#SuperFudge

[disneytva]

Meredith Roberts Reflects On What To Expect From Disney Television Animation After 40th Years And 100 Shows.

Kicking off a panel called “40 Years of Disney Television Animation: Past, Present and Future” at Annecy Festival, Disney Television Animation’s Executive Vice President and CEO, Meredith Roberts, made several big announcements on the panel she mentioned what to expect from the studio on the future.

The landscape of TV is changing, whether it's live-action or animated, but Meredith Roberts gave a positive outlook on what fans can expect from Disney Television Animation’s future.

"The division is boldly entering new territory, with projects in development in genres that Disney Television Animation has yet to explore"

"The rise of streaming has shifted the focus of our projects to content focused less on kids and more on co-viewing between kids and parents" aka Young Adult animation

She also hinted that future strategies will try to meet kids where they’re consuming content, which includes gaming and web-based content.

"Things have certainly come a long way since Adventures of the Gummi Bears, but with new content from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Prep & Landing, Phineas and Ferb, and The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder, it’s an exciting time to be a Disney Television Animation fan."

[icecrematorium]

I liked Superfudge better.

[josephconrads]

Title: Superfudge

Author: Judy Blume

Rating: 3 out of 5

Review: I know that I have read this as a kid, mainly because I've read all the Fudge books as a kid, but wow did I not remember a thing. Granted it's been about sixteen years so that's not a surprise. It's a fun read and honestly I can see why I loved it so much as a kid having been in the same situation. Moving away from friends is hard, starting a new school is hard, and having a book about those topics that features characters who are always seemingly relatable no matter how many years since publication, it helps a lot.

[slickcatbooks]

Who doesn’t love Judy Blume? This well loved collection has some of her best stories! #slickcatbooks #greatbooksgreatmemories #judyblume #areyoutheregoditsmemargaret #blubber #otherwiseknownassheilathegreat #superfudge #judyblumebooks https://www.instagram.com/p/CmGzg0Uucfj/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[msponies]

two-headed ponysona concept and her very tentative color palette.bmp

both heads use she/her and he/him (and can also be referred to as a collective “they”; using a single pronoun to refer to both would also be right 🎉). even though there’s distinct personalities between frank and beans i’d like to think they’re still close enough to take turns saying parts of one sentence back and forth like umm omg flora and fauna from superfudge

[this-is-a-love-story-isnt-it]

From the ages of about 10-14, I used to read so many books. And I would read the same ones over and over again, like the Ramona Quimby books, Superfudge, Babysitter’s Club, Judy Blume books, The Chronicles of Narnia…

I wish I was still that interested in reading. I don’t really read regularly at all and I feel kind of stupid about it lmao.

I actually don’t remember reading much at all in high school aside from the books that were assigned for class. I did a lot of extracurriculars in high school like band, chorus, and the school musicals, so that took up a lot of after school time. Plus I spent a lot of free time on the internet and listening to music when I was that age.

But at some point when I was in my 20s I started to read a lot again.

A few months ago I started re-reading Tender Is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald for the first time in 20-ish years, but I got like 20 pages in and haven’t picked it up again, even though I was really enjoying it. I’ve also been meaning to re-read the Chronicles of Narnia for ages but I haven’t done it yet.

I should be spending less time bingeing TV shows and watching random crap on Youtube, and more time reading.

[catharticscream]

New York super fudge chunk is a good Ben and Jerry's flavor and superchunk is a good band and superfudge is a good Judy Blume novel. The world is full of these beautiful connections.

[theletterunread]

Sam’s Dad

The idea must have come from the internet. Or TV. There was no real-life inspiration I could see. Nobody else in his school had had such a birthday party, and besides, Sam brought it up at bedtime, the time of night at which his day at school is always most obliviated. I should have asked who put it in his head, but the request left me too unmoored to talk, and his mother’s reaction set us on a different path.

“I want to invite everyone to the party.”

“Everyone?” said Anita. “In the world?”

“No!” said Sam, laughing and thrashing around under his blankets. “Everyone in class.”

“Oh! Okay. How many kids are in your class?”

“12 girls and 11 boys.”

“Including you?”

“Yeah.”

“Which makes…?”

