My husband is having an affair. I can tell something is going on because he is walking around with a glassy look in his eyes and is distractedly carrying on conversations with me as he surfs the web. No, this affair is not with a woman. It is with a television - a forty two inch LCD flat screen to be exact - that we purchased last night (but did not install, hence the obsessive web-surfing about proper technique). She has already been christened and her name is Old Glory.
For those of you who know me, and my love of television, it's probably pretty surprising to learn that I have fought the fight against this behemoth for so long. You would think I would enjoy watching Survivor and The Amazing Race is sharp detail obsessed as I am with these shows, but I have been quite happy with our little twenty seven inch Toshiba. Hell, I even thought that was too big. The issue I have is not with TV, obviously, but with the invasion of technology into every aspect of our lives and these large TV's represent all the evil that entails.
The gargantuan televisions of today can not even be put in a cabinet that closes for Christ's sake! We live in a very small house and, in addition to feeling that having this TV in our shack is akin to driving a Hummer and living in a trailer, the TV dominates what is our only room for socializing with other adults. With no cabinet to hide it how hard will it be to resist the siren song, "Wouldn't it be more fun to see what's on instead of trying to come up with conversation?" Nothing is a bigger buzzkill than TV at a party. It disturbs me that people mount them on walls so they can never be hidden - even over fireplaces replacing works of art or crappy family portraits. It is going to be exponentially more difficult to have the daily no-you-can't-watch-another-episode-of-Dora fight with my kids with the shadow of this beast looming over my children as they play.
It's not only the size of today's TVs that disturbs me, but the fact that they are everywhere no matter what the size. My oldest one has already suggested that the old TV be put in the room she shares with her sister once Daddy gets his "big TV" - as you can tell, my husband launched a grassroots campaign months ago. Over my cold, dead body. Again, you would think with my love of the tube I'd have one in every room, but I am vehemently opposed to TV in the bedroom, especially for my kids. Aside from making it more difficult to monitor what they watch, I want my kids to play the underpants game and engage in other silliness when in their rooms. And my bedroom is for sleep and other extracurricular activities and while neither are happening much lately with a new baby I can imagine how much less would occur if Jeff Probst permanently took up residence there.
Don't even get me started on TV in cars. I got in a taxi last month and there was TV on the back of the driver's seat! We can't even go a few city blocks without some entertainment. When we bought our van, we had to buy the lower-grade package with only one automatic door because the next level model came with a DVD player - I'd rather it came with a crack dealer. I can not imagine if every single time I got in the car I had to have an argument over whether my kids would watch a show in the five minutes it takes to drive to the post office. Is there a prescription for Xanax included in the lease?
All of this entertainment everywhere does have some good aspects. Long plane flights are more tolerable when you can watch episodes of 30 Rock on direct TV, but what ever happened to reading a book? I think I read five on my flight to Egypt ten years ago after watching the movie - on one screen people! - they offered which I'm sure was something fabulous like Money Train. I want my kids to play dumb backseat games together when they're in the car on long trips. I can still remember kicking my sister's ass at Hangman (sorry K, but you know it's true) and playing Mr. Chinagin. And while I'm sure it will make me have to scream "Don't make me come back there!" way more than I want to I like that a hell of a lot more than looking back at three comatose faces staring at a screen with drool running down their chins.
I am happy for my husband. I haven't seen him this excited about a purchase since we got the dog (also too big). I do have my trepidations about this thing being in my house, but I'll deal with them. If I have to hang a bed sheet over the damn thing when we have guests over, so be it. I will continue to fight the fight of keeping my kids unplugged and interacting even if it drives me to drink (that's not a far trip these days). Let's just hope my husband remembers I gave in about size years from now when we're in a position to be shopping for diamonds...
