Kid parties. A place you are only too willing to take your child so that they can have fun with their friends, but ...
They usually lasts 2-3 hours, and you will start to question if time indeed, really does stand still.
They are also an occasion where no matter how much you might try to engage in friendly chit-chat with other trapped parents, you inevitably find yourself holed up in a corner, like a wallflower, praying that the cake will make an appearance soon, as that is the signal that things are finally wrapping up and you can go home.
They are frequently a lovely Saturday afternoon that has been tuned to a soundtrack featuring the dulcet tones of the Bieber and Miley Cyrus.
And just when you think you are going to lose your mind, you catch your kid in full-on joy and you are so happy that you are there to see it.
Children's television is interesting. Cartoons still rule, but there is a ton of variety for today's media-savvy and -saturated child. When I was little, I remember my brother and I creeping downstairs and turning the T.V. volume on low to watch Saturday morning cartoons, with Speed Racer and other Japanese animation, Mighty Mouse, Bugs Bunny, Popeye, and Felix the Cat as top favorites. I've loaded the iPad with lots of Popeye and Felix cartoons, which are available via the Internet Archive for a similar purpose—getting me a little more me time on A Sunday morning.
Cartoons were something you waited for—a weekend treat. There was the occasional after-school kid programming too, like Batman and Underdog, but many afternoons dad got home early and then we had to switch the channel to—yuck—the news (booorrriiinnggg!) When we got a bit older, we also watched "family" programs in syndication that we might have missed first-run, like Lost in Space or The Brady Bunch.
I actually bought the Lost in Space DVDs for my daughter. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. The shows are a bit of fun nostalgia, and I got a kick out of her asking to see "Mish, Mish!" when she was a toddler. Translation: the appeal of the antics of Dr. Zachary Smith is apparently still strong. Or genetic.
Now kids don't have to wait until the weekend or after school for kiddie-fare, as these shows are available on 24-hour cable channels, run by commercial stations, or even PBS. Not so sure that's a good thing, but that's how things are. My daughter has discovered Tom and Jerry, a cartoon I never really watched or liked when I was a kid, but do enjoy watching with her now. And of course there is my beloved Flintstones, along with the whole Hanna Barbera canon. And no child's education is ever complete without the benefit of Bugs Bunny.
It has been interesting to me that she is "discovering" so many cartoon characters from my childhood, as well as cartoons like the Smurfs and Snorks and kid shows like Teletubbies and Barney that were first seen by kids who are now in college. I don't necessarily want to hang out and watch with her as much when she opts for Barney, but as much as that show has been slammed by adults, I find it less obnoxious than Dora the Explorer.Barney may be beyond corny, but at least the show is gentle and soothing. I appreciate the snippets of Spanish that Dora may (or may not) be passing along to her young viewers, but what is with all the yelling? The show is shrill, at too high a pitch, and quickly goes from annoying to unwatchable for me. That goes for you too, Diego.
As much as children's programming is decried (and there is a lot of crap out there, without a doubt), I have been pleasantly surprised by quite a lot of the modern offerings. Some of our favorites correspond to great children's books: Angelina Ballerina is a funny and beautifully drawn program about a young mouse who is also an aspiring ballerina. Max and Ruby captures the collage-style of Rosemary Wells's original illustrations and the humor of the brother and sister bunnies. Little Bear is as charming as the classic Maurice Sendak stories. Babar manages to keep the spirit of the de Brunhoff books while sending Babar on further adventures. Rupertis a new discovery for us, but has wonderful fairy-tale-like stories and great animation, and Franklin is cute and fun to watch. Also good are Make Way for Noddy, Dragon Tales and in moderation, the inimitable Spongebob Squarepants. I have to admit a fondness for the 90s animated Batman, and the Avatar series, which we also watch, now that she's beyond toddler age
As she gets older she more and more wants to watch programs that feature actual kids. For a while, that meant the syndicated re-runs of 80s/90s Full House, fueled by cute Uncle Jesse and the twins. Lately, it's been the Disney channel. The Disney Channel has been brilliant in exploiting this childlike desire to watch other kids. My daughter especially likes the boys in The Suite Life. I have relented and let her watch these shows, but after a bunch in a row (followed by The Wizards of Waverly Place—yeah, right, that's a realistic downtown New York) and other equally inane sitcoms), I am starting to consider a moratorium. Apart from the broad slapstick and surprising amount of bodily function humor (I'm not grossed out by fart jokes, just surprised to find them on Disney), what I really can't stomach is the endless Disney-product shilling: for more unfunny comedies, DVDS, etc., etc. It's not like any of these shows actually tell a story. It's just mindless fluff. Oh well. I guess it's this generation's Brady Bunch. But my dad didn't let us watch that show endlessly. Moderation's the key, here, I think.
I grew up with T.V. and would never be one of those folks who "just watch PBS." I am just too fond of pop culture. I don't want television to substitute for reading or playing outside for my child, but there is no real danger of that. I admit that "Saturday morning T.V." buys me some time in bed on a weekend morning so that I can get a little extra relaxing time, much like my parents got to sleep in while we watched Speed Racer all those years ago. I find it funny, and I guess, a little bit reassuring, that a lot of the same characters, like the Pink Panther or Yogi Bear or Top Cat might be amusing my little one as I put off getting up and starting my weekend day—for just a little while, until the inevitable "Mooooooom ..."