Sam scrunched his eyes, but this was just for dramatic effect. He knew the answer. “23!” he yelled, kicking his legs hard enough to untuck the sheets.

“Okay, okay,” said Anita. “Calm down, crazy boy. We can do that.”

“Well, hold on,” I said, tucking in the sheets. Having some business to do with my hands helped disguise the nervousness in my voice. “23 is a lot of people. When they’re all here, you might realize you really only wanted your friends.”

“Everyone’s a friend in Ms. Bretillo’s class,” replied Sam.

That sounded like it came from a banner that was hanging over his classroom’s door – the kind of relentless messaging that you’re powerless not to absorb – but I didn’t say so. Instead, I asked, “Are you doing this because you think you’ll get more presents?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“It’s too mean when some people don’t get invitations.”

Anita gave Sam a squeeze and a kiss for this, and I felt the situation slipping out of my control. “Well, your mom and I will talk about it…”

“Oh, relax,” said Anita. “We can handle it. We’re not planning a wedding. It’s an eighth birthday.”

“But that’s a lot of kids to schedule, a lot of food to prepare.”

“They’re just gonna run around the yard for an afternoon. We’ll tell the parents not to expect any meal, and everyone will get a little piece of cake.”

Anita cinched the blankets tighter around Sam, kissed him again, and left. I wasn’t ready to end the discussion, but no more arguments came to mind. When I bent down to give Sam a kiss, I noticed, for the first time, that my heart was pounding.

I hoped that the notion would be forgotten overnight, like so many childish passions are, but it continued to be talked about. By the weekend, Anita had dug out the school directory and was using it to prepare 22 invitations. Sam wanted to write an individual message to each kid, but Anita had convinced him, in the interest of saving time, to settle for a form message with his wet-ink signature at the bottom of each.

Sam’s signatures (printed, not in cursive) always started flat, but bent upwards by the end of the M. And he’d got the idea in his head that all letters needed serifs (I was there when it happened: he was observing the font in his Superfudge book), so he spent a while adding tails all over each signature, which slowed down considerably the assembly line of printing, folding, and stuffing invitations into envelopes. This was a habit that manifested often in Sam’s behavior – hyper-focusing on details while ignoring the big picture.

I noticed it whenever he was trying to recount some scene or joke from a movie or TV show or video game. Rather than just getting to the point, Sam would feel the need to lay out every bit of irrelevant context or backstory. So when he finally reached his point, his audience was totally lost and often annoyed. I hasten to say that I was never annoyed by Sam. But he had habits that those who didn’t love him unconditionally could reasonably find tedious. I’m thinking of the way he’d bounce up and down and cheer at the slightest good turn of fortune (an offer of a snack of animal crackers, the television airing a regularly scheduled broadcast of his favorite show), and of his emotional nakedness, which kids find just as uncomfortable as adults.

These were behaviors I remember seeing in unpopular kids when I was in school. Not that I was Mr. Magnetism, but I was accepted by the crowd, and I had specific friends beyond that. I hadn’t seen that in Sam. He wasn’t being shut out of any group, but he was only a participant as a generic part of a group, if that makes sense. He could be swept up into any activity that involved a lot of kids, but when individual selections were made, Sam was never a top choice. Even when he did wind up in a one-on-one dynamic (a sleepover, playing some invented game on the jungle gym), it never grew into a lasting friendship. My son was always just a seat-filler.

Some days after the invitations were handed out, I was waiting with a dozen other parents at the border of the schoolyard. The bell was still a few minutes from releasing the students. I always tried to arrive for pickup as close to Sam’s emergence as I could, so I wouldn’t wind up in conversation with the other parents. But the stoplights were all green that day, so I was early, and wound up talking with Aldin, as bad a turn of fortune as there could be.

Aldin was the father of Richie, who, since kindergarten, had been in the same subdivision of each grade as Sam. This meant Aldin and I were often proximate at recitals and art shows and parent-teacher nights. He was a repellant pest who thought it was funny to whisper putdowns about the kids (his, mine, and the rest), holding, say, their efforts at clay sculptures to the standards of Rodin, or nudging me knowingly every time somebody dropped a line in The Wizard of Oz. He was afraid that the children’s failures (and I say “failures” only to accept Aldin’s premise) were somehow going to reflect poorly on him. His ego was bound up in his kid’s success, and it was astounding that he couldn’t see that.

