Morning is Broken

It was probably inevitable that today would be a bad day. Despite successfully falling asleep at 9 p.m. last night in order to attempt to get well from a bad cold, I was awoken at 10 by the rattling back door, and remained awake, snuffling and shuffling for 4 hours. So the 6 am start was more harsh than usual.

Then, my "sick day" to recover continues:
6:45 a.m., take child's temperature (normal).
7 a.m., feed child.
7:15 a.m., prepare child's lunch.
7:30 a.m., get child ready for school. (aka listen to moans and cries about the torture devices known as pants, socks, and coats).
7:45 a.m., drive child to school, and work (unpaid) for 30 minutes to take care of things that cannot wait while I am sick.
8:30 a.m., drop crying child at kindergarten.
8:45 a.m., fill out paperwork to use one of my ever-dwindling sick days.
9:00 a.m., drive home.
9:15 a.m., settle onto couch with hot tea and english muffin.
9:30 a.m., answer work emails.
9:45 a.m., close eyes.
10:00 a.m., answer phone and speak to school secretary about child with fever of 99.9 in nurse's office.
10:01 a.m., call doctor's office to make appointment for relapsing child to be seen by doctor, per printed information provided by school nurse on original fever day.
10:06 a.m., learn that child is not welcome at doctor's office because according to said office, child has "picked up a new virus which should be treated at home unless child appears to stop breathing or spikes a high fever which does not respond to fever-reducing medication."
10:07 a.m., drive to school to pick up child. make cell phone call to mother in order to cry and moan about the unfairness of life and stress of being sick and having sick child.
10:18 a.m., retrieve child from school nurse's office. Note significant lack of signs and symptoms of illness in said child.
10:20 a.m., drive child home in silence while engaging in lengthy internal debate about what to do with said child upon re-entry to the household.
10:35 a.m., take child's temperature. Normal.
10:40 a.m., retreat to bathroom and turn on hot water faucet to the maximum.
10:42 a.m., respond to child's statement of hunger by unzipping child's backpack, removing child's lunchbox and shoving it in direction of child. return to bathroom.
10:50 a.m., decide attitude adjustment is only hope for survival. Throw out concerns that child is learning she can leave school at will and assume child feels like self (aka crap). Give child medicine for headache, a bevy of beverages and instruct child to rest (aka tell child "yes, you can watch PBS kids).Proceed to kitchen. Make buttermilk mashed potatoes and 600 cups of tea. Compose blog entry in head. Set internal timer until bedtime in head.

The Electronic Babysitter

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This episode seemed as brainless and wishy-washy as kids watching tv can get. Okay, I get it, people have circumstances which make them exert little or no parental controls over the kids' tv viewing. And their suggestions are fine (select the shows for them, watch with the kids, try to engage them in conversation [good luck with that one], limit the time), but if the point is that you need tv for an emergency babysitter or to get dinner made, you aren't going to be watching alongside the children, now are you?

TV watching is one of the battles I've picked, and frankly, it hasn't been a battle at all. At least not with my kid. Maybe internally, when I've wanted to get a break but haven't. Not to say that there is no TV viewing whatsoever in our house (I have become a far bigger consumer of TV since becoming a parent, aka not having a life), but for the child it is very limited. She absolutely loves it when she gets a chance, and it works perfectly when I really need it, but only because it is so rare. And because I don't rely on it to get dinner made, neither does she. Of course, I only have one kid, and I have many other advantages that have made that choice possible for me.

I guess I just think that our society in general needs to practice more intentionality in the media they expose themselves and their children to. After all, you could end up watching Lost.

Land of the Lost in the 70's

I am a "Lost" viewer. A reluctant, annoyed, but still somewhat amused one, to be sure. So reader, you may go ahead and judge me, but my guess is you fall into one of these categories:

A) You barely even know what "Lost" is, so you are less than interested in this post.

