We are number one for Rebecca Eckler's Wiped!

Now updated!!! Just scroll down for Postie's review and a link to the full Quill and Quire article.
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Despite not having mentioned this notorious book for one whole week, despite not having received a review copy, and despite devoting 100% of our blogging space to so-called invisible deodorant and Mario Dumont for the past seven days, Reject the Koolaid is now the number one source on the internet for news on Rebecca Eckler's Wiped!



Tearfree would like to officially announce her new line of consulting work: book publicist. If you have a book that needs promoting, just let her know and she'll give you a quote.

Wiped Updates:

Postie reviews Wiped! Life with a Pint-Sized Dictator

By Postie, loyal RTK reader and commenter

It's hard to know precisely how to characterize this book. It's bad, but it's not as stupefyingly horrific as Eckler's debut outing, Knocked Up, which chronicled how she got pregnant "by accident" on the night of her engagement party and then how her ass expanded throughout the following nine months. If you didn't get a chance to read Knocked Up, that pretty much sums it up: Rebecca Eckler got knocked up, gained weight and freaked out about it in an astonishingly illiterate manner for many, many pages.

There is plenty more ass talk in Wiped!, but it seems Key Porter has either hired a ghostwriter or an extremely aggressive copy editor, because it's more focused and the writing is marginally better than the rambling drivel to be found in Knocked Up. Make no mistake, however: Eckler spends much of the first half of the book whining about the size of her ass, the difficulty in losing the weight, and the fact that she loses clumps of hair post-partum. But what the book reveals most stunningly is how utterly ill-equipped and emotionally unprepared she and her "fiance,'' the corporate lawyer, seemed to be regarding their impending parenthood. Perhaps that's what happens when you spend your nine-month pregnancy in the throes of an emotional breakdown about the size of your ass and your spouse spends the nine months trying to reassure you that it's not that big. Seemingly little thought was devoted to poor little Rowan, either pre- or post-partum _ a poor child born to a pair of characters who openly resent her intrusion into their lives.

It came as a surprise to this pair of adult babies, for example, that actual babies don't sleep through the night for quite some time and that they cry. "Why is she being like this?" "What is wrong with her now?" -- that's pretty much all the "fiance" has to say throughout the book. At one point, they refer to the baby's behaviour as "bitchy." They whine and complain constantly to one another about the nerve this infant has in keeping them awake and stopping them from enjoying restaurants. The "fiance" adamantly insists that he doesn't want any more children because of the horrors of raising this baby, who the couple nicknames "The Dictator" because ... the gall of this infant!! ... she expects them to figure out what's bothering her when she cries and the nanny isn't around to clue them in.

Wiped! is fascinating in that it reveals two people who are so astonishingly self-absorbed that they are blithely unaware of how astonishingly self-absorbed they are. But you can't help but feel for the poor child who will grow up one day and read this book. There's very little talk about how much they love her, how much she has brought to their lives, how much she has taught them about themselves, love, patience, commitment and what matters in life. Eckler makes vague proclamations about not being able to imagine life without her daughter, and being happy to forego the fabulous club scene to stay home with baby, but there are far more negatives than positives conveyed about the arrival of little Rowan. One day the poor kid is going to read Wiped!, and that erases any pleasure to be found revelling in the lunacy of the adults in her life.
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Also, thanks to SBS and Russell in the comments for the Quill and Quire info. Here's its review.

And if that's not enough, there's always this.

Those Globe (and ex-Globe) columnists

A reader called my attention to this column by former Globe columnist Hugh Winsor, who compares Mario Dumont to Jean Marie LePen. Now, how many will it take for it for this to constitute a trend?

Mario, Mario, Mario

Three things Tearfree likes about Mario Dumont

1. He speaks his mind
2. He's new and fresh
3. He went out and did it despite all the challenges along the way

Three things Tearfree doesn't like about Mario

1. Sometimes the things he says when he speaks his mind are really dumb
2. He's surrounded himself by certain people who say even dumber things
3. He's a career politician who's never done anything else

In Quebec, the reaction is pretty positive so far. The media gets a kick out of change and whatever else this my be, it is change.

