Black Moms in Hollywood: Can You Name One Positive Portrayal?

Be clear: I really do adore Mo’Nique—her humor, her hustle, her demand that we love ourselves exactly the way we are, no matter who stands at the ready to tear us down. And I especially loved her in Precious. Despite that I wrote HERE about my hesitancy to see the movie, I did end up seeing Precious and thought Mo'Nique was scary brilliant as an abusive, mentally-ill, poverty-stricken mom. Transformative. And she deserved that Oscar.

I feel the same way about Sandra Bullock, whom I absolutely adore for being down-to-earth and uber cute. I didn’t see The Blind Side (partly because I’ve grown quite tired of the “white savior” movies that keep creeping onto the movie screen), but I was happy for Bullock’s win nonetheless, if only because I’m a fan of her past work.

But, well, you know there’s a “but” coming. How many more times will Hollywood expect me to plunk down $10 per ticket (plus doggone near another $20 for a bag of popcorn and one of those slushie Coca Cola drinks) to see movies that portray black moms as pathological, drug-addicted, abusive, broke-down, dumb ass, you-ain’t-sh#t-and-ain’t-evah-gone-be-sh#t, baby mamas?

Like seriously:

• Monster’s Ball featured a poverty-stricken, verbally-abusive mom who was so dumb that she didn’t realize the son of a raving racist, who was doing things to make her “feel good,” actually killed her child’s father.

• The Blind Side was about a white southern mom who takes in a black teenage football player who’s never even had his own bed because, well, his mother is a poverty-stricken crack head who can’t keep hold of her kids.

• Precious: Where do I even begin to describe the depraved, inhuman, patently foul infection that was Mary in this movie?

• Daddy’s Little Girls features an abusive, foul-mouthed mother who gives up her daughters to take up residence as the queenpin in her boyfriend’s drug organization, and then lets her new man beat up on her youngest daughter and make a drug dealer out of her oldest child.

See the running theme here? I mean I really had to stop and think hard to come up with a movie featuring a black mom who loves her children AND is raising them up right AND isn’t sucking on the pipe/collecting a welfare check/cussing out the babies/depending on others to step in and save her children, and I was hard-pressed to name one. Like, I seriously couldn’t come up with one.

Help me out, MyBrownBaby family: Am I wrong to be annoyed by the portrayal of black moms in mainstream Hollywood? Should I expect more, or is this it for us? I mean, I respect Precious supporters' arguments that we have to examine the good, the bad, and the ugly that happens in our community, but er, um, where is the good? I mean, can you name ONE movie with a black mom with some sense? (No, Denzel Washington/Will Smith/Morgan Freeman/Laurence Fishburne arm candy does NOT count as a positive portrayal of black moms; I want to know which films actually give an indepth, solid delving into the life of a black woman that does NOT portray her as a foul, drug-addled, somebody-please-save-the-babies-from-that-crazy-ass-monster mom).

Two snaps up and a twist to anyone who can name one…

A MyBrownBaby Weekend: Disney's MULAN at The Alliance Theater

After a particularly boisterous, soccer-filled Saturday, Nick, Mari, Lila, and I made our way into Atlanta last weekend to check out the new stage adaptation of Disney’s Mulan at the Alliance Theater. Mulan, the story of a girl who poses as a man, sneaks into the Chinese Army and saves her country, is a favorite around these parts with my girls—two diehard fans of Chinese culture and traditions and any story that ends with the girl being a hero. It was an easy bet that Mari and Lila would enjoy this show.

For sure, there was a lot to love in this stage production: The “girl power” vibes alone make the price of admission worth it. Mulan is a clumsy, awkward girl who is constantly hounded by her family and the ancestors to embrace Chinese tradition, honor her family, and know her place: A girl’s sole mission in life should be to marry and have kids. But when her disabled father is called to war against The Huns, Mulan kicks tradition to the curb and, with the help of a wisecracking dragon, transforms herself into a man and devises a sneak attack that ultimately defeats the enemy, saves the emperor, and brings great honor to her family.



