Too Far ... WAY TOO FAR!!

Okay ... just so you know ... THIS is a rant.

I'm serious. I'm writing a sternly worded letter to the morons who encompass the developing and producing of programming at NBC.

I'll be honest. I have never been a fan of reality television - whether it's about surviving, singing, dancing, losing weight, blah-blah blah-blah. There is only one that I have ever voluntarily watched and that is Extreme Make-Over: Home Edition. I have glanced at the nanny programs and the switching wives programs and each time I've wished that people really didn't feel the need to air their dirty laundry just to get their 15 minutes of fame. I'm not even a really big fan of the "funniest video" programs because after those first few years with Bob Saget, all they truly seem to show are videos of people crashing, falling, hurting themselves and I'm not a fan of that.

Still ... people watch these programs and that is their individual right. I respect that. I leave it alone.

However there comes a point. THIS is my point.

NBC has a new program that they are bringing to television. I heard about it last night as I was getting ready for bed. It's called "Baby Borrowers". Here's the premise - teenage couples are given the opportunity to take care of children because they feel committed to each other and they know they will be good parents. They have the opportunity to test this as children are "given" to their care for a set period of time. I believe it was three days for each age group but to be honest, I was so flustered at what I was being shown in the news story about the program to get all the complete facts. I do know that they are "given" the children by age groups - infants, toddlers (ie. 2 year olds), school age, teenage, and then ... further boggling my mind ... seniors.

They are "on their own" taking responsibility for the care of these children and seniors. They will have a "sponsor or coach" to help "guide" them, but the parents leave the house (to watch on close circuit tv). From what I understand (and I could be wrong on a few facts - I was simply too flabbergasted to believe the premise I was being shown) these teenagers have "little to none" experience with caring for children and not much more with actually working with seniors.

Okay ... who the heck thinks up this drivel and crap???? Seriously!!

AND WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND ALLOWS A TELEVISION PROGRAM TO BE MADE SHOWCASING THIS?????

I mean honestly ... I'm watching part of the "promo" and one of the teenagers says the "f" word as she's trying to feed an infant and then withholds the infants meals all day because he's being stubborn about eating. She finally screws up to the point that the mother watching has to march herself over to the house and take matters into her own hands.

Like the stupid woman should have ever let the matter AND HER CHILD go out of her hands!!

I'm terrified to think how these young people will handle the older kids, not to mention the seniors and their medication - oh yes - let's get that one screwed up for national television. Nothing spells ratings better than a senior citizen who's meds are forgotten or messed up.

I am simply and completely in awe of the scope of idiocy that allows even the notion of a program such as this to occur, let alone actually produce and air on national television. Thank goodness it is my choice as to whether or not to view such inanity. I just pray that the American viewing public will have the sense to understand this is not entertainment. It's just a situation where NBC moguls have determined to give stupid people their chance at being on television.

Meanwhile ... the writers strike goes on.

Heaven forbid we give the television public something of quality and substance to view.

Final word? NBC putting on a show like this and expecting the television viewers to accept it as entertainment is like a designer such as Armani to design a line of trashbag dresses and expect women to accept them as the latest fashion.

Ask ... Only If You're Prepared

There's a saying ... "Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it."

Wishes, for me, are simply prayers.

So the saying becomes ... "Be careful what you pray for, you might just get it."

Yep. It's true. You gotta be careful what you ask and you gotta be sure you're prepared for it.

For eight years now, I can be found on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings/nights at my church, in the nursery. Okay ... I'll be honest. At first it was simply Wednesday nights and Sunday nights, but the need became great and four years ago we added Sunday mornings.

Since during those first few years, I had everyone 6 years old and younger. Have you ever managed a group of 20 kids ranging in age from 6 yrs to 6 months? Yep. I have. By myself. But that's another story for a different blog. What I'm saying here is that there are very few children in our church who are 14 yrs old or younger that have not come through Miss Cindy's class. That's just fact.

I love all the ages. Truly I do.

I love the "I'm a big kid cause I go to Kindegarten" attitude (most of the time) from the older ones. They seem to become small adults overnight. They fight their battles, they build their block castles, and they love to do anything that involves glue and scissors. They love to be challenged, but they also like it when Miss Cindy puts in a video and calls for a bit of VeggieTale quiet time.

I love the 3 year olds. They try so hard but just can't quite keep up. They get their little engines reving and then either get so wound up that they don't know what to do with themselves or they find a corner and fall asleep from exhaustion. They have yet to figure out dishonesty and so when asked if they did something the answer is truthful. They love to take all the puzzles apart so that Miss Cindy can put them back together.

I love the 1's and 2's for they are learning so fast you can almost see the wheels in their heads spinning faster and faster. Their language is not our language. It is fast, it is incoherent and it makes perfect sense to them ... grown ups are the ones who don't understand. They crave routine and familiarity. And they love to crawl up into Miss Cindy's lap to look at a book or sing a song ... for 60 seconds.

I love the babies. They are the foundation of a nursery, for they are the ones that become the 1's and 2's and 3's and 4's. They are the ones that come into our little nursery world and prove to us the wonder of creation. They crave security and love and they are the ones who tightly wind Miss Cindy around their little fingers in a way that lasts all their lives as we rock and cuddle and rock and sleep.