The Globe and Mail, however, is having a bit of a Jan Wong moment, worrying that the vote for Dumont is a vote for intolerance. John Ibbitson has a particularly nasty and wrong column comparing Dumont and the ADQ to Jean Marie LePen and the National Front, which Tearfree has commented on over at the Globe's site. She'll also predict that the Ibbitson column, along with today's lead editorial, are going to cause another flare-up between the Quebec media and "Canada's national newspaper."

A previous post on reasonable accommodation can be found here. And, for the record, Tearfree is proud to admit to being -- in Ibbitson's disparaging words -- "a hijab-hating feminist." Yep, hate the hijab and all it stands for.

Consumer Revolt: The Ban People Blink, Get Weaselly on Definition of "Invisible"

So I sent the makers of Ban "Not-Really-Invisible" deodorant word of the consumer revolt that is brewing here on Reject the Koolaid.

Here is their reply:

Hello Jacy: We were aware of this. Actually all invisible solids are designed to be invisible on the skin so your AP Deo is not noticeable when naked or in sleeveless tops. Some of the ingredients get absorbed into fabric and then a whiteness shows. It helps to use less and to apply the product in the curved part of the underarm where most sleeveless tops do not lay. Non sleeveless is not an issue since this is not visible to anyone and it is easily washed away in the laundry. Often most of it can be brushed away if desired between launderings or dry cleanings.

Now, apart from the inaccurate usage of the word "lay" -- that's LIE, Ban people, LIE -- this response is wholly unacceptable to me. Now the Ban people would have us believe that what they really mean to suggest is that their product is invisible on the skin? Bollocks! Utter bollocks!!!

Consumer Revolt: So-Called Invisible Deodorant Pisses Me Off One Too Many Times

I finally snapped this weekend. I spent about $4 recently on a new Ban deodorant. New and improved, spring fresh fragrance, larger size, gleaming new packaging, and INVISIBLE!! Invisible, my arse! I applied the deodorant, waited about five minutes to get dressed, put on a dark-coloured T-shirt and sure enough, I had chalky white marks all over the shirt.

Just like two-in-one shampoo/conditioners, invisible deodorants do not work. They are bollocks. Which is fine. But why do gazillions of companies claim their product does something that it does not do? I have been through this with just about every invisible solid I have ever tried. I have thrown too many clean shirts in the laundry due to their bogus claims. Finally, I blew a gasket.

For the first time in my life, I lodged a consumer complaint. I went to the website and e-mailed them my story. Bought the product in good faith, yada yada yada. Surprised to see a company like Ban practising false advertising by heralding their product as being invisibe, yada yada yada. Invisible my arse, yada yada yada.

Their reply follows:

-----Original Message-----
From: consumer@kaobrands.com [mailto:consumer@kaobrands.com]
Sent: Monday, March 19, 2007 9:00 AM
To: jacy@hotmail.com
Subject: Re: Kao Brands Company, Reference # 001590320A.

Jacy: Thank you for contacting us about Ban Invisible Solid. In response to your inquiry, if a solid antiperspirant/deodorant is leaving a white residue, this is generally from overuse of the product. Many people feel the need to use numerous swipes in the underarm area, when it reality you only need one or two swipes. Only so much can be absorbed into the skin, the rest would be residual and could wipe off on your clothes. In addition to the above tip, make sure to let the product completely dry before dressing.

Cordially, Kao Brands Consumer Relations Department

My reply back:

I didn't overuse the product and I am mindful of over-using deodorants and don't do it. Can you please let me know how I can get my money back? To reiterate, I find it odd that a company as reputable as Ban would be practising false advertising.

Next thing I know, they are offering me a coupon for various Kao brand products.

So I guess I won. But I don't feel the elation of victory. It burns me that companies continue to make false claims about their products. It's like me going out on a date with falsies on, attracting a boob man, then taking the guy home, removing the falsies and saying: "Oooops! Sorry! Just a B-cup after all!!"

RTK Mailbag

Every now and then, RTK receives great e-mails and comments on posts so old that no one is likely to read them, so today Tearfree will share some of them with you.

On the black turtleneck controversy, commenter Bon Cop Bad Cop opined, "Never been big on turtlenecks, in my opinion the most appropriate places to wear them would be skiing or out in the woods. But that's just me...

On Rebecca Eckler's new book Wiped! an RTK fan, who appears to have read a lot of self-help books wrote. "I hear you when you say writing about Wiped! brings in readers, but that is the very definition of 'codependent.' You have to give this up and move on. It's not healthy to rely on Eckler for readers. Quit, cold turkey. It's the only way to go, just like an alcoholic."