The grand costumes, towering puppets and lush set were a treat; my girls were particularly impressed by how the director used lights, material and shadows to create an “avalanche” on stage, and they enjoyed singing along with Mulan (Leslie Bellair), who powered through a beautiful rendition of “Reflection.” Of course, Mushu, (Bernard Jones) with his tart tongue and gospel pipes, was quite the hit, too.

I dug the tender moments and lessons that informed the play, particularly the message that while holding fast to traditions is honorable, extending love to others is the ultimate way to honor them. I also appreciated the extremely diverse cast, but would have liked to see at least a few Asians on the stage, considering this play was set in ancient China. I also would have appreciated just a few more specific cultural touches that spanned beyond the broader themes of tradition, honor, and the importance of heroism; with a rapt audience of children, it would have been a win-win to incorporate into the play, say, a bit of the language or a few specific Chinese customs—something the kids could have taken away with them, and, perhaps, could have inspired them to go find out more.

Overall, though, it was a fine evening out for The Chiles family—and I know you and yours would love Mulan, too. The play is being staged at Atlanta’s The Alliance Theater each Saturday and Sunday through March 14. Tickets are $20 and $30, but you can get a 50 PERCENT DISCOUNT (!) off adult tickets by using the promo code DISNEY. Purchase tickets at the Woodruff Arts Center Box Office by calling 404.733.5000 or online HERE, at The Alliance Theater.

Enjoy!

[Photos by Greg Mooney]

Forget New Year's Resolutions—This 106-Year-Old Matriarch Has The Key to an Authentic Life

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions anymore. I mean, in all my years of pledging to get my pre-baby body back /cut back on the pork and chocolate/stop dropping f-bombs/insert-Denene’s-terrible-vices here, I’ve never, ever stuck to the promises I made to myself just before the dawn of the New Year. I don’t know—maybe I’m weak-willed. Or a rebel. Or maybe I realize about a month in that if I do stop dining on swine and Godiva and become the goodie two-shoe church girl my mama raised me to be, I would be a lot less fun and nowhere near as juicy.

I like being fun and juicy.

Still, I do recognize that there’s tremendous value in starting the New Year committed to being a better person. Not necessarily skinnier. Not necessarily perfect. Just better. To myself. To others. Because it feels good and it’s natural and organic—not because I’ve threatened myself into submission. And this year, I’m inspired to walk this path thanks to the book, Aunt Sarah’s Recipes for a Long & Spirit-Filled Life, a beautiful work that chronicles the life and times of Sarah Frances Carter Perry Brown, a 106-year-old matriarch. Penned by writer, life coach and inspirational speaker Caryl Lucas, Aunt Sarah’s great niece, the book documents the pivotal events that helped shape Aunt Sarah’s life over the past century—her deep southern roots, personal struggles, spiritual principles, life lessons, insurmountable faith, and, of course, recipes.

But it’s not her how to’s for cooking up fresh biscuits, peach preserves and chitterlings that got my attention (come on now, don’t front—you can’t just scare up a good chitterlings recipe these days!); what I love most about Aunt Sarah’s book is the recipes she offers up for living a spirit-filled life. All at once sweet, simple, and beautiful, they remind me that being better takes little effort, but leads to rich reward. Witness her recipe for...

“Letting Your Light Shine”

• Do something good for someone else.
• Volunteer at a local school or community-based organization.
• Share your gifts with others.
• Display godly character by walking in love.
• Do not hold grudges.
• Spend valuable time in the word and apply it.
• Put God first in all that you do!
• Remember to smile every now and then and hum, “This Little Light of Mine.”

And I love this one, too...

“Aunt Sarah’s Recipe for Phenomenal Women”

• Love yourself!
• Be harmonious & kind-hearted.
• Know your self-worth is not measured by your wardrobe.
• Embrace your size and body.
• Believe in yourself!

Now these are resolutions I can get behind and co-sign—100 percent. Thank you, Aunt Sarah, for your wisdom and encouraging us all to let our lights shine!



