To be honest, I’m not even sure how it happened.
There was life before “PAW Patrol,” and now we’re stuck in the painful after. A place in which time has no meaning, because all that exists in my 3-year-old’s world are Chase, Zuma, Skye, Rubble … and rice with butter, his primary food group.
Up in the morning? “PAW Patrol.” Last request at night? “PAW Patrol.” Bedtime stories feature even more tales about “the pups.” While I’ll admit to feeling my heart melt at Ollie’s request for “Good Morning, Adventure Bay,” which he says in a distinctly Ollie-like way that would be impossible to type out, I’m generally annoyed by the whole Nickelodeon-funded mess.
Oliver has had plenty of obsessions before. There were tractors, of course, and the ongoing love of farming equipment. Back when his vocabulary was limited to things like “up” and “milk,” “tractor” somehow worked its way in there.
And then we had “The Muppets,” all we watched for the first year of his life, followed by “Big Hero 6” and “The Lorax.” Now he’s especially into Blippi, a true icon amongst the Pull-Up set.
And those? I’ve been fine with those. See, unlike those programs, which have some vague humor that lets adults tolerate — or even enjoy — them, “PAW Patrol” is just mind-melting. Boring. Colorful, but in an “assault on the senses” kind of way.
I love the pro-“PAW Patrol” message that pops up before every episode, too. Going on missions with the pups helps children think critically! Encourages teamwork! Builds character! We’re basically curing cancer over here!
Look, Nick: you don’t have to try to make us feel good about this. I know my kids spend far too much time in front of a screen already. I put “PAW Patrol” on because it encourages my toddler to sit in one place long enough for me to mop up the milk he spilled or comfort the sister he pushed. I know it ain’t about the teamwork, OK?
I’ve tried placing limits on how much we’re tagging along with Ryder et. al., but the truth is that Oliver just really loves this show. Hadley tolerates it, so we alternate with episodes of “Sesame Street” because we’re learning all about “taking turns.”
When the kids fall asleep, Spence passes out on the couch and I finally have the remote all to myself, I usually … turn the TV off. I have a DVR full of shows I’ve stockpiled, but I rarely have the energy or focus to enjoy any of them. I’m trying to start reading again (slow process), and I give that preference.
But mostly? I crave silence. Space. My sister makes fun of how low we keep the volume on our TV, but all the noise — so much noise — coming at us all day just gets to be too much. By 10 p.m., I’m done. I want the darkness and nothingness. I might even need it.
I’ve even found myself turning off my car radio and driving in silence. The quiet helps me scrape some thoughts together. I actually do my best thinking on my morning commute.
Probably because that’s the only time my husband and I don’t have furry problem-solving guests in our home.
“PAW Patrol” is annoying, but I know it’s just a phase. Oliver will soon move on to the next toddler fever dream. Hadley will advance from Elmo to “Doc McStuffins” or something similar, and pretty soon we’ll have a rumble going on in the living room.
Or maybe we’ll actually … go outside. Just for a little bit. Blow some bubbles. Take a walk. Decorate the driveway with my mediocre chalk designs and Ollie’s scribbles.
It’s almost summer. Even with my husband and I working full-time and the kids in day care, it still feels like a lighter, freer season.
The perfect time to step back from the screens.
I promise I’ll try.
But Jason? Sweet, single dad Jason Mesnick from Seattle? I wasn’t ready to let go of him — I couldn’t watch my Jason fade into oblivion! Tonight will be my first evening without some sort of “Bachelor” hysteria! And I’ll be serious and say I’m totally over this whole Jason thing. Prior to this season, I thought he was just ideally the “perfect man” (if there could ever be such a thing, which — of course — there isn’t). I still think he’s a nice guy, but this whole D-R-A-M-A with Molly and Melissa has just given me a serious OD on the whole situation. I’m (almost) losing interest!
I mean, really? It comes down to Melissa and Molly in the show’s dramatic finish, and Jason kisses Molly goodbye while dropping to one knee to propose to Melissa. Six weeks later, Jason breaks things off with fiancee Melissa — and asks Molly for another chance, telling her he just can’t let go of her. Molly basically says they can see how things go. And Melissa is left broken-hearted somewhere, back on the path to attempting to find true love. Again.
I know he’s trying to live in the “real world” (whatever that is) and that we’re supposed to believe these are “real” relationships. Do I think you could meet and fall in love on a TV show? Sure. I do. I believe in love at first sight and all that sappy stuff, and I definitely love me some good television! But I find it a bit implausible that you could be ready, after six or seven weeks, to completely commit yourself to marrying someone whose name you didn’t even know two months before. If you take even a casual glance at the situation, a series like “The Bachelor” just doesn’t seem to work. Only one of the couples actually got married after becoming “engaged” at the conclusion of the program, so that gives me a pretty unsettling feeling about the whole situation! Though an impending marriage certainly adds a sense of drama to each season’s finale, it would seem much more realistic to just say, “Hey, here’s the final rose. Let’s, you know, agree to see each other exclusively and see how this thing plays out.”
The next “Bachelorette” will be Jason’s cast-off Jillian, a Canadian woman ousted after she stated firmly she’s looking to marry her “best friend.” After letting her go, he justified his actions by telling her he needs “a best friend and more” — he needs passion. Um, yes? I think we all pretty much understand that we’re not marrying just a best friend. Hey, if that’s the case, my life would be a whole lot easier! Jillian argued that when you’re ninety years old, you’re going to want to be sitting in the rocker with your best friend at your side. I couldn’t agree more. And what he probably meant to say when giving her the run-around was that he was “just not that into her.” Isn’t it just easier to tell the truth? He was worried there wasn’t enough chemistry there, and obviously there wasn’t. He thought they were on the “best friend” path, which was good and great with Jillian! Though Jason thought otherwise. Ah, well. Better she didn’t have to deal with all that final drama!
write meg! 