On synchronized swimming, which Tearfree had recommended as a sport and a good alternative to ballet with all its crazed anorexia-encouraging Russian teachers still getting over their issues about not making it to the Bolshoi, anonymous commented:

Synchro swimming is a great way to involve your kids in a sport program, but you may want to think twice before deciding that synchro is safer than ballet or rhythmic gymnastics. Through my own experience i can safely say that synchro coaches can be just as bad as ballet instructors in terms of promoting anorexia as well as pushing young girls to higher levels faster than normal without consideration for their well being within the sport. You should also think about the options if your child get heavily involved with the sport as it can cost up to 6000$ year and it may take away much of your valuable time and resources. After you have made those considerations and decided that synchro is still for you, i highly reccomend it, it has changed my life in such a positive way and ill never forget all the fun i had.

And on the essential qualities of a French film, Ian commented that they must have "no music, endings that aren't endings, obnoxious Americans and they must wreak of sex."

And finally, a few readers want to know who Tearfree plans to vote for in the Quebec election, which will be revealed later this week.

An Interesting Night Involving a Man Named Bruno

Today/tonight I had to spend hours at this big public event while I was having a ferocious, rage-fuelled, profoundly nasty e-mail brawl with my estranged husband. He's got anger issues, as do I right now, and he typed some of the nastiest things he's ever said to me ... or to anyone, I think ... although I take full responsibility for starting it. In the end, we totally made up and were apologetic, kind, sweet and loving to one another. But the point is, for the course of hours, I was at various turns furious, insulted, mortified, weepy, enraged, saddened, touched, angry, sobbing, laughing, homicidal, self-loathing, filled with despair, etc. There was not an emotion I did not experience as I frequently peeked at my Blackberry.

And yet, in the middle of all this, some slightly paunchy, grey-haired guy named Bruno approached me and made polite small talk. I am a friendly, nice person, so I managed to shake off whatever emotion I was experiencing when he first struck up conversation -- most likely it was rage and/or despair -- and chatted breezily with him for awhile.

Next thing I know, he is telling me he has never seen a woman so hauntingly beautiful, told me I reminded him of some lovely literary heroine whose name he couldn't remember, told me I had stunning legs and could he have my number? He'd like to take me out.

It's quite confusing to be told how breathtaking you are when you were literally just in the woman's washroom trying to catch your breath from a furious spurt of bitter sobbing. Depressingly, it's not the first time I have been told by a man that misery becomes me. But in any event, I didn't give Bruno my number but he gave me his. He said he'd like to take me to a play.

Physically, he is not my type. He's the type of aging Italian guy who you can tell was something 20 years ago, but is now sort of treading into Steve Lawrence territory. Yet he was sweet and smart and funny.

Do I go out with him or lose the number?

So sorry

Readers have been writing to express their frustration with RTK's lack of coverage of all sorts of things ranging from the Synchronized Swimming World Championships to the Quebec Elections to Wiped! Life with a Pint-sized Dictator.

Tearfree hopes this photo of Russian Swim champs Anastasia Davydova and Anastasia Ermakova helps make up for her blogging negligence. Guess Anastasia was the popular name in Russia while Ashley was hitting its peak here. But seriously, why do so many synchro girls have the same name? Half the Canadisan synchro team is called Marie Pierre:
And, look, there's even an Anastasia on Canada's junior team:


So in honour of the Russians, RTK and Youtube present:

Jamie Oliver: A Man Who Never Lets Me Down

For Christmas, my recently departed husband showered me with a number of thoughtful and loving gifts, including Jamie Oliver's latest cookbook. Entitled Jamie's Italy, it stemmed from Oliver's trek through all regions of Italy and all the local recipes he picked up on his journey. You may think I am being sarcastic when I say this was a romantic gift, but I am not: nothing gets me hotter than a good cookbook, and of course my husband knew that, which is why he got so much love so frequently during our last-ever holiday together. But I digress ...