Sorry for the earworm, if you're old enough to even know the reference. If it's any consolation, I've got it too, and Sweet Baby James is far from one of my favorites. I'll agree that he has a nice, smooth tenor, but it's always been a little too smooth and slow for my tastes. One might even say lazy. And after reading some old scuttlebutt recently that he was a heroin addict and even worse, a sonofabitch to Carly Simon for so many years, well, I really can't stand him. I mean, who could be mean to Carly Simon? Really? But I digress.
Being a single gal and head of the household a girl has to learn a few things about how to fix things, or at least give it her best try. I have become a frequent fixture at Lowe's recently, my DIY destination of choice. I'm not sure why I head there first, as opposed to Home Depot. They are equidistant from our place. If you ask my brother it's like the Apple vs. PC thing. I'm an elitist at heart.
Anyway, I have a variety of projects either started or concluded at the moment. And that's apart from my part-time "real" job. But I am managing to fit it all in without losing it, so far. I found some grout under the sink and repaired some fallen tiles in my bathroom. I've been re-framing and hanging pictures all over the place. I've constructed a new TV cabinet. I've set up my wireless internet connection/hub. I put together two large beds that we moved from D.C. to here. On the list of unfinished projects: I'm repainting the porch cane furniture ( and got new pillows for all of it) and reorganizing two large closets. I've unpacked over 100 boxes of our stuff. I've also thrown out bags and bags of trash and organized two pick-ups by the Salvation Army of things no longer useful here, or things we brought with us that we just can't use or need.
Candlestick Maker and Goldsmith, from bibliodyssey
As tired as I am at the end of the day I feel good about what I've accomplished so far and am eager to tackle some more. I've also got tons of ideas for my blog and for some other creative projects. Where is all of this energy coming from? Am I making up for years of inactivity? Some of it is definitely influenced by a feeling that I am racing against time. My daughter goes back to school in two weeks. My mom's memory fades and I want to get this place in shape for us all to enjoy together. My dear cousin died two months ago and I don't want to waste a moment I have on this earth. My birthday is coming up and that always gives me a kick in the pants.
But don't think that I'm all work and no play. I am able to write my own schedule these days, so these projects are all punctuated with a lunch out, a jaunt to a nearby fun spot, a dip in the pool or a shopping excursion. Like I said, I want us to enjoy each other. What else matters?
My friend Jane's recent post on her blog Brigitte inspired me to think about what we save and what we toss.
I am still unpacking all of our stuff and finding myself in a similar quandary to Jane's cashmere sweater question. What to discard and what to save? Some things that I take out of our boxes seem fine—treasures I am glad I brought along with us—now I just need to find a place for them. Some, in the harsh light of day, seem too shabby or no longer have a use, at least not here. Why did I pack these? Oh right, at some point in my packing I reached the saturation point of making sorting and culling decisions and started to throw anything that wasn't nailed down into an empty box just to be done with it. So, for these question-mark items I have built a pile for the Salvation Army. They will now make the decision of whether to keep or toss, without any of my emotional baggage.
As I look around for the proper place to put our stuff I'm also finding lots of things my mom has saved over the years—I come from a family where no one ever wanted to throw anything out. Everything is useful and interesting. This is a wonderful trait to inherit when it comes to old family photos and letters. Not as wonderful a personality quirk when it's cabinets full of old shopping bags. Or folders full of odd news clippings—all about art or travel or books—incredibly interesting—but beware if you start to sort through them, as you will get sucked in to reading fascinating decades-old torn-out articles from National Geographic or Smithsonian magazines, possibly for hours. But the question that keeps hovering is really, do we need to keep it all? And if so, where?
Some would just label us as a family of pack-rats. They might be right. But I think this urge to keep things is also definitely influenced by my family's living through the "Great Wars." My grandmother was a young child in WW1, and raised her young child, my mom, during WW2. My mom told my brother and me stories when we were young of her helping in the war effort by collecting bits of tin foil and other items.
I would never want my daughter to have to live through a major war like my mother did as a child, but when I look at the drawers full of her plastic toys I wonder what it would be like to have only a handful of precious items rather than the modern abundance that surrounds us. But you can't live in or live like the past. My twenty-first century child needs to be a product of her own generation. I am going to try and continue to use this unpacking as an opportunity to review what we have and maybe reduce and recycle some un-needed items to folks who could use them. Call it nouveau-rationing.
This is how I felt last night when my daughter was crying hysterically about her shirt getting wet (?!) and me trying to get her to stop, shut up, calm down, anything but the horrible noise she was making. This was also after two other earlier in the day brat-moments: 1. our not getting cookies at Safeway (we picked them out, but they were never rung up, so no cookies in the bag when we got home) and 2. having to take a bath instead of a shower.
Sigh. I just need to walk away in these sorts of situations and not let myself get caught up in her five year-old over/emotion/reaction...but it ain't easy...and even when I KNOW this, it's not always easy to DO this.
I'm not proud of feeling this way, but sometimes it's a KKKHHHAAANNN moment...
