An Explanation

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Let me start with a little background.

I have a love/hate relationship with the tv. Not long ago I used to dream of the day when Andrew would watch tv long enough for me to take a shower, take dinner out of the oven, load the dishwasher....you get the idea. My friends complained, "I have to pry my son away from the tv." Oh how I envied them with their freshly washed hair and clean kitchens.

And then, just after his second birthday, it happened.

Andrew LOVED the tv!! He would watch it while I showered, cooked dinner, cleaned the house. And this new addiction has been a lifesaver since the arrival of baby Ben. Personally, I found nursing and chasing a two year old to be a bit much. So? When I nursed.....Andrew watched tv. It worked out perfectly.

And I decided to not feel quilty about the excessive amount of tv my son was watching. It was all about survival. I gave myself until Ben was 6 weeks to "get it together".

Six weeks came and went. It clearly wasn't enough time. I still needed the tv to entertain Andrew while I dealt with Baby Ben. As the weeks wore on, I began to use the tv to do more than entertain my son while I nursed. I used the tv to babysit my son....while I checked emails, read the newspaper, ate lunch. I realized the habit I was creating for my family, and decided the tv-watching needed to be reigned in.

(You know where this is going, right?)

I am not a tv-hater; I just know that, for me and my family, we need a break from the tube!

So, when Ben was about 9 weeks old, I decided to nurse him and keep the tv off. Which meant that Andrew was left to his own devices.

I sat down to nurse Ben, and I told Andrew to go bring me a book from his room. I heard him run to his room. Then I heard him run into the dining room where we had been making Christmas crafts.

And then I heard the sound every mother dreads.....SILENCE.

I waited a moment (Ben was nursing quite happily).

Another moment.....still silence.

I decided to go and check on my two year old.

And?

I found him.

Mid-shake. With a half-empty glitter bottle above his head.

And THREE EMPTY glitter bottles on my dining room table.
And blue glitter covering my dining room floor.

And three bottles worth of glitter covering my table.

When I asked him what he was doing he smiled that smile every mother hates to love. That devilish grin.

And as he walked toward me with the fourth half-empty glitter bottle, he slid on the glitter covering the floor, and exclaimed, "It's slippery, Mama. It's slippery."

And? Do you know what he did while I snapped pictures and cleaned up the mess?

Yep. He watched tv. An entire movie, I think.