Unlike some other men I know, I must say Jamie Oliver has never once let me down. Tonight I made a meal from the Italian cookbook that was utterly fantastic, and the second one from the book to wow me. So far, in fact, Oliver is two for two in Jamie's Italy. Tonight's recipe was a baked mushroom and chicken tetrazzini, based, apparently, on a northern Italian recipe. Last week's was sliced field mushrooms put under the broiler with thyme, buffalo mozzarella, olive oil and salt and pepper, served as a hot and gooey appetizer with some crusty bread. Both recipes were amazingly delicious.

I realize it might appear I am on some kind of 'shroom kick, but that's just a coincidence. And as annoying as I find Oliver at times when I watch his show with all his "easy peasies" and "pukkas"-- lets face it, he's no David Adjey -- I can honestly say I have never cooked a single thing from any of his cookbooks that hasn't been incredible.

If you aren't familiar and don't believe me, try the above recipes just mentioned if you can find online recipes for them yet, and from previous cookbooks, these two: his spinach, feta and pea salad with lemon viniagrette, honestly my favourite salad ever with the fabulous salty-sweet combo of the feta with the peas, and his stuffed baked onions. And pretty much any and all of his pasta dishes. The man's tongue may seem strangely far too big for his mouth, and he may riddle his speech with entirely too many hackneyed Cockney cliches, and he does appear to be getting a bit doughy around the mid-section, and I do so tire of hearing about Jules since she seems utterly put out by his success, but man, can he cook!

Happy St. Paddy's Day

Pour yourself a Guinness and watch a slideshow of Tearfree's favourite Irishman. Delicious.

RTK trend report

Because many readers come to RTK to find out about the latest trends, Tearfree is happy to fill you in on a hot new expression: "Thank pineapple" and "Oh my pineapple."

Tearfree will also let you in on another secret. She had her students in stitches the other day because she referred to Jay-zee as Jay-zed as any good Canadian would.

Ok, that was a gaffe. But there is something to be said for fighting the creeping Americanization of our Canadian English. Bum vs. butt for example. No one used the latter back in Tearfree's gilded youth except for her California girl elementary school friend and now it's butt, butt, butt 24/7 north of the border too. Tearfree also used to say to-mah-to and now she catches herself saying to-may-to quite frequently.

She's also switched from St. Lawrence for the Main to St. Laurent.

The pressures from both sides are simply too much.

Quebec elections

Tearfree is listening to the Quebec election debate on CBC Radio One so that she can deliver a full report later this week and the most interesting thing so far is that Mario Dumont's translator sounds eerily similar to Pierre Trudeau speaking English.

My crazy neighbours: part xviii

Tearfree may have mentioned before that she has various problematic neighbours. Well, since she acquired her dog last August, she has started having serious problems, for the first time in 13 years, with her downstairs neighbour. Oh sure, there's been a hiccup or two here and there but never anything major until now.

Tearfree is convinced that the source of the problem is not really the dog but the fact that the neighbour wants to make modifications to the building, a desire which coincides with the arrival of the dog, and Tearfree's refusal to go along with these modifications has so enraged the neighbour that she is constantly complaining about the dog. Because she can't get her way legally, she's trying to get her way by making Tearfree's life as difficult as possible.

Now, wouldn't you know that since these problems arose, some dog or dogs have taken to pooping on the front walk Tearfree shares with her neighbour -- and yesterday animal poop -- probably from a neighbourhood cat -- appeared on the shared front porch.

Tearfree knows that the finger of suspicion is being pointed unjustly at her pets, whose pooping habits are exemplary as are Tearfree's poop pick-up habits. So she started wondering if it's possible to do a DNA cat and/or dog scat analysis. And, yes, turns out it is. Tearfree doesn't know which is more amazing -- that labs can do this or that she can find out they can do this with a few minutes research on the internet.

We are innocent and the DNA will prove it!

Brave new world

Tearfree often disagrees with the opinion of the New York Times’ “ethicist” Randy Cohen but today’s column really takes the cake.

In answering the question of a gentleman who sits on a college admissions committee and wants to know whether it is okay to google applicants and then quiz them about any arising online misdemeanors, Cohen responds:

You would not read someone’s old-fashioned pen-and-paper diary without consent; you should regard a blog similarly. Your reading this student’s blog is legal — he posted it voluntarily, and in that sense it is public information — but not every young person grasps this. Many unwisely regard their blogs as at least semiprivate. You should not exploit their youthful folly. Indeed, so befogged are students about online postings — especially to FaceBook, MySpace and the like — that universities commonly devote a portion of freshman orientation to wising them up.

