My boys watch tv.
Ok, come on judgey McJudgersons, tell me how it's bad for their little developing brains and will turn them into couch-potato-brain-dead-zombie-children-who-will-never-function-in-society-so-I-might-as-well-clean-out-the-basement-because-they-will-never-move-out-ever, then I'll tell you how it keeps me from becoming a hair-pulling-out-banshee-screaming-wine-drinking-before-lunch-hysterically-sobbing-lunatic whenever I hear one of them yell "MAMA!!!" for the seventeenth time in 3.8 minutes.
Ok, I'm glad we understand each other now.
Now that THAT'S out of the way, I can tell you that cj's tastes run toward Disney - Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Little Einsteins pretty much exclusively. Considering one of those shows is on pretty much 24/7, I'm usually covered every time I need a
Except a few weeks ago we switched from DirectTV to cable because it was way cheaper, and I'm all about cheap. I'm
"Here ya go, cj! Sit down here and watch tv for a little while so Mama can, umm, get some work done, ok? Mama has a new show for you! You're going to love it!"
Then I sneaked away to the office and started Googling "Private Practice" like my life depended on it.
I was deeply engrossed with reading feedback from the previous night's episode - which I will watch at some point in my future, like maybe when the boys are in bed, or maybe in college - when I heard cj's voice from the living room.
"Aww, he likes it," I thought, smiling to myself. "He's singing along." I was mentally filing Backyardigans away as a potential future babysitter when I heard his voice getting louder and louder and louder.
Deciding I needed to check it out, I walked into the living room where I found him, face pressed up against the tv screen and saying, ok, muttering "StopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingStopSingingSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGINGSTOPSINGING" over and over and over, sort of like a crazy person.
"Cj, honey, are you ok?" I asked cautiously.
He turned around to face me, his adorable little face scrunched up in what I can only describe as rage and said, "Mama. Dat. Yellow. Tow (cow). Won't. Stop. Singing. Make. Him. Shut. Up."
"Oh, I think it's a hippo? Maybe? Named Tasha? And she's definitely a girl, I think?" I answered.
"SHUT. HIM. UP. NOW. TURN. OFF. US'S TB. NOW. MAMA!" he demanded, teeth clenched, anger nearly radiating off him.
Sort of afraid not to, I quickly grabbed the remote and turned the tv off. Cj immediately transformed - a la Jeckell and Hyde - back to his sweet little self, and was playing, laughing and talking within minutes.
Later when I put him down for a nap, I spent an hour or so memorizing the Disney channel lineup for cable.
I'd hate to see what would happen if I accidentally showed him an episode of Wonder Pets or something.