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
I'm pissed off
I just had a conference with my middle one's preschool teacher and I am so angry I think I'm going to have an aneurysm. It seems my daughter has a few issues. According to her teacher her fine and large motor skills are somewhat lacking compared to the other children and she doesn't socialize all that much with the other kids. She will engage in parallel play, but doesn't talk much to the other kids when doing so. She is also shy and can be moody. This isn't news to me. I've known for a while that my kid isn't perfect and I could probably spend a little more time with her in the crayon and scissors department. All of which was in my plan now that the baby is a little more scheduled and I'm getting some sleep. Here's what pissed me off. The teacher asked me if I had considered having my child evaluated. WHAT? Let me explain before you think I'm a "not my kid" kind of parent.
To begin, the way large motor skills were evaluated was by examining my daughter's ability to pedal a tricycle. She's not that good at it, admittedly, but I knew full well she had been short-changed in the bike department since I spent all of last summer gigantically pregnant and was a little reluctant to spend a lot of time bent over a tricycle. I figured when the weather got better we would really tackle it since how the hell am I taking my five month old outside with us now when it's thirty degrees out? Then I started to think, what about poor kids who don't even have bikes? Don't they turn into adults who function pretty normally? Or is there a whole population of people who can't get a job because they didn't spend enough time pedaling as a kid?
When we were discussing my kid's lack of socialization skills, the teacher asked me if I had had any playdates with children from the class to increase her exposure to children her own age. Um, isn't that why I pay for her to come here? Frankly, I don't have time or space for playdates. My daughter has school four mornings a week, so now I have to spend my one free morning with her trying to find another kid for her to play with? I live in a tiny house and can barely keep my own children quiet enough for the baby to take a nap, never mind adding another nut job to the mix. And, why the hell did I have all these kids if they can't play with each other? As the child of a working mother, I had few, if any, playdates so I played with my sister and I think I turned out OK.
Now don't think I'm criticizing the teacher for what are very valid observations. Having been a teacher myself I know what it's like trying to figure out what to say during conferences. You don't want to be overly critical, but you don't want to let a potential problem slide by and I thank her for that. I will admit, my kid's fine motor is something I have to keep an eye on and work with her on it. What got me so angry was two-fold.
First, is the fact that evaluation was brought up to blithely. It seems everyone is having their child evaluated these days either for speech or another issue when really, some kids just develop more slowly than others. Why are we so quick to pathologize these differences? I know many, many children are helped by various therapies, so please do not take offense if your child is one of them, but how many other children would have improved on their own eventually without having to have their parents worry themselves to death?
Second, all of this, perhaps in my own mind, was put upon me. It's my fault she isn't riding her bike enough, drawing enough, having enough playdates. The solution seemed to be even more pressure being put on me to structure my day and add more to my to-do list. It made me think back to mothers in the thirties and forties who kicked their kids out of the house trilling, "Go outside and play!" There were no organized activities, these mothers had laundry to do, houses to clean and meals to cook and this was the generation that would eventually put a man on the moon! Maybe my kid would be better at riding her bike if I could kick her outside to do it herself without fear of her being abducted out of my driveway while I folded the laundry. Or do I put everything I need to do on hold in order to do developmentally appropriate crafts with my kids and stay up until all hours of the night doing my housework? I don't think so unless the plan also includes my becoming a meth-head.
My point here is I felt like a freak for wanting to take a wait-and-see approach. The teacher wants to speak again in March, but if my daughter hasn't made any drastic improvements I'm not sure I'll be running to have her checked out. Some things take time and some things the teacher spoke of are never going to change. Regardless of who she is playing with my middle one is never going to be Suzy Sunshine. But you know what? One little girl in the class saves her a seat everyday. I think her moodiness has made her attractively enigmatic. Kind of like the girl who gets all the dates because she doesn't give guys the time of day. Every kid is different and maybe we need to accept that, within, reason, of course. I don't think the answer is parents needlessly beating themselves up or turning their homes into mini-preschools. With a little time and more crayons I'm sure my kid will be fine. But maybe I will look into a child-sized exercise bike...