I don’t know what planet Cohen is living on but the whole point of teenage blogs is that they are NOT private. These kids want to put themselves out there. Now, you can certainly argue about their grasp of the potential repercussions, but it’s crazy to think that parents don’t warn their kids constantly about the dangers of the internet. Today’s kids know, just as well as we knew not to take candy and lifts from strangers, that you shouldn’t discuss intimate details of your personal life on My Space and Facebook. If you need proof, just go to Youtube and search for Facebook, you’ll find all sorts of satirical skits by kids about Facebook stalkers, etc., etc. They get it, Randy, they get it and there's not much to be done for those who don't.

Does this mean they won’t do dumb things online? No, but then adults do plenty of dumb stuff online too. This is one of the defining characteristics of our brave new online world, that the dumb things we used to do at a dinner party after a little too much wine are now, in many cases, done online where they remain available for sober readers to see long after the dinner party guests have forgotten about them.

And not only that, in this brave new online world there might also be a record not just of your dumb behaviour but others' dumb behaviour toward you, in Tearfree’s case, for example, at ratemyprofessors.com.

While we teachers have been the proverbial canaries in the mineshaft largely due to the power structure of educational institutions, earlier this week the Washington Post reported on a Yale law school graduate who attributed her failure to land a job at a top law firm to the fact that her looks had been extensively discussed in a skuzzy forum for law school students. While it's certainly possible that she wasn't chosen for reasons other than negative googling outcomes, Tearfree has a friend whose appointment to a job was almost torpedoed when a rival contender for the position googled up some dirt and passed it along to HR. Although it was uncomfortable for Tearfree’s friend for a while, in the end, his appointment came through.

All this to say that now, more than ever, we are dependent on people’s abilities to sift through the google-supplied evidence and dirt, and fairly assess others. Alas in her four-plus decades on this earth, one of the big life lessons Tearfree has learned is that a whole lot of people believe what they want to believe and reality does not enter into it. Maher Arar must be guilty because the RCMP wouldn’t have been watching him if he weren't a terorist. And those Lacrosse-playing frat boys, they must have raped that black woman because that’s what rich white boys do. Facts, evidence, why bother? Where there’s smoke there’s fire.

So, what would Tearfree advise the guy who wrote to the ethicist about the would-be college students? The same thing she does with potential hires. Google them and unless she saw something potentially serious, forget about it. These days we almost all have our internet crosses to bear. And as one of my colleagues asked a candidate at the last hiring interview I sat in on, “Did you google me?”

No,” the candidate answered him.

“But I googled (Tearfree).”

So, what do you say about that, ethicist?

Hail to the chief

Chief Supreme Beverley McLachlin gave a speech yesterday about something that's been bothering Tearfree for a while, namely why trials last so long and why there's so much evidence. Whenever Tearfree hears a news report about a gazillion pages of documents being filed as evidence, all she can think is that these legal types really don't know how to prioritize.

How long was Einstein's treatise on relativity? How long are the briefings received daily by world leaders? How long is the average ICU patient's medical chart?

If the rest of the world can get by with one millionth of the pages, what the hell is wrong with all these lawyers and judges?

In Montreal, we witnessed a ridculous legal case against Castor Holdings (Yes, I know the link is old, and, no, I don't know what the results were or if the trial is still dragging on or has been appealed. Maybe a knowledgeable reader will help out.) Four-year-long trials are just craziness. How hard is it to understand that if it takes that long to get a conviction, you haven't made a case?

More to Crocs than meets (or hurts) the eye

If you've been following the Crocs escalator story, you know that RTK is a top site for information seekers:



What might surprise you, however, is just who's interested in Crocs, which are made out of a secret foam invented in Canada with funding from the National Research Council.

Tearfree suspects there may be something very big coing on here because RTK is getting visitors from not just the defense contractor Raytheon, but also from the United States government's Batelle laboratory.




Conspiracy theorists, want to take a crack at it?

Rebecca Eckler gives away copies of Wiped!

RTK is the number one blog on the Internet for news on Rebecca Eckler's Wiped: Life With a Pint-sized Dictator. And you don't have to take Tearfree's word for it either; if you have any doubts at all about there being some photoshopping going on here , just google it yourself.