To my horror, he began by bringing up the party invitation. I was certain he was going to make some crack about Sam’s handwriting, but instead, he just asked, “Who’s coming to this shindig?”

“Who’s coming?” I replied. “Or who’s invited?”

“Whichever. Give me the answer that sounds better.”

“Everyone was invited, but I’m not sure how many––”

“Oh, you’re afraid it’s gonna be some no-show event?” I didn’t answer this out loud, but it must have been written on my face, because he went on. “I mean, I get it, you don’t want it to be some traumatic disaster. But don’t sweat it. Kids are gonna go to a party.”

“We’ll see,” I said, hoping to sound airy. But it came out doom-stricken, and Aldin recognized that.

“Hey.” He actually put his hand on my shoulder. “Richie will be there. I’ll get him hyped for it. He’ll spread that to the other kids. And I’ll talk to the other parents too. You’ll have a crowd.”

I felt this deserved thanks, but offering that to Aldin would have been an admission of feelings I didn’t wish to share with him. So I vamped by clearly my throat and pretending to be lost in thought until our kids came out of the building and I could leave.

Nobody arrived early for the party, but I was the only one to see this for the red alert it was. Sam and Anita merely spent the last half hour before 2pm stacking and restacking the board game boxes that had been hauled out of the closet. Though the bulk of the action was expected to take place in the backyard, where we’d strewn every ball and paddle and frisbee and water gun we had, Sam wanted there to be an option for “the quiet kids,” as he dubbed them. So while he and his mother tried to find the most appealing arrangement of boxes, I silently calculated how small a party would have to be to foreclose the possibility of even a single guest messing up the time and arriving early.

When 2 o’clock rolled around and there was still nobody there, Anita distracted herself by bringing out the food that she’d intended to save for midway through the party. There were cheese puffs and blue corn chips as well as a touchingly naïve platter of celery sticks and baby carrots. It may have been nothing more than my literally hypersensitive mood, but the crunch of her bitten vegetables echoed loudly though the house. I stayed away from the food myself, though eating would have been at least some kind of distraction. I was afraid I might throw a plate across the room.

After an hour of waiting, Anita spent 20 minutes out in the yard alone, with her face turned up to the sky. She was ready to claim, if asked, that she was checking the weather, wondering if some threatening clouds had blown in that might be discouraging guests. But it was uninterruptedly sunny out, and anyone could see that, even from indoors. She didn’t want Sam to see her tears, whereas I was reaching the stage of fury where I began to think that it was better shared, that Sam and Anita would be better off raging at the absent guests rather than letting the pervading mood mutate into unhappy self-reflection.

In the first hour-and-a-half of waiting, I only saw Sam look at the clock once. He kept his head down, working on a Lego set that had been gifted by his grandparents. Not building it – he could have finished that in 15 minutes – but doing everything else: sorting the pieces by size or by color, stacking every piece into one tower, pouring the pieces into or out of the box. When the tension of waiting for him to say something became too great, I walked to the other side of the room, where I could better see his face. His expression was unbothered – he appeared transfixed by his building blocks.

The silence got to Anita as well, and she eventually blurted out, “I don’t know where everyone is.”

Without looking up, Sam said, “We’ll see.” Though I heard him perfectly clearly, I asked him to repeat himself. He did, but his tone was no less opaque the second time.

At five, when Anita decided there was no point in not carving up the cake, she took Sam into the kitchen and I went to the car with the school directory in hand. I backed out of the driveway without looking and drove fast through the neighborhood. I thought of kids playing carelessly on the streets and didn’t slow down.

Aldin and his family lived on Larkspur Court, nowhere I’d ever been, but I deduced it was in the neighborhood by the reservoir, with the other flower-named streets. The trip there wasn’t long, yet still by the time I pulled into his driveway, I had worked out my entire speech: everything I would said when Aldin opened the door, and alternate responses to every pathetic defense he might offer. Normally, rage clouded my thinking, but this time, it was some kind of muse. I even had ideas for how to deflect his wife, if he tried to hide behind her.