To begin, the way large motor skills were evaluated was by examining my daughter's ability to pedal a tricycle. She's not that good at it, admittedly, but I knew full well she had been short-changed in the bike department since I spent all of last summer gigantically pregnant and was a little reluctant to spend a lot of time bent over a tricycle. I figured when the weather got better we would really tackle it since how the hell am I taking my five month old outside with us now when it's thirty degrees out? Then I started to think, what about poor kids who don't even have bikes? Don't they turn into adults who function pretty normally? Or is there a whole population of people who can't get a job because they didn't spend enough time pedaling as a kid?
When we were discussing my kid's lack of socialization skills, the teacher asked me if I had had any playdates with children from the class to increase her exposure to children her own age. Um, isn't that why I pay for her to come here? Frankly, I don't have time or space for playdates. My daughter has school four mornings a week, so now I have to spend my one free morning with her trying to find another kid for her to play with? I live in a tiny house and can barely keep my own children quiet enough for the baby to take a nap, never mind adding another nut job to the mix. And, why the hell did I have all these kids if they can't play with each other? As the child of a working mother, I had few, if any, playdates so I played with my sister and I think I turned out OK.
Now don't think I'm criticizing the teacher for what are very valid observations. Having been a teacher myself I know what it's like trying to figure out what to say during conferences. You don't want to be overly critical, but you don't want to let a potential problem slide by and I thank her for that. I will admit, my kid's fine motor is something I have to keep an eye on and work with her on it. What got me so angry was two-fold.
First, is the fact that evaluation was brought up to blithely. It seems everyone is having their child evaluated these days either for speech or another issue when really, some kids just develop more slowly than others. Why are we so quick to pathologize these differences? I know many, many children are helped by various therapies, so please do not take offense if your child is one of them, but how many other children would have improved on their own eventually without having to have their parents worry themselves to death?
Second, all of this, perhaps in my own mind, was put upon me. It's my fault she isn't riding her bike enough, drawing enough, having enough playdates. The solution seemed to be even more pressure being put on me to structure my day and add more to my to-do list. It made me think back to mothers in the thirties and forties who kicked their kids out of the house trilling, "Go outside and play!" There were no organized activities, these mothers had laundry to do, houses to clean and meals to cook and this was the generation that would eventually put a man on the moon! Maybe my kid would be better at riding her bike if I could kick her outside to do it herself without fear of her being abducted out of my driveway while I folded the laundry. Or do I put everything I need to do on hold in order to do developmentally appropriate crafts with my kids and stay up until all hours of the night doing my housework? I don't think so unless the plan also includes my becoming a meth-head.
My point here is I felt like a freak for wanting to take a wait-and-see approach. The teacher wants to speak again in March, but if my daughter hasn't made any drastic improvements I'm not sure I'll be running to have her checked out. Some things take time and some things the teacher spoke of are never going to change. Regardless of who she is playing with my middle one is never going to be Suzy Sunshine. But you know what? One little girl in the class saves her a seat everyday. I think her moodiness has made her attractively enigmatic. Kind of like the girl who gets all the dates because she doesn't give guys the time of day. Every kid is different and maybe we need to accept that, within, reason, of course. I don't think the answer is parents needlessly beating themselves up or turning their homes into mini-preschools. With a little time and more crayons I'm sure my kid will be fine. But maybe I will look into a child-sized exercise bike...
Saturday, January 26, 2008
FILB - Father I'd Like to Befriend
I need to give a shout out to a new species of man out there. This type of man makes me feel a lot better, that my bitching about the difficulties of being a SAHM are not specifically related to my gender, but is a byproduct of a job that is hard as hell. The man of which I speak is the stay -at-home dad.
I met my first SAHD at the park three years ago right after I had my middle one. The lone bull among the cows, he was my savior. As I desperately tried to keep Molly from killing herself on the slide from the confines of a bench where I needed to nurse my newborn, he stepped in, fully able to ignore the infant latched to my breast to ask, "Would you like me to push her on the swing?" How cool is that? We have since struck up a friendship and I have to say having a new perspective on things is refreshing. Forgot a snack? Big deal, we can all share. Kids' clothes don't match since she picked them herself? Who bloody cares (yes, my pal is British and a devoted reader*)?