Given Tearfree's power to make news about subjects ranging from softwood lumber to Crocs sandal hazards and to beat out Amazon and Eckler's own blog when it comes to Wiped!, you would think La Eckler and her publicist would be emergency fedexing RTK one of those review copies they're supposed to be handing out:



But no, nothing in spite of what RTK has already done for the book so earlier today, Tearfree went and asked for her her very own review copy:



Now, Tearfree is waiting to hear back from La Eckler. Perhaps if her agent wants a reference this e-mail form the top shoe blogger ever, The Manolo, will help:

Tearfree is nothing but obliging to those who cooperate with her.



Manolo's also got some good comments on his post, The Deadly Croc.

I Pity Guy Ritchie

Except for the poor husband of a certain Mommy Blogger who Tearfree occasionally discusses, has ever a man been more publicly and humiliatingly emasculated than Guy Ritchie?

This is the filmmaker who produced two great, cutting-edge movies before he met Madonna: Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch.

Since he met Madonna? Swept Away -- possibly one of the worst films of the past 2o years.

Not only that, but he's forced to wear the red bracelet and wander L.A. and London participating in various Kabbalah rituals at the behest of his ball-busting wife, who also apparently bullied him into going along with adopting a child when he wasn't sold on the idea. Here he is above, at a Kabbalah costume party just this week. Does Guy Ritchie strike anyone as the kind of guy who loves a good costume party? I don't even have testicles, and they ached when I saw this photo.

Guy Ritchie really needs to grow his balls back.

RTK readers write

It's never too late to take up synchro swimming.

Leahys comments:

Not true that you can never go back to synchro. There is a collegiate program and a masters program. The masters are awesome. One team last year did a platform lift. No big deal you say? These women were in the 90s age group.

Many women--and MEN--start synchro in their forties or later. Hey, if you can compete till your centenary that means it is never too late to be a star. It's great physical training without injuries.

Yeah, I'm a synchro mom.

Rebecca Eckler's Wiped! hits number one

It's even beating out The Unnatural History of Cypress Parish by Elise Blackwell, which now occupies the number three spot.


Commented well-known book and softwood lumber blogger Tearfree, "Wiped! is cleaning up on the lumber and wood news charts even if visitors to my site are now showing a much greater interest in the latest Crocs accident. If it's not one bloody mess, it's another here at RTK! "

Kool-Aid case closed

In today's Globe and Mail, Tearfree finally learned what was behind the spike in vistors looking for a Kool-Aid killer. It was Jonestown: Paradise Lost, a 100-minute TV docudrama that you can catch on Vision TV on March 13. In the course of her research, Tearfree also learned, courtesy of Wikipedia, that the beverage consumed in Jonestown was actually Flavour Aid, which explains the Globe's oblique reference to fruit punch. As PR debacles go, Kool-Aid's experience certainly trumps the current dilemma of that notorious Canadian invention, the Croc.

Crocs news alert

As a result of this nasty accident in Manila, RTK is getting a huge influx of visitors seeking news about the dangers of wearing Crocs on escalators.

Aside from the health hazards, RTK would like to point out once again the fashion hazards. And even if Canada is partly responsible for inflicting Crocs on the world, the gang at This Hour has 22 Minutes is doing its bit to rectify the situation (hat tip: Manolo's Shoe Blog):



The Manolo also has this to say about "the Crocs." And for RTK's past Crocs reporting, go here.

As scintillating as softwood lumber

Thanks to Tearfree, Lumber and Wood news is featuring Rebecca Eckler's new book, Wiped!: Life with a Pint-size Dictator . How hot is that? We told you that Wiped! was as scintillating as the softwood lumber negotiations and now comes the proof. Better yet, you can go to the page in question and click on vote to make Wiped! the top lumber and wood news story. Let's get out the vote.

Koolaid killer mystery

The plot thickens. Sitemeter shows that something is definitely going on:






Is this the answer or is there something more devious going on? Koolaid experts please weigh in.

I Am Still Hot for Food Network Chef

As mentioned previously, I am hot for that hottie-von-Hottie of Canadian cuisine, David Adjey. Sometimes, in my loneliness, I Google him. Tonight I did so .... and look what I found!!!!

