OK, so this post might better be called “About TV,” but I like the idea of being “On TV,” although not actually on TV, because, really, none of you want to look at my 300-lb crazy face. I mean, there’s a reason I don’t have my picture in that other column.
Anyhow, I’ve been thinking about TV. I covet a TV for my bedroom. I have this notion that, if I had a TV in my bedroom, I could put the girls to bed and then retire to my room to wind down for the evening, changing into my jammies while watching whatever it is I want to, and tucking myself into bed, so that when my shows were done, I would actually go to sleep. This is opposed to what I do right now: put the girls to bed, come downstairs, flop on the couch to watch TV, let inertia overcome me to the point where I’m watching shows I don’t really want to because it’s just so much work to get up and get the remote, finally pry myself out of the couch, turn off the TV, sit in front of the computer and web surf until it’s pushing midnight, then drag myself upstairs to bed.
We used to have a TV in our bedroom, and occasionally, I would use it this way, too. But it was one of those wee bitty analog TVs you used to be able to get at the drugstore for $20 or so. The screen was a bit larger than an index card. So we mostly used it for two things: 1) it nestled between us nicely for watching “Headlines” on Leno, unless we fell asleep first, and 2) when Mr. Sane got the 5:30 a.m. phone call for a snow day, I’d pull it out and check to see if the girls also had a snow day. Oh, and when I had panic attacks, it was nice for pulling out when I woke up in the middle of the night & couldn’t go back to sleep, though, frankly, since it only got broadcast channels, I’d often head downstairs anyway, just to watch something other than an infomercial. But it didn’t make sense to get a digital converter for it, since the converter would probably be larger than the TV, and then we’d probably have to go out and get a digital antenna, and Leno was moving to 10 pm anyway. (Though I have missed the old TV on snow days.)
When you are a stay-at-home mom married to a teacher (and a Catholic-school teacher, at that!), the budget does not always stretch to a nifty flat-panel TV on the bedroom wall, especially on top of hockey fees and a nice new chain for the wedding rings I wear around my neck because I am too fat for them to fit on my finger (but I won’t have them stretched because, really, I’m going to lose this weight).
On the other hand, what do you suppose would really happen if I had a TV in my room? Most likely, I’d put the girls to bed, then turn on the TV and start getting ready for bed myself. Then Alpha would come in and ask if she could curl up in my bed and watch TV, and I’d say no and have to get her to bed all over again. And then Beta would do the same. And once I’d done that, one or the other, or both, would complain that they couldn’t get to sleep because the TV was too loud. And then I’d turn it down and close the door (and the room would get cold because our radiator doesn’t work as well as the girls’) only to eventually have one girl or the other come in again and ask if she could curl up next to me. And I’d probably cave, because I’d be so tired, and then, when Mr. Sane came up to bed, he’d have to haul her to her room (since, whichever it would be, they’re both too big for me to carry), or we’d have to put up with being kicked all night.
So, really, I just need to skip the TV and drag my butt to bed.