooth to come in, and then leave again?” Of course, I want to help Dona out since she lives in Chicago. (Oh, did I mention that we are the only city thus far to give Charlie Sheen a standing ovation after one of his WINNING concerts while most other cities booed the guy. Now, there’s something to be proud of. Right, Dona?) I can’t think of any words for Dona though. So, if any of you have a word for a wiggly tooth, or a child’s excitement over losing a tooth or anything to do with teeth or the Tooth Fairy, please let Dona and me know. By the way, I spent about 10 hours researching all things Tooth Fairy by visiting the Tooth Fairy Wikipedia page. (Okay, it was more like 10 seconds but it still was a lot of work. I had to open a new page. And, I had to close it when I was done.) Three interesting facts related to the Tooth Fairy that I learned from Wikipedia: FACT ONE — There was a Tooth Fairy museum in Deerfield, IL for 17 years. (Deerfield’s just north of Chicago. This is Chicago day at Mammalingo.) It was run out of the home of Dr. Rosemary Wells, a former professor at the Northwestern University Dental School. I think this is just one of the sweetest things I’ve read recently. And, even if Dr. Wells (who ran the museum from her OWN home when she was alive) used to give out toothbrushes on Halloween, I would be okay with that.  FACT TWO — There was a horror movie called, “The Tooth Fairy.” In it, a woman killed children for their teeth. That is not one of the sweetest things I’ve read recently. I have not seen this movie yet. Wait, did the word ‘yet’ imply that I would be seeing the film? Let me rephrase, then: I have not seen this movie. Period.  FACT THREE — According to Wikipedia, the largest amount of money ever given to a child for a baby tooth was $1.2 million and there was “a sliding scale for each subsequent tooth lost.” I think this fact is even more frightening than the plot of the horror film, “The Tooth Fairy.” In case you’re wondering if this is even true, I have to remind you that I found it on Wikipedia; so yes, it must have happened. I’ve mentioned before that everything you read on the Internet is true. This also means that I am not going grey, I exercise every day, I never lose patience with my children, and I floss twice daily (see how I brought it back to teeth?).  

Dona Nishi is a fellow Chicagoan — so, I like her already. (Yes, I like every single person who lives in my vicinity. Every single one. What’s wrong with that? It just means more people from whom to borrow sugar and ask for restaurant recommendations.) Her five-year-old daughter recently lost her first tooth and Dona asks, “Any chance someone has a word for that bittersweet time, or a way to combine how anxious we are for that first tooth to come in, and then leave again?”

Of course, I want to help Dona out since she lives in Chicago. (Oh, did I mention that we are the only city thus far to give Charlie Sheen a standing ovation after one of his WINNING concerts while most other cities booed the guy. Now, there’s something to be proud of. Right, Dona?) I can’t think of any words for Dona though. So, if any of you have a word for a wiggly tooth, or a child’s excitement over losing a tooth or anything to do with teeth or the Tooth Fairy, please let Dona and me know.

By the way, I spent about 10 hours researching all things Tooth Fairy by visiting the Tooth Fairy Wikipedia page. (Okay, it was more like 10 seconds but it still was a lot of work. I had to open a new page. And, I had to close it when I was done.)

Three interesting facts related to the Tooth Fairy that I learned from Wikipedia:

FACT ONE — There was a Tooth Fairy museum in Deerfield, IL for 17 years. (Deerfield’s just north of Chicago. This is Chicago day at Mammalingo.) It was run out of the home of Dr. Rosemary Wells, a former professor at the Northwestern University Dental School. I think this is just one of the sweetest things I’ve read recently. And, even if Dr. Wells (who ran the museum from her OWN home when she was alive) used to give out toothbrushes on Halloween, I would be okay with that. 

FACT TWO — There was a horror movie called, “The Tooth Fairy.” In it, a woman killed children for their teeth. That is not one of the sweetest things I’ve read recently. I have not seen this movie yet. Wait, did the word ‘yet’ imply that I would be seeing the film? Let me rephrase, then: I have not seen this movie. Period. 

FACT THREE — According to Wikipedia, the largest amount of money ever given to a child for a baby tooth was $1.2 million and there was “a sliding scale for each subsequent tooth lost.” I think this fact is even more frightening than the plot of the horror film, “The Tooth Fairy.” In case you’re wondering if this is even true, I have to remind you that I found it on Wikipedia; so yes, it must have happened. I’ve mentioned before that everything you read on the Internet is true. This also means that I am not going grey, I exercise every day, I never lose patience with my children, and I floss twice daily (see how I brought it back to teeth?).