A some point in a stay-at-home-mom's career an invisible line is crossed. It's not always clear what causes the change or even when it occurs, but the shift is noticeable if you know what to look for. The crossing of the line into full domesticity is different for everyone. In my case, it started with Sally and ended with Oprah.
Several years ago I used to watch the Sally Jesse Raphael Show, or simply Sally as it was called after a while. Like a lot of talk shows, this one started off with the best of intentions and escalated slowly into a stinky pile of trash. Yet the ride was an enjoyable one for a new mom with not a lot going on. I had no license, no money and few activities or friends to keep my brain stimulated. Hubby Geekster would trot off to work in the morning in his snazzy '90 Dodge Shadow, leaving me alone with nothing but a drooling, needy baby to look after.
While infant Intrepid was adorable and fun, he wasn't exactly someone I could discuss world events with. I had no interesting neighbours I could gossip about - and frankly no friends who were home during the day to gossip with anyway. Living downtown was fun when we were childless but absolutely dismal as young parents. Parks with used needles, very used condoms and unpredictable drunken homeless guys do not make for fun excursions.
So, other than going for walks and playing in the backyard, I learned the fine art of enjoying daytime television.
It's definitely an acquired taste. Shows on between the hours of 9am and 3pm normally put the 'k' in 'kwality', if you know what I mean. I tried to sit through infomercials and they made me want to throw things at the television. Every time I hear 'But wait! There's more!' I want to pull my ears off. There's always more. Why does that tactic still incite excitement in the viewers? Are people stupid? Of course they're not going to charge you 2 easy payments of $19.95 + $4.99 shipping and handling for one cheese grater. You're going to get three of them and a special water chestnut chopper as an added bonus. Duh.
Then we have soaps. There are several to choose from and I always wanted to like them. This would be the best option because the plot never ends. About the closest I could get to enjoying them was Coronation Street. Seedy bar, trashy people and funny accents make the place far more lively and appealing than the typical snooty, rich yuppie soaps of America. However, I get frustrated with even the best daytime dramas. The problem: I can't get excited watching them. It takes months for Mackenzie and Lance to hook up. We cheer them on every step of the way, shouting at the t.v., booing at the competition, hugging pillows in anticipation of the kiss. Then what happens? Then what, you ask?
They break up, that's what. After all that hoping and wishing and praying and cheering, they break the hell up.
What's the point of even watching? You know they're not going to stay together. If they did people - the other, not me, sucker people - would stop watching. It's not rocket science. Frankly I don't even know why the stupid things stay on the air. Are there that many people who haven't figured this out yet?
Obviously they're not smart, Maven-style.
So what's left? I try to watch Law and Order and Without a Trace, which are on at 1 and 2pm, respectively. That is, if I'm home and I have a full hour minus commercials to dedicated to following plot.
In other words, I don't watch those shows quite as much as I'd like to. And when I do, I normally watch the characters' mouths move while I'm holding a screaming Spawnling or reading a book to hearing-impaired Gutsy at a volume that drowns out any sound from the television.
Children's shows are a staple in the house, most especially on the rainy days or when I'm trying to ignore the gremlins by escaping to the brain-mulching world wide web.
I have a slight issue with children's television. I tend to read just a wee bit too much into them. Dora the Explorer? Jobthingy figured the entire thing out and explained it to me over the phone one day. Now I tread lightly around Dora the drug dealer with her backpack full of blow and her monkey sporting gang colours on his boots.
Max and Ruby? Dora supplies drugs to Mommy and Daddy Rabbit and they're reduced to running the streets in search of some money for the next score. Now poor little Ruby has to raise Max all by herself with only their senile grandmother occasionally dropping by and leaving again like everything is fine. Ruby's going to grow up hating kids and saying rude things to their parents at the local coffee shop. Max won't get the speech therapy he so desperately needs and will end up a monosyllabic toll booth operator.
Don't even get me started on Curious George. The Man With The Yellow Hat is a moron. He wears that ridiculous hat to hide the fact that someone removed his brain. Every day he says 'Now George, be a good little monkey!' as he walks out the door. He's like someone in a bad relationship who just keeps believing that things will be different this time. He needs some serious therapy, but instead he spends all his money buying matching clothes. So not only is he stupid, but he's also obsessive compulsive. I can't blame him for his unhealthy thought patterns, though; for some reason every single time George wreaks havoc, people seem to appreciate it. His deviant behaviour makes the world a better place. What lesson are children learning here? It's ok to disobey your own man with the yellow hat because he's wrong and you're right and people will love you more for it? He screws up more than the entire cast of Grey's Anatomy put together and we consider him a good influence on our kids. Try that one on for size.