What I wasn’t prepared for was his son Richie opening the door. Still, I only hesitated for a moment before barging into the house, ready to launch into my script. “Where’s your dad?” I asked.

“He’s not here,” said Richie.

“Then where’s your mom?”

“I don’t know.”

He hadn’t reacted at all to my angry knocking or to the way I stomped across the threshold as soon as the door had opened. He was either precociously unintimidated by grown-ups, or just too dumb to pick up on my violent energy. “Look, I’m not a burglar,” I said, though he didn’t seem to need the reassurance. “I’m just looking for your parents. I’m Sam’s dad.”

“Oh,” said Richie. “They’re not here.”

I looked around the house. It was nice, but only in the way a staged home is nice. Nothing seemed lived-in. From where I stood, I could see into a den without a single depression in any of the couch cushions.

“You don’t know where your parents are?” I said. “When did they leave?”

“They were gone when I woke up.”

“Did you call the police?”

“I don’t have a phone.” This was bizarre, but I looked around the place and saw no landline. And I trusted that he knew the facts of the house better than I did. “It’s okay, though,” he went on. “They leave me alone a lot. And I’m allowed to make my own dinner. I can make you an egg.”

His hands were grimy and gunky, but that didn’t seem to be appropriate grounds to turn down that offer in this context, so I let Richie lead me into the kitchen. He took an egg carton out of the refrigerator, then went rooting through the cabinets for cookware. I remembered a morning when I asked Sam what he wanted for breakfast. He didn’t have a preference, and when I offered to cook him an egg, he shouted “Yeah!” and bounced around so excitedly that he hit his head on a kitchen cabinet door.

“It’s Sam’s birthday party today,” I said. When Richie’s only response was another “Oh,” I felt disappointed, but wasn’t sure why. Then I realized: I wanted him to give me permission to leave.

What Richie pulled out of the cabinet wasn’t a pot or a pan, but a cheap contraption I’d seen advertised on TV: the Egg Wave. He cracked an egg (deftly, for a little kid) into a plastic cup, sealed it, and placed it into the microwave. As he punched in the cook time, I could already feel the vomit rising in my throat. Not just for the disgusting meal that awaited me, but for the shame that came from recognizing that only the world’s worst father would find himself here.

[vtgbooks]

judy blume superfudge

[littlegirlsclothing]

Summer is the perfect time to relax, unwind, and get lost in the magical world of books. Whether your daughter is an avid reader or just discovering the joy of getting lost in a story, this ultimate summer reading list for girls has something for every young reader. From tales of bravery and friendship to magical adventures and heartwarming stories, these books are sure to spark imagination and keep her entertained all summer long.

"Matilda" by Roald Dahl Follow the extraordinary journey of Matilda, a young girl with a love for books and a remarkable gift. With her wit and intelligence, Matilda discovers her own inner strength and proves that anything is possible.

"Anne of Green Gables" by L.M. Montgomery Join Anne Shirley as she navigates the ups and downs of life in the charming town of Avonlea. With her vivid imagination and infectious spirit, Anne teaches us the power of optimism and the importance of friendship.

"The Princess Diaries" by Meg Cabot Meet Mia Thermopolis, an ordinary teenage girl who discovers she's actually a princess. Follow her hilarious journey as she navigates royal life, high school drama, and the challenges of growing up.

"A Wrinkle in Time" by Madeleine L'Engle Embark on a thrilling adventure through time and space with Meg Murry and her friends as they search for her missing father. This classic tale of courage and love will captivate readers of all ages.

"Ella Enchanted" by Gail Carson Levine Enter a world of magic and enchantment with Ella, a young girl cursed with the gift of obedience. Follow her journey as she defies expectations and discovers the power of true love.

"Pippi Longstocking" by Astrid Lindgren Join Pippi Longstocking, the strongest girl in the world, on her wild and whimsical adventures. With her fearless spirit and boundless imagination, Pippi proves that anything is possible.

"The Secret Garden" by Frances Hodgson Burnett Step into the magical world of the secret garden, where Mary Lennox discovers the power of nature and the beauty of friendship. This timeless classic will warm your heart and inspire a love of gardening.