Want some of Aunt Sarah’s inspiration for your very own? CLICK HERE to visit CarylLucas.com, where you can purchase Aunt Sarah’s Recipes For A Long And spirit-Filled Life: Wisdom and Soulful Lessons From a 105-Year-Old Matriarch, and read more about her phenomenal life.

Is "Precious" Realism or Poverty Porn? Help Me Figure Out If I Should Buy A Movie Ticket

I'm feeling some kinda ways about the new movie, Precious, and the jury is still out over whether I want to plunk down my $10.50 to check it out. I mean, I get that the movie, about a Harlem teenager who is physically, mentally, and sexually abused by her parents and ostracized for being obese, has incredible buzz and folks are already whispering that a few of the cast members should get their gowns ready for next year's Oscars. And if Oprah's co-signing it, it has to have some kind of context and deeper meaning, seeing as she was the executive producer of a few flicks I liked that were equally disturbing/revelatory—Beloved, The Wedding, Their Eyes Were Watching God. But the idea of watching a mom try to bash her daughter's brains out with a frying pan, or a father make babies with his child, or an overweight kid suffer seemingly insurmountable nastiness from practically everyone she comes in contact with, doesn't exactly float my boat. From the moment I found out I was pregnant with my first daughter, I couldn't stand to see children suffer—still can't read newspapers stories about it, can't watch it on the news, gotta turn away from it when it shows up on my favorite TV shows. It's a no go.

What's more, I'm having a hard time supporting a flick that shows yet another poor, uneducated, rough-mouthed, hard-living black mom working through her screwed up pathologies. (Actually, usually, black moms aren't shown in movies at all, are they? Mostly as side-kicks who play the back while their super husbands save the world/have an affair/do something deep/find their way back home. But I digress.) I'm just afraid that folks with take the snapshot the film gives of a certain segment of the African American community and make it the sole picture of black motherhood. We all know better. Unfortunately, though, not enough folks—of all races, sadly, even our own—know this picture isn't in all of our albums.

Anyhoo, seems like somebody—or a whole lot of somebodies—were willing to see it; Precious made close to $2 million this weekend, even though it was shown in only 18 theaters nationwide. That's considered an impressive showing for an independent film that got hardly any theater play. And I have to admit that I'm curious to see Mo'Nique completely flip the script in her role as Precious's abusive mom, a role the late-night talk show host told me was a difficult but rewarding star turn for her movie career (I interviewed her for a story that ended up on the cover of Uptown magazine, see up top).

I don't know—help me out, sweeties: Have any of you seen it? If you haven't, do you plan to? Holla back!

AND, if you so please, come on back tomorrow to check out a new Home Made Love recipe written by my sweetie pie, Mari. She's going to hip you to her favorite dessert. Please, please, please show my baby some comment love!

In the meantime, for those of you who haven't seen previews for Precious, check out this one...

You Know You Want This: Vintage Body Spa Giveaway

You have to understand: My people had me in the woods from a Friday to a Sunday, roughing it at a beautiful but dusty campsite where the bathroom was full of bugs and the public shower wasn’t an option. Let’s just say that by the time I dragged myself back to the house from our first big family camping trip, I was in serious need of some pampering.

And, as if the pampering gods heard my cry, a package full of organic, handmade products from Vintage Body Spa was waiting on my doorstep when I got home. Vintage Body Spa owner and product mixologist Alyssa Middleton sent the products to me, Christie of My Life, A Work In Progress, Lorraine of Ask Wifey, and Jennifer of The Baby Makin(g) Machine to try out before and during The BlogRollers BlogHer or Bust Road Trip we took late last month, sweet, generous soul that she is. And I made quick work of putting what was in that box to some good use.

In my box was a cornucopia of scrumptious scrubs, facial masks, and lotions that brought your girl back from the camping dead. The Citrus Blast Whipped Sugar Scrub was absolutely divine—the citrus scent provided the perfect pick-me-up for my tired body, and managed to moisturize and exfoliate without leaving that annoying oily residue all over my body and my shower tiles (score!). The Rhasoul Clay, a centuries old natural clay harvested from the Atlas Mountains in Morocco, was absolutely decadent as a facial mask—a much-needed elixir for my seriously stressed out face. And you know the Shea Butter Lotion handled the ash, sans the greasy, slick feeling Shea Butter tends to leave when it’s in its natural state.