So, in short, kid shows are not Maven-friendly.
The only thing I can watch is a talk show. I used to watch Sally in the mornings and Oprah in the afternoons. Start my day with the red glasses, end them with the woman who sang her own theme song a few years ago because she has lots of money and she can do that. Not surprisingly, Sally was canceled after 13 years of trashy goodness. Oprah is still on.
Oprah is good for parents. Not because she's a parent, because she isn't. Not because anyone can relate to her, because she has more money than Fort Knox and treats her dogs like very hairy children. Oprah is good to watch because her show is done in segments.
Simple, isn't it? And yet it's so important. When you're me, with my whirlwind gremlins and their ceremonial battles, my overthrown household with hills of dirty laundry, you don't have time to watch a straight hour of television. With Ms. Winfrey, I can tune in 15 minutes late, watch 20 broken minutes and turn it off or tune it out until Dr. Phil comes on. He does the same thing all over again, but he's new in segment television land and has big shoes to fill. Big, expensive shoes of the girly variety.
My confession is this: I look forward to seeing what's on Oprah every day. What's worse is that I get disappointed and even, dare I say it, a bit frustrated when it's not a good show day.
A 'good show day' is a serious topic with lots of drama and no celebrities. If I want celebs, I'll watch Ellen. Ellen = celebrities and is ok to watch when Oprah and Phil are reruns. Oprah needs serious, drama-filled topics to take my fried, 4pm noggin off of the impending exhaustion that's setting in. My recent beef is that there seem to be more celebrities and stupid find-your-perfect-jeans shows cluttering up her stage.
Today was a dinner with Sidney Poitier. Well that's swell. Good for him and her and his book and her fans and their ridiculously overdone dinner. Write an O Magazine article about it and I'll read it in the bathtub. Make the show about cheating husbands and the wives who stab them with silverware. I need that type of entertainment in the late afternoons. Why doesn't she get that?
In short, Oprah threw my groove off today and I had to order pizza for dinner. Can't cook when I lose my domestic mojo.
Maybe a decade at home is a bit too long for any human being.
Several years ago I used to watch the Sally Jesse Raphael Show, or simply Sally as it was called after a while. Like a lot of talk shows, this one started off with the best of intentions and escalated slowly into a stinky pile of trash. Yet the ride was an enjoyable one for a new mom with not a lot going on. I had no license, no money and few activities or friends to keep my brain stimulated. Hubby Geekster would trot off to work in the morning in his snazzy '90 Dodge Shadow, leaving me alone with nothing but a drooling, needy baby to look after.
While infant Intrepid was adorable and fun, he wasn't exactly someone I could discuss world events with. I had no interesting neighbours I could gossip about - and frankly no friends who were home during the day to gossip with anyway. Living downtown was fun when we were childless but absolutely dismal as young parents. Parks with used needles, very used condoms and unpredictable drunken homeless guys do not make for fun excursions.
So, other than going for walks and playing in the backyard, I learned the fine art of enjoying daytime television.
It's definitely an acquired taste. Shows on between the hours of 9am and 3pm normally put the 'k' in 'kwality', if you know what I mean. I tried to sit through infomercials and they made me want to throw things at the television. Every time I hear 'But wait! There's more!' I want to pull my ears off. There's always more. Why does that tactic still incite excitement in the viewers? Are people stupid? Of course they're not going to charge you 2 easy payments of $19.95 + $4.99 shipping and handling for one cheese grater. You're going to get three of them and a special water chestnut chopper as an added bonus. Duh.
Then we have soaps. There are several to choose from and I always wanted to like them. This would be the best option because the plot never ends. About the closest I could get to enjoying them was Coronation Street. Seedy bar, trashy people and funny accents make the place far more lively and appealing than the typical snooty, rich yuppie soaps of America. However, I get frustrated with even the best daytime dramas. The problem: I can't get excited watching them. It takes months for Mackenzie and Lance to hook up. We cheer them on every step of the way, shouting at the t.v., booing at the competition, hugging pillows in anticipation of the kiss. Then what happens? Then what, you ask?
They break up, that's what. After all that hoping and wishing and praying and cheering, they break the hell up.