"The Babysitters Club" series by Ann M. Martin Follow the adventures of Kristy, Claudia, Mary Anne, and Stacey as they navigate the ups and downs of babysitting and friendship. This beloved series is perfect for young readers looking for relatable stories about growing up.

"Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott Join the March sisters—Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy—as they navigate the challenges of adolescence and sisterhood during the Civil War era. This timeless classic celebrates the bonds of family and the power of love.

"Superfudge" by Judy Blume The Hatcher family has a new baby daughter. And 4-year-old Fudge is not happy about it. Watch as big brother Peter navigates his sibling's antics as the family adjust to their new addition and new home in New Jersey.

With this ultimate summer reading list for girls, your daughter will embark on unforgettable journeys, make new friends, and discover the power of imagination. So grab a cozy blanket, find a shady spot under a tree, and let the reading adventures begin!

Win a $5 gift card! Tell us your daughter's summer reading list in the comments below!

[disneytva]

Michael Tavera ("The Ghost and Molly McGee", Lucasfilm Animation "Star Wars Resistance") is set to score the Disney Television Animation original movie "SuperFudge".

Based on the global, best-selling book by Judy Blume and from Joe and Anthony Russo of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Superfudge centers on The Hatcher family. Twelve-year-old Peter Hatcher almost has it all — two boomer parents, a perfect though slightly odorous turtle, his very own bedroom in a cramped Manhattan apartment, a ride-or-die best friend Jimmy and eight whole weeks of summer vacation ahead of him — with just one massive problem. Farley Drexel Hatcher, his 3-year-old brother, aka Fudge. Fudge isn't just a problem; he is a tornado, a tsunami, a superstorm, an arctic bomb of chaos and destruction. And when Fudge runs away under Peter's watch, an epic family adventure across NYC ensues. One that ultimately brings these two together just as their world is turned upside down by the arrival of a brand-new problem — an infant baby sister — reminding us all that nothing is ever constant … except change."

The movie is written by Amos Vernon & Nunzio Randazzo (Sony Pictures Animation "Hotel Transylvania: Transformania") and Executive Produced by The Russo Brothers (Marvel Studios "Avengers Endgame") trought their company AGBO.

[ithisatanytime]

is superfudge all bullshit aside actually a good book? and is it a real food?

[notjoefox]

Judy Blume

I've been thinking about Judy Blume a little bit lately. I do feel as if it is a certain rite of passage for children worldwide to pick up one of Judy's books at some point. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret and Blubber really have nothing on Hans Christian Andersen because they say something to kids.

The say, in the plainest of ways, you are real. You have a voice. A right and a means to express yourself, and that means is the written word. Engage in mine and flow yours from the fluffiest, brightest little ballpoint pen you can find.

Anyway, I guess I was thinking about Judy Blume because I was a little bit nostalgic for my childhood. I wanted (sort of) to be back in my grade 5 classroom reading Superfudge, not realising that one of my most formative literary endeavours was happening in that moment. I am glad, because I know now that my school librarian knew exactly what she was doing when she put Are You There, God? on our library shelves. Perhaps she knew that there was some little girl out there with so much to say and so few people willing to hear her speak.

Perhaps, again, I am reading too far into something relatively small that happened in my childhood - days not too long ago. However, another part of me wonders if I'm not. Perhaps Judy's words do have such a profound impact? The romantic in me says so.

But that is the kind of creative I wish to be. The one that says- amongst a plethora of things- you are not alone.

[newyearsmom-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Judy Blume 4 Book Lot Scholastic Fudge Series Paperback Hardcover.

[crosswordpuzzlesolutions]

""Superfudge" author Judy" Universal Crossword clue

" "Superfudge" author Judy" Crossword Clue was last seen on Universal on February 25 2023 and has a 5 letter solution. https://crossword365.com/clue/superfudge-author-judy?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[ebookpost]

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Description

Fans young and old will laugh out loud at the irrepressible wit of Peter Hatcher, the hilarious antics of mischievous Fudge, and the unbreakable confidence of know-it-all Sheila Tubman in Judy Blume?s five Fudge books, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great, Superfudge, Fudge-a-Mania, and Double Fudge. Now all packaged together for the very first time, this collection of Fudge books will please lifelong fans and entice a whole new generation of Blume readers.