In no time at all, it was bye-bye camping funk—hello, scrubbed, rubbed, shined-up and smelling right me!



I know what you’re thinking—you want some, don’t you? Don’t you?! Well, I just happen to have a really nice Vintage Body Spa “Spa to You” Gift Set for a lucky reader. The set includes full-size samples of the following:

Butter Beans (moisturizing bath fizzies)
Suga Lips Lip Balm
Wherever Body Cream (rich body lotion)
Whipped Shea Butter
A few extra goodies from The BlogRollers

All you have to do is leave me a comment... yep that's it. I will give you an extra entry if you friend Vintage Body Spa on Facebook and/or follow her on Twitter. Don't forget to come back here and let me know you did it...m'kay?

The winner will be announced on The ChatterBox Show on FRIDAY AUGUST 7th at 10:00 AM EST. Be sure to tune in!

MyBrownBaby Spotlight: Esperanza Spalding

You never know where inspiration comes from—I realized I wanted to be a journalist when I saw NBC New York’s Sue Simmons interviewing New Edition. My sister-in-law Angelou was inspired to become an environmentalist while summering on her family’s 58-acre farm, not far from the Canadian border. My little girl, Mari, really digs marching bands, and was inspired to ask for trumpet lessons for her birthday so she can be in one.



Inspiration, you see, breathes life into dreams, and dreams breathe life into us. And sometimes, life is transformed and transforming because of it.

It was an episode of Mister Rodger’s Neighborhood, featuring the classical cellist Yo-Yo Ma that inspired and transformed my latest obsession, Esperanza Spalding. The critically acclaimed jazz bassist, who is transforming one of America’s greatest art forms, taught herself how to play the violin at the tender age of five because of that episode. And now, at just age 23, Spalding is a bright and shining star in the jazz pantheon, bringing her eclectic, graceful, funk-filled stylings and that angelic voice to stages all across the world—and inspiring my girls to follow their passions.

I stumbled across her music on iTunes (where I tend to look for bright new artists and listen-worthy music because Heaven knows I can’t count on black radio to help a sistah out), and I simply cannot stop playing her latest offering, Esperanza. The girls and I absolutely adore her young, hip, Afro-Brazilian update on the Milton Nascimento classic Ponta de Areia and the jazz standard, "Body and Soul," and her “I Know You Know,” and “Precious” make us stop what we’re doing and dance. We just dance and dance. And marvel at how someone so young could do something so incredibly original and fresh and incredibly cool—play the bass and sing and compose and lead her own band and teach at Berklee.

Esperanza, in essence, inspires.

On her website, EsperanzaSpalding.com, the artist acknowledges her gift, and gives humble thanks:

“I think there are some outside forces that have blessed me with creative talents, and I don’t want to disrespect whatever plan the cosmos or the heavens or God or whoever might have fore me, she explains. But based on what I know about myself right now, what I really want to do is reach people. I want to make great music, but I also want to use that talent to life people up, and maybe show them some degree of hope where there might not be any in their lives. My name means ‘hope’ in Spanish, and it’s a name I want to live up to.”

She most certainly does. Take a listen, and hear it for yourself. I’ve included two videos here—one of her performing Stevie Wonder’s “Overjoyed” in the East Room of the White House at Michelle Obama’s jazz concert, the other of her performing our favorite, Ponta de Areia, because, doggonit, you just need to hear it.

If you have the time, check out her website; if you have the $10, cop the album—it’s worth every penny, and I promise you, you’ll be inspired to let the babies listen in.

Enjoy!






Photo credit for Esperanza Spalding portrait: Johann Sauty
Photo credit for Mari, a.k.a. Lil' Louis, on the horn: Proud mama, Denene Millner

Stick To It: Lessons On How To Keep Breastfeeding, Despite The Odds

By ELITA KALMA

When my son was born, I was told he needed formula because he had low blood sugar and jaundice, and for five hours, he was stuffed with the artificial milk, despite my pleas that he be brought to me so that I could nurse him. I was the one with the good stuff—colostrum, that early sugar milk brimming with antibodies. But I was scared for the welfare of my son, and too exhausted to fight the power. And by the time my baby finally was brought to me, my nurse, a sistah, was, let’s say, less than encouraging. She took one look at my breasts and declared, “You have terrible nipples—you’ll never be able to nurse!” Then she roughly shoved my boob into my baby’s mouth.