Suddenly the blond culinary Adonis has a Wikipedia entry. Interesting! At this rate, his profile can only grow, and I will face stiff competition from other recently dumped but reasonably attractive women who aren't out in bars or clubs because they have children they love and therefore they stay close to home to be loving mothers and are thusly hooked on Restaurant Makeover and What Not to Wear.

And who, by the way, really appreciate haute cuisine and can cook up a storm themselves and have mastered many Julia Child classics, not to mention Nigel Slater and the French Laundry cookbook recipes, who know their way around a boeuf Bourgignon, who have a Creuset dutch oven, who have killed a live lobster by stabbing it repeatedly for Lobster Diablo, who maintain slender figures and who have been recently told they are, well, hot by former university boyfriends who are sniffing around and who themselves look like Jeff Bridges in his smoking "Jagged Edge" period.

Don't let this one slip away, Adjey!!

Book review of Rebecca Eckler's Wiped

"Eckler's book is as hot a topic as softwood lumber," said the blogger Tearfree. "Recently, I've been getting as many visitors coming to my blog looking for reviews of Wiped as have been coming to find out about the latest softwood lumber problems. It's truly astounding."



"I'd love to critique this book but for some reason my Random House readers haven't sent me a review copy yet. In the mean time, you'll have to make do with this."

The last hipster parent post (for now)

Hummus-defending hipster parents have taken to the blog barricades this week to denounce NYT columnist David Brooks for bashing them in his column last Sunday.

Brooks asked: " Don’t today’s much-discussed hipster parents notice that their claims to rebellious individuality are undercut by the fact that they are fascistically turning their children into miniature reproductions of their hipper-than-thou selves? Don’t they observe that with their inevitable hummus snacks, their pastel-free wardrobes, their unearned sense of superiority and their abusively pretentious children’s names like Anouschka and Elijah, they are displaying a degree of conformity that makes your average suburban cul-de-sac look like Renaissance Florence?"

Apparently they don't at all. In fact as angry hipster parents everywhere respond to Brooks and all the others making fun of them, they tend to bitterly dismiss their critics as either jealous or cranky old guys and gals railing against "kids today." This misses the central point that the critics' target is, in fact, "parents today." The kids are alright, it's their moms and dads that annoy the hell out of Brooks and just about everyone else.

Over at the Girl's Gone Child blog, whose author Brooks labelled a 21st century Erma Bombeck, fans were out in force to defend the blogger, who's managed to convince both herself and her readers that wanting to wear $200 shoes to the playground and write about it, along with tales of kiddie shit, makes her an insightful trendsetter as opposed to a predictable and banal Carrie Bradshaw wannabe. Faithful disciple Aline wrote:

I really cannot understand why people are up in arms against "hipster" parents! I find it fantastic that there is a generation of parents who are interested in their children... The indifferent parents (like the ones that raised me), are just pissed off to see that you can be involved in your child's life without meddling or fucking them up.

Nor was Aline the only one displaying some personal parenting issues of her own along with what Brooks accurately, it would seem, labelled the "unearned sense of superiority." At Mom 101, commenter Kristen of Motherhood Uncensored had an eerily similar vent:

The thing is -- thank god we've evolved. It's amazing some of us are alive thanks to the cryptic parenting methods our own parents used.

We know more and hopefully, our kids are better for it. And I haven't read ONE blog -- particularly one of the "hipster/alterna" set (whoever or whatever that is) that don't represent more than admirable parents.

Lord knows I'd hate to read my mother's blog... if she even had the thought to write about parenting issues that matter.

And chick peas are the bomb-diggity.

Woman on the verge, whose internet handle is probably a whole lot less ironic than she intends (or refers perhaps to her intent to buy a grammar book), chipped in:

Who's business is it what we dress our children in or what kind of "alterna snacks" we feed them. We aren't beating them, are we? We are feeding them and I can say it's much healthier than the shit our parents fed us.
Our children are an extension of ourselves. It only makes sense to me that we raise them with our ideas, not the antiquated ideas of past generations.

Truly the only thing that makes such ahistorical solipcism and wheel reinvention bearable is imagining the trainwrecks those wonky reinvented wheels will cause during the teenage years to come. It's going to be really, really hard not to look away when the mini-mes and their poor deluded hipster parents all crash and burn in one big flaming adolescent derailment.

In the mean time, why not read about some truly hip parents?