It's funny how things work out. Four years ago, the need was great and the stability for Sunday morning was necessary, but there was only one baby. And as that baby grew, we did not get more for over a year.

So, I prayed for babies.

I got three. Two in November and one the first of December. Now. I'm good with two - the twins gave me practice at that. Three was a bit of a stretch and there were some days when I simply prayed to survive the hour. However, we managed and we delighted in them and once again my heart was given to these little people who are now fixing to turn 2 yrs old.

Yet it has been since then that we have had babies.

So, I prayed again. This time I got five. Three were born in May and two during the last 3 weeks.

Well. At least they are beginning to space themselves out a bit.

In the meantime, I believe it's time for me to get a bit more specific in these prayers. Obviously praying for babies works. I just need to pray for one baby at a time, every six months or so. Yep. That might work. I can most likely, probably be prepared for it. Maybe.

We just won't go into the jealousy factors with 1's and 2's when Miss Cindy's lap is suddenly occupied by a new baby. Have you ever seen one of those programs with all the monkeys in the trees?

That tree? That's me. The monkeys? They're the ones demanding another chorus of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star".

But that's also a story for another blog.

Peaceful Moments Once A Week

Saturday mornings are my favorite time of the week. They are a time that is so incredibly peaceful for me and I am loathe to ever give them up. It is only for something REALLY important or life threatening that I consider altering what has become one of the best times of the week for me.

I used to be a slug-a-bed. I admit it. I loved sleeping as late as possible on Saturdays, never realizing the moments I was missing. Even after I started getting up earlier due to the girlies, I didn't truly appreciate these moments.

(Ahem. It's a bit difficult to be a slug-a-bed when you have a couple of two year olds standing at your face at the side of the bed, poking you and declaring their hunger. But even then, after sleepily preparing the food of choice and properly setting the cartoons to where they were requested, I admit to becoming a slug-a-couch for a good portion of the morning. Well, a slug-a-couch with attachments. Somehow, said girlies always seemed to be on top of me as I resumed my snoozing.)

In the last couple of years, though, I have found that Saturday mornings have increasingly become "My Time". I continue to wake early, as I do during the week, but in an "on my own without the alarm", relaxing, non hurried, don't have to get dressed and out the door, type of way. Standing at my kitchen window, surveying the weather that God has chosen for the day, I make a little pot of tea and begin my day with my computer. I check in on family and friends, I wander over to my little Sanitarium in the TVGuide Blogosphere, make my rounds, and check in with friends there. After I have finished my tea, I might get started on a few basic household chores - depending on my mood and the condition I left the kitchen the previous Friday night. I might spend some time writing, particularly if a new idea has taken hold of my brain and transmitted itself to my fingers. Or, I might simply brew another little pot of tea and enjoy some time with one of the three or four books I always seem to have started.

In any event, Saturday mornings are now my time. While those girlies now enjoy being teenage and preteen slug-a-beds, I enjoy the peace of those hours. The quietness of the house without TV or music raging, when my heart can rejoice and my soul can rejuvenate. During this time, I find peace.

Words Say One Thing ... Actions Say Another

The Bickersons came to my house this evening. For those who don't know, this is the name I have for my twin girlies when they decide to indulge in sisterly, ahem ... shall we say ... "love and affection". Tonight's display of "love and affection" revolved around who's turn it was to change the movie in the DVD player. After listening and watching this exchange for a few minutes, I played the "Grown Up" card. (I'm allowed to do this. After all, I AM the grown up.) I took the remote, which happened to be on my desk with me at the time, changed the setting from DVD to Video and pushed play. I wasn't sure which one, but I was certain it was a Supernatural video in the machine. I was right. As "In My Time of Dying" (Season 2, Ep. 1 for those who ... *gasp* ... are unaware) begins to play, so begin the groans, the "oh no!"s and various other statements saying they would rather watch anything else. Ignoring The Bickersons, who are now showing a united front, I continue to allow the video to play.

Interestingly enough ... before the firey flash of the title card at the beginning ... both girls attention was caught and the episode continued with little comment and no complaint as the three of us watched those Winchester men and the journey of that particular episode.

They tease me for my passion, they make faces when I play my DVD's or videos, they insist they'd rather watch anything else ... yet when it is on the TV - they are captivated, watching, asking questions, interested in what is happening.

Yeah. Their words tell me one thing ... but I'm a grown up. I can read the actions.

Oh. And the Bickersons? Yeah, they've changed back into the sweet girlies I enjoy. For atleast the next five minutes.

How to Get Kids to Do Whatever You Want

For those who need to know:
A guaranteed way to get a kid to do anything you want them to do is to make a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookie dough and put it in a container in the refrigerator. It will reduce them to a puddle of begging and pleading ... not for the cookies to be baked, but for a spoonful of the sugary chocolatey goodness.
Of course, a guaranteed way to make the same kid crazy is to post a comment about it on your blogsite.
Then again, I've always loved my kids and living dangerously. Making chocolate chip cookie dough seems to satisfy both requirements.