That was the beginning of my breastfeeding journey.

On my way out the hospital door, a nurse practically forced a diaper bag full of formula on me, insisting that my son would need it if he got hungry—as if my always available, always sterile, always-full-of-just-enough milk breasts just wouldn’t do. My discharge papers revealed that my son had been supplemented with formula every time he left my sight!

Lucky for us, this early introduction of artificial nipples and formula didn’t ruin our breastfeeding relationship; my son has been breastfeeding for 16 months now, with no signs of letting up. But there are plenty of moms and babies who aren’t as fortunate. Although our breastfeeding initiation rate is currently at an all-time high (about 60% of black moms are nursing when they leave the hospital), only a paltry 30% are still nursing at six months and only about 12% at one year. Our society has set moms up for failure, often starting from day one. If the nurses aren’t shoving a bottle full of formula down your baby’s throat, we’re often forced to run a gauntlet of well-meaning friends and family who don't know much about nursing and offer bad—and often discouraging—advice.

And don’t get me started on nursing in public! It's as if people expect a breastfeeding mother to never leave the house! Women are so scared of other people's reactions that they hide in bathrooms or their cars or give the baby a bottle to avoid breastfeeding in a public place. You have the legal right to breastfeed your baby in public but sometimes you wouldn't know it! I have nursed my son everywhere: Target, restaurants, my in-laws’ home, the mall. I will whip out a boob to feed my child whenever and wherever necessary. Some people won’t like it and you may get looks or worse. I was asked to cover up in a hotel lobby by a teacher chaperoning a high school field trip. I pretty much had to tell her where to go and how to get there!



I say all of this not to discourage you from nursing, but to encourage you to work through the obstacles because it is so worth it. Breast milk is a living, changing organism designed expressly for your baby. The bond you create with your child when you nurse him is unmatched. There are a million reasons to breastfeed, and for black babies especially, breast milk saves lives. Did you know that 8,000 black babies die before their first birthday in this country—triple the rate of white babies. Did you know that diseases and ailments that plague the black community, like breast cancer, ovarian cancer, diabetes, and obesity, are prevented or lessened if you breastfeed and were breastfed?

I know that it is more difficult for black women to breastfeed. Often we don’t have the jobs with the flexibility needed to continue breastfeeding. Our partners aren’t supportive. Our families think of breastfeeding as something weird that only white women do. Our bodies have been so hypersexualized in music and the media that we think our breasts can only serve one purpose. It's a disgrace that if you want to breastfeed it takes a mix of good luck and tenacity. If we, as a nation, a world, a community, want women to breastfeed, want our babies to be healthier, then we have to truly start supporting them. That means fewer unnecessary medical interventions during childbirth, longer and paid parental leave, on-site daycare, laws requiring employers to give women breaks for pumping/nursing, and normalization and acceptance of breastfeeding in public.
Then, and only then, will we see women doing what the American Academy of Pediatrics and World Health Organization recommend: exclusive breastfeeding for the first six months, and nursing until age 1 and beyond.

So if you are pregnant, take the time to learn as much as you can about breastfeeding. Read Kathi Barber’s The Black Woman’s Guide to Breastfeeding. Create a birth plan before you go to the hospital, spelling out your wishes for both labor AND breastfeeding. Talk to your friends who have nursed and ask for advice. Call the African-American Breastfeeding Alliance or your hospital’s lactation “warm line” at the first sign of difficulty. Bookmark http://www.KellyMom.com.

And of course, you can always contact me. I think I’ve become a bit of a pro! Breastfeeding is seriously one of the most amazing things I've ever done in my entire life. Snuggling my son close while he stares at me with those big brown eyes?

There is nothing better.

