My mom posed a great question: "how can you blog without using any screen time?" Of course, any writer would devise her own unique way around this problem. Me, I've chosen to write my pieces by hand and then submit them to Stink Dog for typing, posting and sharing. Any spelling or grammatical errors are his alone.
Saw right through that one, didn't you? Kudos. In truth, we have decided that we may use the computer or TV as a tool when necessary. I like to think of myself as a fairly low-tech chick. I don't have a smart phone or an iPad. Our family calendar is kept with paper and pen. My iPod is circa 1854. But a good part of our communication with the outside world is done via email. As any soccer mom knows, those emails alone take up a full 90% of your inbox. We've also become so dependent on the internet for finding information about local events and the monthly specials at Dairy Queen, I don't know if we'd be able to do it any other way. The only thing I can really see needing the television for is breaking weather news. Given the changeable Minnesota weather and in particular these past "someone up there hates us" six months, I feel confident that we will have at least 3 dates with Sven Sundgaard this week. The boys haven't yet come up with a way to use the XBox or PS3 as a tool, but these are smart young men, folks. They will find a way.
The first day of the experiment didn't go too badly, as evidenced by the fact that I am blogging about it and not tied up in my crawl space. I woke excited about the challenge of the day and week ahead. I began mentally planning my day as I lay in bed but was quickly brought to my senses. In the world's worst stage whisper, one child said to the other "I. Am. Incredibly. Bored." We were approximately one hour into day one of seven.
After showering and getting ready for the day, I asked the boys what they'd like to do. Honestly, I was hoping they'd say they had already made fascinating plans with their friends and they'd be home in time to enjoy a superb home-cooked meal and some family togetherness. Instead I got "uhuhuh" which is shorthand for "I don't know," a phrase far too cumbersome to utter in its entirety. Ian's eyes brightened and he said "Let's go to the Children's Museum!" Something died inside of me. Barely more than a month ago I went to the museum on a field trip with the kindergartners I worked with. I don't mean to say they were the only kindergartners there that day. In fact, every kindergartner from North America was there. And a few from Liechtenstein. I was not anxious to return. Add to this that when the boys were young, we had a membership for many years and went to the museum frequently. It was very easy to get to and with the membership, we never felt like we had to spend all day there. Ian asked about all the exhibits he remembered. Were they all still there? Yes, yes, they were ALL still there. Apart from the traveling exhibits, everything was remarkably unchanged. I tried to imagine my teenagers among all the little kids, playing in the pretend grocery store, making merry at the water tables, climbing through tunnels in ant costumes Oy. I decided that if that's what they wanted to do, if they wanted to feel like little kids again, that's what we would do, pride be damned. I would wear a big floppy hat and sunglasses, keep my distance and not answer to the cries of "Mom! Help!" when they realized they were too big to fit through the ant tunnels. As I was planning all this, Ian broke into laughter, saying "no, no, no, no, no, no, no." I had been punked. And never so happy to have been. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise. We've been messing with the boys' heads since they were very small. Apparently, payback is afoot.
Our day was actually spent quite pleasantly. The boys and I went bowling, Troy and I watched Reid's soccer game, and in the evening the boys and I took Stink Dog for a walk and talked about all kinds of things. Troy fell asleep on the couch at about 9:15. The only unusual thing about this is that the TV wasn't on at the time. He went to bed at about 10 and the rest of us were up for several hours after that. I read the Sunday paper, which usually lays on the floor until the following Saturday, and went through several magazines I've been saving for clippings for my vision board. The boys played a lengthy game of something I don't understand downstairs and then came up to read. I don't think any of us went through the withdrawal we thought we would feel, but it's early in game.
Stay tuned.
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