7 Quick Takes Friday (vol. 188)
Whew! Filming wrapped up last Friday, and I may need another week or ten to recover.
I’m waiting to get all the details about when it will air, how long it will be, etc., and I’ll update as soon as I know! (Since I know that nobody has been able to sleep because you’ve all been overcome with anticipation about seeing my reality show.)
My two surprises about how last week went were:
- It was more work than I thought it would be.
- It was more fun than I thought it would be.
Given my temperament, in the back of my mind I thought I might end up dreading the crew’s arrival and would end up doing some insane introvert thing like locking myself in the bathroom and yelling “I need to be ALONE!!!!” any time they pointed the cameras at me. As it turned out, I really had a lot of fun, even though it was hard work. We met up with a bunch of fascinating folks, and had some awesome surprises that are going to make for great TV. On top of that, I genuinely enjoyed the producer’s company, and our media guru friend Paul Escandon ended up being the cameraman, so basically I got to pal around with friends all week. And thanks to the help of some talented babysitters, in some ways it was a nice break to be able to spend a few days doing exotic things like leaving the house without children.
…But here’s the problem about that “leaving the house without kids” thing. There is some mystical law of the universe that states that for every hour of freedom you get, you will have an exponential number of hours of work to do when you get home. If I were to do a Parents’ Sleep Index type of calculation, it would be something like:
Take each child’s age, subtract it from 18, then add all these numbers together. Now multiply that sum by the number of hours you were out of the house.
And there you will have the number of hours that it will take you to get everything back in order.
Arwen Mosher was asking Twitter for ways to get young toddlers to LOOK AT THE GLOWING SCREEN AND LEAVE MOMMY ALONE FOR A MINUTE (my words, not hers). I recommended Color Crew on Netflix, which has the amazing ability to hold my 15-month-old’s attention for entire eight-second stretches. I’m not clear on what the overarching theme is, or if there’s a plot, or if the characters even have names. Basically it’s some brightly colored crayons who float around the screen and make happy noises.
But here is a very important note for anyone who might be tempted to follow my advice and try out this show — or, more accurately, yell into the living room to ask your five-year-old to turn on Color Crew for the baby. When you type that name into the search box, the results show up like this:
And if the person operating the keyboard has questionable hand-eye coordination (because, say, she’s five), you may end up hearing all this shouting and gunfire coming from the TV in the living room and think, “What on earth are those crayons doing in this episode?!?!”
The first day of religious ed was last week. And when we were half way down to the church, one of my daughters announced that she didn’t have any shoes (or socks).
I called Joe in a furious tizzy, which was a mistake, because you should never turn to a man in situations like this. From my perspective, the goal of the conversation was for him to hear my tale of woe and shake his fist in the air and proclaim, “That is the most frustrating situation in the world! How can you live like this?!”, and we’d all sit around and feel sorry for me. Instead, he went into solution mode. First he pointed out that my son could wear his Rollerblades which were in the back of the car, and our daughter could then wear his shoes, which would only be five sizes too big for her (and when I pointed out that our son isn’t that good on the Rollerblades, Joe countered that I could wheel him into the class and as long as he didn’t move from his chair it would be fine). Then he pointed out that we had some paper towels and a jumble of discarded birthday present ribbons under a seat, and I could dig those out and fashion some moccasins from them. I scoffed, and he wondered aloud why I called if I wasn’t interested in hearing solutions.
He then asked, “Do you want me to call and see if they’ll let her go to class barefoot?”
“I know they will.” I answered. “They always do.”
Joe began gasping and laughing as it dawned on him that not only was this was not the first time this had happened, but it was a somewhat regular occurrence in our family. “Do you think we’ve developed some kind of reputation as the ‘Shoeless Fulwilers’?!” he asked.
I think we got the answer the next day when he took our son to soccer practice…and he forgot his shoes.
I used to feel overwhelmed by homeschooling, and now I don’t, because I got this clipboard. It has solved all my problems, and now homeschooling will be pure joy for the next 18 years. As it turned out, I just needed a clipboard where I can slide my weekly plan on top, and then a compartment where I can keep my master documents, and a special holder for my favorite pen. It’s sad to think back on my purple-clipboard-less days, but I can take comfort in looking forward to my new, perfect homeschooling future!