I’m updating once a month now?  Who knew?  I guess it’s because all of my non-family insights are related to the many flaws of “Glee” and the bathroom habits of my pets.  And no one wants to hear that business (unless you do, then give me a call, because I have a lot to say about “Glee”).

I just wrote and then deleted a very long post about vulgarity on Top 40 radio that basically made me realize that I’m Tipper Gore.  The gist of it was: Geez, pop stars, learn a second entendre if you think children might be listening.  I think the point/counterpoint with myself about censorship on behalf of my child is going to be one of those things that turns out to be a non-issue once she’s old enough to seek out music and film on her own.  Reading/listening/watching outside of my age group didn’t ruin me or end my childhood too soon, much like how reading below my age group is currently making me a better person (specifically, “The Hunger Games” series and anything by Mo Willems).

At the risk of sounding like E.D. Hirsch, I think it’s important to expose children to the basics of popular culture to lead them to their own tastes in entertainment — Motown, British Invasion-era rock, and ’60s and ’70s music in general.  Black Sabbath on Saturdays while cleaning.  They Might Be Giants to help with school projects.  I had a jokey plan to play only the Rutles around my baby so that when she grows up she’ll find the Beatles really funny.  That plan has been ruined since she happens to hear the Beatles a lot.  She should, though, even if they won’t mean the same thing to her that they meant to me or previous generations.  She doesn’t have to like Oasis or Superchunk.  I would actually prefer it if our kid/future kids aren’t into our music.  I have taken a lot of my parents’ records and CDs and I wouldn’t like for anyone to do that to me.

I’m sure of the thousands of things that I like & her dad likes, she will like a few of them, too.   I look forward to the debut of musicals, favorite movies, and good books in our child’s life.  A lot of my favorite things were also my parents’ favorite things.  I remember my dad’s excitement at having us watch “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” for the first time (I think I was at least 11), and, although it’s probably not how it happened, I remember him waking me up to watch “A Hard Day’s Night” with him when it aired late at night.  My mom’s attempts at getting us to watch “Nature” on Sunday nights were a huge fail, as it played opposite “the Simpsons.”  I have been watching “Nature” specials on Netflix Instant.  She sowed the seeds, at least.  And we got into British period-piece miniseries together.  It goes both ways, too.  When I was older I liked it when my parents liked the things that I introduced to them, though I’m pretty sure my dad never hung up that Robbie Williams poster I bought for him.

Wait, on second thought, I would be heartbroken if my offspring didn’t love “the Simpsons.”