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July 21, 2000
Rambling about kids.
I just shouldn't watch reality TV. I get way too involved.
Lee probably hated watching Big Brother with me last night, because I kept yelling at the TV -- I was happy indeed that they kicked William off, because he annoyed me so much it made my head hurt. (And yet I watched it. Hmm.) Picking on people, starting fights, and intimidation are not good character traits. They aren't "keeping it real," as he was so fond of saying. It's not honestly, and it's not admirable, it's just bad manners. And yeah, the rest of the housemates are painfully boring most of the time, but I'd rather be bored watching them be nice to each other than watch one person pick fights with everyone else, just because he can.
There. I had amanaged to avoid discussing the reality TV trend up 'til now. I don't really watch Survivor -- I missed the first few shows, and haven't really gotten interested in it. The Real World sets my teeth on edge, and the weird editing effects on Road Rules make me seasick. Plus the cast members make me want to shriek.
After Big Brother (and my having to go outside and smoke a cigarette, because if I'd stayed inside listening to William for one more minute I would have thrown something at the TV, and I don't think Lee would have appreciated that), I went on home, intending to go to bed, and instead played with Beth's boyfriend's daughter for an hour or so. Kelley is three, very cute, very smart, and generally just a great little kid to have around. She has met me before, but was playing shy last night. The last time she was over, she spent most of the evening standing in the doorway peeking at my cat. Smoke doesn't like kids -- I think her previous owners had kids who mistreated her, so she generally hides when there are little ones around.
Last night, Kelley got over her shyness fairly quickly, and spent a great deal of time crawling around on my floor pretending to be a cat. (I used to do that when I was about her age. At least I know now that I'm not the only freak-kid to do that...) She would crawl around and meow, then stand up and tell me what the meowing meant. "Meow meow meow! That means come here!" "Meow meow! I found a bug!" "Meow Meow Meow! What are you doing?"
Once the novelty of being a cat wore off, she climbed up on my bed to chat -- she was very interested in the fact that I was going to go to bed, because I had to work the next day. She told me she didn't have to go to school yet, because she's only three. When I asked her how old she thought I was, she scrunched up her nose, pondered for a while, then said "A lot, a lot, a lot of years old." Heh. Thanks, there, kid. She asked me all about my plans for today, then told me to go to sleep, and ran off to find her dad. Way too cute.
I'm usually a little intimidated by kids. They're too unpredictable. I'm not good at making up games or stories, so kids lose interest in me pretty quickly. I do like them in small doses -- I sometimes miss my babysitting days, when I could spend just enough time playing with little kids, and then leave them with their parents. I babysat all through high school, generally for people my parents knew. Mostly they were good -- I spent a few long summer afternoons in a hammock with a four-year-old, who was enthralled with the game she'd made up: the hammock was a boat, the grass was the ocean, and she was watching for sharks. Basically, the game involved me snoozing, while she scanned the grass and yelled "Look out! A shark!" every few minutes. I also looked after two very sweet little boys every Wednesday after school for a year or so -- they loved being read to, and watching Sesame Street, and were eerily smart.
Of course, there were bad experiences -- the parents that let their kids beat each other up, play in traffic, and wander off alone because "it's God's will if anything happens to them," for example. Or the father who would hit on me every time he drove me home after I'd watched his kids. And I dealt with my share of tantrums and messes. But I enjoyed getting to spend time with kids, as long as I got to give them back to their parents.
Posted by Mary Ellen at July 21, 2000 04:09 PM