As I sit here writing this, three things come to mind. One, I'm getting tired of the weather network constantly forecasting a chance of thundershowers. Two, Doogie Howser was ahead of his time. I downloaded the episode ending journal music so I can have it playing in the background while I type. Third, where the heck are the kids? Just kidding. They're perfectly happy sitting on the couch watching TV. Yes, I'm using TV as a babysitter. Sue me.
I have nothing against TV. In fact, I'm a big fan. Before I had kids though I didn't want to be one of those parents who just sits their kids in front of the TV. Now, if it'll keep them out of my hair for twenty minutes or so I'm all for it. After having a tea party, finding the dolls they just have to play with (not that one, the little one), breaking up a fight they had over the dolls, explaining why we don't bite, checking to make sure the skin wasn't broken by the bite, gotten them both water (not in that cup, one with a top), changed a diaper, found the Cinderella dress, changed another diaper because she wasn't quite done the first time, and played a game I can only assume they call "let's jump on dad and see if anything breaks", they can watch whatever they want as long as it gives me a break. Theoretically, I'd use that time to do something productive but I think we both know that's probably not going to happen. If I did, you wouldn't be reading this.
The big problem with using that magic glowing box to distract those two maniacs while I quietly escape is that I can't turn it on now without hearing "I want to watch Treehouse". Luckily, they think The Simpsons is one of the shows on Treehouse so I get to watch that at least. It's about the only thing close to appropriate we can watch together. Makes me long for the days when I could watch whatever I wanted without worrying about them. I remember the first time I was alone with my oldest. It was shortly after she was born and her mom was sleeping upstairs one evening. With my precious little baby in my arms I went downstairs, got comfortable on the couch, and together we watched ultimate fighting. I still get a little choked up anytime I see someone take a roundhouse kick to the face or get locked in a guillotine choke. Ok, she wasn't watching, she was asleep. Did make things awkward later though when I was watching it another time and my wife insisted I not watch it with our daughter in the room. "Well, I can promise not to do it again." At least we still had video games. All the bright colours and loud noises of Halo really caught her attention. It was kind of like a Baby Einstein video, just with a bit more violence. Plus if you put a spare controller in her tiny hands she seemed to think she was the one play. It was very cute. She got older quick and soon let me know that sort of thing was a bad idea.
For me that happened one day when I was flipping channels and happened across an episode of Family Guy. As the opening song played I could hear my little girl, as she played with her blocks, singing along. Oh crap. That warning at the beginning that says the following may not be suitable for some viewers, parental discretion is advised; they're talking about me. They're kind enough not to single me out by name but deep down I know they want to.
So all I'm left with now is listening to the radio in the car. At least I thought so until l we were driving one day with the music playing. I wasn't paying attention until from the back I heard a little voice, "get low, low, low, low". Oh crap, my little girl is singing along to Flo Rida. Time to throw in the Raffi CD. Guess I'm stuck in their world now. Stupid parental warning labels.
9 years ago