And Now, All Hell Breaks Loose

Miss Kate turned two-and-a-half today. I realized this a half hour into a duet crying session conducted by her and her baby sister.

Paige was crying because she is a baby, and was hungry, and I was too busy tending to her sick sister who had a 103 degree fever to feed her right away. Kate was crying because of the fever.

And just like that, I buckled. And turned on the TV for Kate. For the first time in her life.

Not only has she never watched a show, we’ve never had TV on when she’s been awake. It’s something some folks have marveled at our ability to do (since, much as I hate to admit it, I can get into a bit of boob-tube watchin’). The thing is, when it’s an absolute and you just don’t do it, it’s kind of easier than, well, than what I have just introduced ourselves to today. From here on out, if TV is even an option it’s one we can easily backslide into, even though we have every intention of being diligent about what and when and how much is watched. (By Kate at least.)

And, let it be known, that–unsurprisingly–the power of TV is mighty. Within literally seconds, a sick and miserable inconsolable toddler was sitting up with her back arched at full attention staring at the screen. She was silent and filled with wonder. It was a staggering shift in the collective mood of just moments before.

So, of course I had to obnoxiously pause the show every 5 minutes to have a conversation with Kate about what was happening down Sesame Street way. “See? Elmo wasn’t good at bowling at first, and he was frustrating, but he kept practicing, and then he got better!”

It’s comforting knowing that at least over time, I’ll likely stop with the annoying animated interjections to Kate’s viewing. See, apathy has its merits.