About our MyBrownBaby contributor: Elita Kalma is a librarian and the mother to 16-month-old Miles, who is still nursing. She blogs about breastfeeding at The Blacktating Blog and can be found on Twitter @blacktating.

If you would like to be a MyBrownBaby contributor, email your essays/ideas to Denene at denenemillner at gmail dot com.

A MyBrownBaby Weekend: Jill Scott and Idris Elba On HBO--Get Into It

Reason #2080 why I love me some HBO: On Sunday, the cable station that kept me mesmerized with The Wire, The Sopranos, Entourage, and Sex In The City, is debuting its latest series, The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency. Based on the best-selling novels by Alexander McCall Smith, the series chronicles the adventures of Precious Ramotswe, an African private eye who helps her fellow townspeople solve mysteries. Jill Scott, who's expecting her first brown baby, stars. Dreamgirls' Anika Noni Rose is Scott's sidekick. Idris Elba is in the first two-hour episode. It's filmed in its entirety in Botswana. And reviews of the series have been kinda the fire.

From Entertainment Weekly reviewer Ken Tucker:

The American singer [Jill] Scott plays Precious Ramotswe, who, having split from an abusive husband, decides to open up a one-woman detective agency in the small, dusty neighborhood of Gaborone. She doesn't earn much money, but then, neither does anyone around her, and that doesn't stop them from having problems (infidelity, fraud) that need solving. She's not just a businesswoman, she says, she's there to help ''the lost and the frightened.''
 Precious hires a new assistant, Mma Makutsi (Dreamgirls' Anika Noni Rose, all bespectacled eyes and brainy forehead), who blinks back 
incredulity when presented with a manual typewriter whose keys don't all work properly.

In the series' two-hour pilot, directed by The English Patient's Anthony Minghella (his last project before his March 2008 death), Precious applies common sense and a 
Sherlock Holmes-y gift of observation about both telltale clues and human nature. Scott speaks in an English without contractions; 
it gives even her simplest sentences — ''I will give you a try,'' or ''I sincerely agree with that'' — the quiet force of wisdom.

Minghella's direction sets the tone for the series, placing Scott's boldly colored dresses against warm green walls and sand-brown buildings. Scott provides big love, but Big Love this ain't: For a show set in a bustling little city, the pace is so leisurely that the low-key adventures of Precious risk becoming merely precious. (It's a bit jarring when 
The Wire's Idris Elba — Stringer Bell! — shows up as a glowering crime boss.) Ultimately, however, the charm is disarming; No. 1 Ladies is overseen by exec producer Richard Curtis, who specializes in jaunty fare such as Love 
 Actually and Four Weddings and a Funeral. I'll be interested to see whether the gentle, genial No. 1 Ladies can carve out a regular Sunday-night audience amid amazing races, 
cold cases, and desperate housewives.

Um, I'm sold. And that's not just because Tucker's review is convincing; HBO has a long history of making some pretty solid, diverse must-see programming—from the cable adaptation of Terry McMillan's Disappearing Acts, to The Wire (ha' mercy, Idris Elba, dammit!) to Spike Lee's brilliant and elegant "When The Levees Broke," HBO has shown it's dedicated to bringing quality stories about, for, and by folks of color to the masses. Which says a lot in a day and age where it seems we're more likely to elect another black president before we get another quality black flick on the big screen, or a worth-the-half-hour show on prime time TV. Hell, it's still up in the air whether the last of the good black TV shows, Everybody Hates Chris, will be renewed. What's that all about? What, pray tell, will my brown babies watch if the only prime time show I feel okay letting them watch, besides America's Next Top Model, gets taken off the air? I mean, around these parts, we're still devastated from the canceling of The Bernie Mac Show—clinging to reruns and whatnot, wishing somebody would give Mac (RIP) some credit for hooking up funny, down-to-earth, loving, spot-on family fare.

Of course, the best way to send a message to networks that they should care about quality programming for and about and by black folks is to show them that, well, we care about quality programming for black folks. And we do that by tuning in. So come Sunday, March 29 at 8 p.m., I'll be making a statement to HBO—saying "thank you for caring"—by watching my girl Jill and my boy Idris (!) make it do what it do on The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency.