What's the point of even watching? You know they're not going to stay together. If they did people - the other, not me, sucker people - would stop watching. It's not rocket science. Frankly I don't even know why the stupid things stay on the air. Are there that many people who haven't figured this out yet?
Obviously they're not smart, Maven-style.
So what's left? I try to watch Law and Order and Without a Trace, which are on at 1 and 2pm, respectively. That is, if I'm home and I have a full hour minus commercials to dedicated to following plot.
In other words, I don't watch those shows quite as much as I'd like to. And when I do, I normally watch the characters' mouths move while I'm holding a screaming Spawnling or reading a book to hearing-impaired Gutsy at a volume that drowns out any sound from the television.
Children's shows are a staple in the house, most especially on the rainy days or when I'm trying to ignore the gremlins by escaping to the brain-mulching world wide web.
I have a slight issue with children's television. I tend to read just a wee bit too much into them. Dora the Explorer? Jobthingy figured the entire thing out and explained it to me over the phone one day. Now I tread lightly around Dora the drug dealer with her backpack full of blow and her monkey sporting gang colours on his boots.
Max and Ruby? Dora supplies drugs to Mommy and Daddy Rabbit and they're reduced to running the streets in search of some money for the next score. Now poor little Ruby has to raise Max all by herself with only their senile grandmother occasionally dropping by and leaving again like everything is fine. Ruby's going to grow up hating kids and saying rude things to their parents at the local coffee shop. Max won't get the speech therapy he so desperately needs and will end up a monosyllabic toll booth operator.
Don't even get me started on Curious George. The Man With The Yellow Hat is a moron. He wears that ridiculous hat to hide the fact that someone removed his brain. Every day he says 'Now George, be a good little monkey!' as he walks out the door. He's like someone in a bad relationship who just keeps believing that things will be different this time. He needs some serious therapy, but instead he spends all his money buying matching clothes. So not only is he stupid, but he's also obsessive compulsive. I can't blame him for his unhealthy thought patterns, though; for some reason every single time George wreaks havoc, people seem to appreciate it. His deviant behaviour makes the world a better place. What lesson are children learning here? It's ok to disobey your own man with the yellow hat because he's wrong and you're right and people will love you more for it? He screws up more than the entire cast of Grey's Anatomy put together and we consider him a good influence on our kids. Try that one on for size.
So, in short, kid shows are not Maven-friendly.
The only thing I can watch is a talk show. I used to watch Sally in the mornings and Oprah in the afternoons. Start my day with the red glasses, end them with the woman who sang her own theme song a few years ago because she has lots of money and she can do that. Not surprisingly, Sally was canceled after 13 years of trashy goodness. Oprah is still on.
Oprah is good for parents. Not because she's a parent, because she isn't. Not because anyone can relate to her, because she has more money than Fort Knox and treats her dogs like very hairy children. Oprah is good to watch because her show is done in segments.
Simple, isn't it? And yet it's so important. When you're me, with my whirlwind gremlins and their ceremonial battles, my overthrown household with hills of dirty laundry, you don't have time to watch a straight hour of television. With Ms. Winfrey, I can tune in 15 minutes late, watch 20 broken minutes and turn it off or tune it out until Dr. Phil comes on. He does the same thing all over again, but he's new in segment television land and has big shoes to fill. Big, expensive shoes of the girly variety.
My confession is this: I look forward to seeing what's on Oprah every day. What's worse is that I get disappointed and even, dare I say it, a bit frustrated when it's not a good show day.
A 'good show day' is a serious topic with lots of drama and no celebrities. If I want celebs, I'll watch Ellen. Ellen = celebrities and is ok to watch when Oprah and Phil are reruns. Oprah needs serious, drama-filled topics to take my fried, 4pm noggin off of the impending exhaustion that's setting in. My recent beef is that there seem to be more celebrities and stupid find-your-perfect-jeans shows cluttering up her stage.
Today was a dinner with Sidney Poitier. Well that's swell. Good for him and her and his book and her fans and their ridiculously overdone dinner. Write an O Magazine article about it and I'll read it in the bathtub. Make the show about cheating husbands and the wives who stab them with silverware. I need that type of entertainment in the late afternoons. Why doesn't she get that?
In short, Oprah threw my groove off today and I had to order pizza for dinner. Can't cook when I lose my domestic mojo.
Maybe a decade at home is a bit too long for any human being.