B) You love "Lost" and think it is great television, so you find it annoying that I might be gearing up to dis your show (I'm not, not really).

C) You think "Lost" is inane and its viewers must be, too. (But if you know enough to have this opinion, you must have watched it at least a little bit, right?)

D) You are like me. You kind of hate this show, but feel a little defensive when your husband points out how similar it is to stories he wrote as an imaginative but inexperienced 3rd grade writer. (Though it is certainly true.)

Which brings me to part one of my theory. I arrived at this idea through a very circuitous route, so bare with me through a bit of stream-of-consciousness flow here.

Firstly, the current (and perhaps now fading) trend back towards 70's spin-off fashion had me thinking that the eyewear of the day inspired the scary bad guys on the 70's kids show "Land of the Lost." Apparently I was not the only one who made this connection, as a quick Google search showed:


I guess Sid and Marty Krofft (producers) or the sci-fi writers involved in the show had nightmares of visiting grandma down in Florida mixed with repressed childhood fears of being abandoned their by their parents. The combination of grandma's wrinkly flopping neck skin, her giant shades, having left her dentures out and her teetering slowly over for a hug is basically the same as a Sleestak reaching for Will and Holly as they run in retreat from a failed attempt to access the pylon and get home. Just add green spray paint.

So where does "Lost" fit in? Well, here's one theory. J.J. Abrams would have been 8 years old when "Land of the Lost" was on the air. Let's suppose J.J. was already an aspiring writer at the age of 8. He comes home from school, grabs a couple of Chips A'Hoy and a glass of milk, and plops down to watch some boob tube before he does his homework. "Land of the Lost" is one of his favorite shows (though he no longer wants to come to the phone to speak to grandma when she calls). After saturating his brain with the desperate struggles of the Marshall family to leave this strange island with its dinosaurs, weird time shifts, and sudden loss of dad only to be replaced by uncle, J.J. turns to his English homework and pens a creative story of castaways on a hostile island moving in place and time. "Great ideas!" comments his teacher at the top of the page. "Very creative. Some characters seem to appear out of nowhere, however, and you need to work on a logical conclusion. Good effort, J.J.!"

Fast forward 30 years, and J.J. has wrapped up his college years memories with the lovely Felicity, and is thinking about a new project. The idea comes to him on a trip home for Grandma's funeral, as he is poking through boxes of his old pictures and schoolwork in mom's basement. What about time travel, an island, the 70's, unexplained creatures and castaways trying to get back to their world . . .

I think it's entirely possible. And in the words of Eloise Hawking (and J.J.'s 3rd grade English teacher), "Oh stop thinking how ridiculous it is, and start asking yourself whether or not you believe it's going to work."

David Duchovny, hover above me

Ever hear that song with the lyrics about David Duchovny (David Duchovny, why don't you love me? David Duchovny, hovering above me, etc.)? It's by Bree Sharp, apparently, and she made a video, too. Didn't see it at the time, but it's worth watching until the end to see Jerry Springer (?!). I remember the song resonated with me, mostly because I thought it was hilarious, but I did enjoy watching the first season of X-Files with my then-boyfriend on Friday night (or whenever it was). I think we had just gotten a tv after a long stretch without. We may have found it with a "free" sign on the side of the road, and we certainly didn't get more than a channel or two, but watching something kind of freaky and scary about a hot FBI agent named Fox as the love interest was pretty good stuff.

Had a little David Duchovny flashback earlier this week when Netflix sent me Californication. His character is a little rougher and older in this one, no fresh-pressed suits and little nylon running shorts, but nonetheless has some mysterious draw for me. Maybe it's just a time of life thing -- X Files in the salad days of summer, 20-something years when tv and I rarely crossed paths, something like that. But it's kind of fun to remember, however vague it all is now.

Oh, and if you want to see more of DD, google David Duchovny and "teacup." Not posting it here, even though google thought it was in the top 3 photos I should see when I just googled his name.