MyBrownBabyReview: "Coraline." Plus, A "Coraline" Book Giveaway!

So it’s rare that Nick and I get to the theater to see a grown-up movie—we’re usually stuck in the Saturday matinees, chewing on greasy, under salted, over-priced popcorn, suffering (or sleeping) through some god-awful kid film, each one cheesier than the last. Once in a while, though, one of the kid flicks makes us feel like the $30-plus (!) price tag makes breaking the entertainment bank well worth it.

The movie “Coraline” is well worth the price of admission—and then some.

The premise: Coraline, a smark, quirky, gloomy child, moves with her parents into a sprawling, creaky old mansion at the top of an always-rainy, forever gloomy mountain, where the insufferable tween is constantly being shushed/blown-off/asked for “just one more minute” by her writer parents. There’s never any food in the refrigerator, her parents would much rather tickle their computer keys than show their daughter the attention she craves, and the cast of nutty neighbors who live around her—including two washed-up starlets, an aged circus performer, and a cornball of a boy with a mangy black cat—are much too weird for words. When Coraline is shooed off by her dad to “explore” their new house, she discovers a creaky little child-sized door that opens up into a tunnel leading to a parallel world where everyone, especially her button-eyed “Other Mother,” spoil her beyond compare.

But everything’s not what it seems in Coraline’s “other” house; she slowly discovers that the fanciful, colorful gardens, delicious food, animated toys, and two especially her uber attentive set of “other” parents and friends are part of a make-believe world that ultimately reveals itself much more dark and sinister than her real inattentive parents and gloomy, seemingly loveless home.

“Coraline” is deliciously creepy—full of wonder and darkness and spunk and hair-raising moments that might scare the wee bits just a wee bit. They’ll be too amazed by the 3 D stop-motion animation, though, to do the full-blown “Mommy, I’m scared!” freak-out, though; the special effects are simply incredible—designed not so much for flying objects to lurch at you as much as they it is to make you feel like you’re standing in the room, peeking around the corner at the action. The colors, the movements, the action, and especially the 3-D animation is simply breathtaking—unlike anything we’d ever seen.

You absolutely must, must, must take the kids to see this one in the movie theater, where they can experience the beauty of “Coraline” on the big screen—while I’m sure the DVD will be perfectly fine, it simply will not do the artistry of this movie justice. Trust me on this: Your kids will think it’s wonderfully, weirdly fantastic, and so will you.

And once your kids are thoroughly hooked, lead them to the children’s novel by the same name—the best-selling “Coraline,” by acclaimed fantasy author Neil Gaiman. In fact, you might want to leave a comment below for your chance to win a FREE copy of “Coraline” the novel.

I’ve got four copies.

Want one?



It’s easy to win: Simply leave a comment below by 11:59 p.m. EST on Sunday, February 15, 2009, telling me what you’d be most happy to find in your “Other” life.

Want to boost your chances of winning? Do one or all of the following:

Do what the cool people do and follow MyBrownBaby. Just click on the "Follow This Blog" link on the right hand side of this page, and you're in. Be sure to leave a comment letting me know you've done so.

If you haven’t already, sign up for MyBrownBaby’s email updates by 11:59 p.m. EST on Sunday, February 15, 2009. To be eligible, you must verify your email subscription when Feedburner sends you a verification email. Your entry will be invalid if you do not verify. If you would prefer to get MyBrownBaby updates via an MBB RSS feed, please leave a comment letting me know you’ve done so, and include an email address, as RSS subscribers are anonymous.

Rate MyBrownBaby and leave a comment on Top Sista Sites. After you do this, come back to MyBrownBaby to leave a comment to let me know you’ve done so.

See? That means each of you can receive up to 4 entries. A winner will be chosen via Random.org, and contacted via email. This contest is available to U.S. mailing addresses only.

ALSO, DON’T FORGET TO TRY YOUR HAND AT WINNING A $50 Home Depot Gift Card. CLICK HERE TO PARTICIPATE.