burn your TV

Obviously the kid’s inherited my technical prowess. There he was, happily watching Wonder Pets, when suddenly the sound went dead. I turned around to find the remote in his mouth and the TV screen blank. “What did you do?” I asked, laughing.

I took back the remote. I pressed some buttons. I pressed more buttons. I turned things off and on. The picture? It is not. I have no earthly idea what he could have done. There’s no static on the screen – just black. I can get a picture from the DVD player and the XBox just fine, but it’s as though the cable does not exist.

I am not laughing now.

I know, I know – bad to have the TV on anyway, needs non-electronic stimuli, blessing in disguise, blah blah blah. Look: YOU try wrangling an energetic, needy toddler (I can call him that now that he’s walking, right?) by yourself all day in a barely-childproofed house while trying to do school, start a business, and keep up with the chores. Especially when for some unfathomable reason your depression – which can’t even rightly be called PPD at this point, as you are eight and a half months past a time at which this might have garnered sympathy – has returned with a vengeance, leaving you alternately numbly miserable and unaccountably furious, to the point that you may have scolded the baby for crying yesterday morning when he would not stop wailing for long enough for you to get just one cup of coffee for christ’s sake, kid, two minutes is all I ask, can’t you just chill out for that long? And yes, electronic babysitter = bad while one-on-one interaction = good. Cite me some studies, please, I’m begging to know all they myriad ways I’m setting my child up for failure because I let him watch TV all day.

But that’s not the point at all, because now there is no TV, and the baby, he is not entertained. And I have so. much. stuff. to. do.

::cue despair::

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