Local Television at its Finest

For your entertainment I have embedded a short clip of me on a local television show. I know I am surrounded by friends on this blog and I feel safe showing it. Please do me the courtesy of reading my explanation below if you do choose to watch.

Behind the Scenes:

Sometimes after certain experiences and attempts at certain things I wonder . . . Do I know myself? Do I remember past experiences with my children and have I learned anything? Is my hope so great that I believe in things not yet seen or am I just pretending that I live in a magical world where things happen as I envision them? Sometimes I think I forget that I'm me . . . and me is certainly not perfect and nothing goes according to the envisioned plan.

And now sitting here in retrospect I ask my last-week-self, Why in the world did you think that bringing your not-always-agreeable and unpredictable 3-year-old to a live television show would be a good idea? 

Let me give you the rundown: I'm up several times the night before with Charlie who we finally figured had an ear infection (side note- we gave him 50/50 vinegar and water drops in his ears which brought relief in under 1 minute, 1 minute!!! I hope this trick works as well in the future and we can avoid annoying Dr. visits and antibiotics forever).

I get out of bed after not sleeping, but really just coming slightly in and out of consciousness to get ready. I wake Emerson to get ready and bribe him with cookies to wear the clothes I want him to instead of whatever awful and strange outfit he was going to pick out in spite of me.

We arrive at the studio, set up, and find little toys to play with. We have about 5 minutes until we are to go on air. I'm wearing high, high heels, which I feel like I'm just learning to walk in and a lot more eye makeup than normal (because any eye-shadow at all is more than normal). I then hear, "Mom, my belly hurts. I need to go poop!" Super. Of course you do. Right now. The heels come off, I pick him up and sprint toward the bathroom. 

My hurrying him along doesn't speed up the process and probably makes him more uncomfortable. He insists that I "Take all this stuff off" until he is sitting there in only his shirt. I'm looking at the time. He feels sick. I'm sweating. Is this really happening right now? I leave him alone on the pot to sprint barefoot through the studio to check the status. News people are staring and wondering. "You have one minute," I hear. I should be setting my stuff up in front of the cameras and talking to the hosts about what I'm about to talk about. I take off back to the bathroom where I redress the 3-year-old, run like a cheetah back to the news room, throw the 3-year-old and his shoes down, slip the heels back on my feet, and stumble out of breath in front of the camera where the segment had to begin without me. 

I can't catch my breath, I can't talk. What's going on? This is absolutely ridiculous. I finally catch my breath and begin to speak normally, like I hadn't just run around the block 18 times to gear up for the event. Is my forehead shiny right now?

What now? Oh, the 3-year-old I brought with me doesn't want to come on camera to model the shirt I made. I balance him on my hip as I finish the segment. This is my life, simultaneously balancing a child on one hip while I stir a pot, send a package, teach a lesson . . . promote my humanitarian project on live television.

Oh well, it's over. I don't think many people watch the show anyway. They are probably watching Kelly. Is that all it is now? She kind of reminds me of  Barbie's baby sister, Kelly.

Back to the 3-year-old. . . my poor choice of bringing him today created stress, but it's out of my mind at bedtime as we cuddle up on his bed with a Christmas book, surrounded by bears and a stuffed dog. I can't kiss his smooth round face enough and we promise each other to have another fun day tomorrow.