Yeah, that'd be me.
In the not-so-distant past, I had an article published in a major women's magazine about the virtues of TV Turnoff week (which is now Screen-Free Week to make sure that we can't cheat and stream Glee on our computers). What's more, I actually followed the AAP guidelines of "No TV under two". We kept our television in a cabinet with doors, and when Connery was awake, the cabinet was closed and that was that. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Second children will do that to you (as will four-times-daily nebulizer treatments for a three-year-old kid).
Now it is Connery--brainwashed by his teachers and peers--who is trying to enforce this no-screen week. I made him no promises, particularly since I am playing single parent at the moment with Chip out of town most of the week, but I feel strangely guilty about turning on the TV. Hence the blogging. It's work, right? Not entertainment screen!
The resolve was weakened further by Emerson's diagnosis today with rotavirus. Joy! She was so uncomfortable today that the best I could do for her was to hold her on my lap while she watched Sesame Street. All the while I was thinking back on that research that showed that TV was more effective for managing pain in small children than mother's kisses are. Don't judge me. There was plenty of kissing, too.
Maybe tomorrow will be the day I can unplug everything. Or not. I'm keeping my options open.