“Hump Day”

Of course, I always thought the term was pretty funny, as a kid, in a pre-pubescent, dirty-ish way. (Insert Peter Griffin laugh, here), ahh “hump day”. Now, I get so thrilled when Wednesday is over. The week shortens, immediately, in my mind. I breathe a sigh of welcome relief. Only a couple more days to go, until Friday night.

In fact, Wednesday is almost like a mini Friday night for me. I let my hair down and start to unwind in anticipation of the lazy couple of days with my daughter and her dad.

Clocking in on Monday, the week stretches ahead of you, like an endless wind tunnel of horror. A faulty one (much like the very pricey “Big Dig”, fellow New Englanders), who might hurl chunks of your hard-earned tax money at you for your efforts.

Clocking out on Wednesday, the week narrows down to a big backyard with the evening fireflies dancing a scene of Sugar Plum Fairies around  the beatific three-year-old who welcomes them to her ranks. Yes, folks, your ‘hump day’ is my glimpse at freedom. For a couple of sun-filled, windowless days, anyhow.

TV: The Modern Mom’s Understudy

How often do you plop your kid(s) in front of the television with a favorite show or movie to keep them occupied while you get stuff done (dinners cooked, dishes washed, laundry folded, and what-have-you)? Don’t feel bad. I’m rather guilty of it, myself. I’m pretty quick to turn on some Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, just so I can start supper. It only works for so long, though, until my daughter is back up and under my feet where I can’t cross the kitchen without tripping over or stepping on her. If I’m trying to write; well; TV only holds up for about 47 seconds, or so. I basically have to leave the house to do this.

I’m starting to get really concerned, however, about the actual amount of television she is watching and (particularly these days, as I was of the “television rots your brain” era) what sordid scenes she’s exposed to. It can’t be a healthy amount, or helpful for her mind and self-esteem. It’s enough to make me think that I need to change these practices, altogether. Perhaps the answer is to involve her, more,  in my chores and obligations. It would serve to keep her out of harm’s way, teach her how to accomplish basic household tasks, and build up her confidence while allowing the two of us to spend more time together.

Hmmm…methinks there will be a follow-up to this blog. It’s time to implement some of these thoughts to improve the quality of our lives and our relationship. I’m going to start now, and I’ll write more next Monday on this particular topic. Meanwhile, I want you other Moms and Dads to think twice before automatically sitting your kid(s) down in front of the TV every time you need a few minutes of peace. After all, we can’t always substitute their favorite characters for our own presence.

 It’s funny, …

It’s funny, how quickly innovations appear in the name of killing with weaponry and shopping with convenience, versus the lag time left, in the saving of our souls with cures and books.

Medicine was stilted from the get-go, by the killing of home healers in the witch trials throughout the Middle Ages and beyond. We turned to blood-letting barbers in our hour of need, who probably killed more people than they saved.

What has technology handed us? Kids who can’t do more than work a computer. People who can’t live without their smart-phones. We can’t see the world around us…can’t hope for a future…won’t work toward a goal of a better tomorrow, all because we’re too busy with “needs” we invented, who never existed until we made them for ourselves. We play our phone games, text until we’re blue in the phone, manage our nothings on Facebook, and sit there while our minds are ravaged by age, and TV, and God knows what else. Meanwhile, the real things pass us by; a haze of actual beauty, lost in the shuffle of things to do, people to see, and e-books to read.

Don’t let the good things go, for the ease of a world we can so easily lose. Watch out for the sunsets. Gaze at the trees. Embrace the occasional slight wind on your face. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Walk in the ocean. Count your blessings. You never know when they’ll fall away.