I have met several more SAHDs over the years and I find this relaxed state of mind a common trait among them. Rather than being in competition for Martyr of the Year, these guys are just enjoying being with their kids and if the kitchen floor doesn't get mopped the world won't end. Gender sort of prevents them from constantly comparing themselves to other mothers, but I don't think they would do it even if they were surrounded by other SAHDs, it's just not in their nature and I think it's incredible.
Now don't think I believe these guys have it made and their lives are a bed of roses. I know they suffer from some gender discrimination. My one friend can't stand it when mothers at the park ask him, "Mommy has the day off?", as if he couldn't possibly be the child's full-time caregiver. It must also be hard to find a peer group. I recently met one dad at Barnes & Noble who I engaged in stay-at-home chatter and he leapt at the opportunity to unburden himself of his parenting insecurities since, it seemed, he had no other colleagues to talk to. It must be akin to being a female kicker on a football team - you belong on the team, your skills are slightly different and it takes a while to fit in.
I love these guys because they are breaking down stereotypes - that if a parent is to stay home it must be the mother. Many of these dads are home because it made financial sense for their families - imagine that. By being out there they are showing people there is actually a choice and, for my son, I thank them. So, fellow moms, the next time you see a dad at the park with his kids, don't assume he's just there so mom can get her nails done. He might be at work, too. A smile and a "hello" might be all he needs to let him know he's one of us and you might find a friend who inspires you to stop beating the crap out of yourself.
* My friend Adam Keeble, mentioned above, has a fabulous book coming out on June 7th titled, "I Got You, Babe" about his experience as a SAHD. He was kind enough to share the manuscript with me and IT ROCKS.
I met my first SAHD at the park three years ago right after I had my middle one. The lone bull among the cows, he was my savior. As I desperately tried to keep Molly from killing herself on the slide from the confines of a bench where I needed to nurse my newborn, he stepped in, fully able to ignore the infant latched to my breast to ask, "Would you like me to push her on the swing?" How cool is that? We have since struck up a friendship and I have to say having a new perspective on things is refreshing. Forgot a snack? Big deal, we can all share. Kids' clothes don't match since she picked them herself? Who bloody cares (yes, my pal is British and a devoted reader*)?
I have met several more SAHDs over the years and I find this relaxed state of mind a common trait among them. Rather than being in competition for Martyr of the Year, these guys are just enjoying being with their kids and if the kitchen floor doesn't get mopped the world won't end. Gender sort of prevents them from constantly comparing themselves to other mothers, but I don't think they would do it even if they were surrounded by other SAHDs, it's just not in their nature and I think it's incredible.
Now don't think I believe these guys have it made and their lives are a bed of roses. I know they suffer from some gender discrimination. My one friend can't stand it when mothers at the park ask him, "Mommy has the day off?", as if he couldn't possibly be the child's full-time caregiver. It must also be hard to find a peer group. I recently met one dad at Barnes & Noble who I engaged in stay-at-home chatter and he leapt at the opportunity to unburden himself of his parenting insecurities since, it seemed, he had no other colleagues to talk to. It must be akin to being a female kicker on a football team - you belong on the team, your skills are slightly different and it takes a while to fit in.
I love these guys because they are breaking down stereotypes - that if a parent is to stay home it must be the mother. Many of these dads are home because it made financial sense for their families - imagine that. By being out there they are showing people there is actually a choice and, for my son, I thank them. So, fellow moms, the next time you see a dad at the park with his kids, don't assume he's just there so mom can get her nails done. He might be at work, too. A smile and a "hello" might be all he needs to let him know he's one of us and you might find a friend who inspires you to stop beating the crap out of yourself.
* My friend Adam Keeble, mentioned above, has a fabulous book coming out on June 7th titled, "I Got You, Babe" about his experience as a SAHD. He was kind enough to share the manuscript with me and IT ROCKS.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)