Roku App Alone Makes the Roku Worth It
It has been increasingly hard to buy good gifts for Pop Culture Dad. We pretty much buy things as we want them, save for really large purchases, and we've been trying to scale back on the over-the-top gifts the last couple of years. He doesn't maintain a wish list and doesn't have very many hobbies, and there's only so much St. Louis Cardinals stuff you can buy before it gets really duplicative. After giving a birthday present this year that did not receive a very enthusiastic response, I had to think really hard to come up with a present that Pop Culture Dad actually wanted, but that wasn't overly practical. Enter the Roku.
The video on my app
Super Girl watching herself on TV watching the elephants... for the 20th time
Pop Culture Dad had mentioned several times that the Roku or something similar might be a good purchase. We have two Blu Ray players with internet connection and one is connected to an internet-ready TV. Add the various tablets and smart phones, and it didn't seem like we really needed another internet-content player for the television. But we have one oft-used television without any internet content, and it looked like the Roku also traveled easily, so I went ahead and bought it. The gift went over like gangbusters. It probably didn't hurt that there is a lot of sports content.
Fast forward to today. Super Girl has been sick within ear infection and 102-degree fever for the last three days. Since today was my ETR day, it was my turn to stay home with her. There are only a few summer programs worth watching, and we've pretty much cleaned out all of the shows on the DVR that aren't for the kids. I was hoping to fold some laundry upstairs while caring for my little patient, but i needed to keep us entertained, so enter the Roku.
I watched a couple of shows and then we dozed off on the couch.... And when I woke up, the itty bitty Roku remote was nowhere to be found. I swear I looked everywhere logical, but it was just gone. On a whim, I went to iTunes to look for a Roku remote app. Sure enough, there was one!
And the app was free!
Not only did it control the Roku like a remote, but it had options to download more channels and—my favorite feature of all—"Play on Roku," which allows me to send the music, videos, and pictures on my iPhone or iPad directly to the television through the Roku.
This is Super Girl's favorite feature too. She had me play the video of her at the circus, watching the elephants and dancing, at least 30 times today.
The video on my appSuper Girl watching herself on TV watching the elephants... for the 20th timeDespite the two Blu Ray players, Pop Culture Dad had been talking about getting a Chrome TV to stream our phone content to the television [he refuses to buy anything with iOS, so an Apple TV is out]. Now that we each have the Roku app (it is on Android also), looks like we won't need that. Huzzah!
How Seriously Should You Take Children's Hobbies?
At the end of June, Little Diva ("LD") had her first ballet recital. It happened to fall on a Friday. I am still in the "probation" period of my new job, which means I have not yet accrued any vacation days, and the dress rehearsal/recital did not fall on my Friday-off schedule, so Nonna had to take LD to the Friday morning dress rehearsal. During lunch, my mom called to give me a status report. I happened to be in a van with co-workers at the time. They ended up highly amused by my end of the conversation, which sounded a bit like this:
When I hung up, my co-workers started laughing and then guessed what had probably happened, but they were all just as livid as me when I filled in the exact details of what happened, which was pretty close to what they had all guessed, but the actual delivery was worse than what they had imagined.
If you haven't figured out from my end generally what happened, my mom went all Toddlers in Tiaras on LD about her performance at the dress rehearsal. And what my mom actually said to my daughter was something like, "[LD], you did okay. You looked cute. But you need to remember tonight that this is the real thing. And you need to make sure you're getting all of your dance moves perfectly, because everyone is watching you, and you can't mess up." My mom also added something to the effect that Pop Culture Dad and I would be watching, and she didn't want to disappoint us, now did she?
Rage.
I got back to my office and texted three friends with whom I'd already had a group text going. One of these friends (hereinafter, "Twin Mom") is a mother (she has two twins a year younger than LD). The other two do not have children, although one is very close to her niece. Twin Mom (who has known both Nonna and me for over 20 years) immediately understood what's wrong. The friend with the niece didn't really opine on my mom's actions, but agreed with me that people would love the four-year olds no matter what, because the recital costume picture I had posted to Facebook was adorable, and who couldn't possibly love that? The third friend thought first friend and I were totally overreacting, because four-year olds should understand the difference between dress rehearsal and the real thing, and what's the point in putting them in dance if they aren't going to do it right? And that's why she's strongly against kids doing dance or there being recitals anyway, because dance should be an art, not a hobby. The conversation went round and round, and I'll spare you the details save to say that the two moms on the chat weren't buying for a minute the fact that children should only be allowed to participate in activities if they're going to do it to the level of craft/art rather than hobby.
I've thought about that conversation a lot, and not only have I not wavered, but I actually feel even more strongly about the United Mom Position now.
Kids need hobbies. They are little bundles of energy, and that needs to get out (preferably not all over your living room). Also, these early years are the perfect time to find out where your kids' interests lie and for what things they have natural affinities (or things that are just never going to work no matter how hard they try). Yes, at some point, you're going to stop letting your kid change up hobbies or interests every season, because how could they ever get good at something if s/he doesn't continue? But that age is not four. Hell, kids are just barely getting coordinated to do things at three and four, which is why you most programs won't even let them enroll in certain sports or dance before that age.
Twin Mom agrees with me. Her husband is a soccer coach. She has expressed how nothing is more frustrating to him than when parents come in and expect him to make their three- or four-year old Pele or David Beckham. I mean, yes, if your kid has a natural ability, that is something a coach should hone. But at three or four (or heck, eight), you should not be beating your kids over the head with perfection. That's just... Ugh... I'm sad now....
Third friend also expressed how much she hated dance recitals for four-year olds, saying that they were only for the parents. At the time, I agreed with her, but qualified my agreement with the fact that I honestly didn't have a problem with that. And after actually going to the recital and thinking about it more, not only do I still feel strongly about my position, but I think it extends to recitals regardless of the child's age. All recitals for all ages are for the parents and their friends. Recitals are not the same thing as competition or professional performances, and it is absolutely ridiculous to expect that they should be. Recitals are there for the parents, other family members, and friends to see what your child has learned all season [and to justify the amount of money you have spent and continue to spend]. They are there to entertain you. They are not there to get your child a scholarship to Juilliard. Sitting there at my daughter's recital, I watched the girls who I know do teach some of the younger classes and who participate in competitive dance [which, by the way, children are not even allowed to enter until they are eight years old]. They were, of course, good. But they weren't perfect that night either. They probably are more on-point (and en pointe) for competition, but they weren't there to compete. They were there to make their family and friends proud. The recital began with father-daughter and mother-daughter group dances. Do you really think the parents were displaying perfection with their four hours total of prep time? C'mon now. This is not what recitals are about. And, quite frankly, I kind of resent the idea of holding something that is supposed to be a fun, family event to a standard of rigidity you would find in competition.
In case anyone was wondering, Little Diva was not perfect that night. In fact, I would venture to say that not a single one of the girls in the seven Three-/Four-Year Old Combo Dance class performances was. No one cared. Throughout every performance, you could hear the audience cooing, laughing, and enjoying every minute.
Take a look at this kid. Would anyone dare be disappointed with anything she could do in this outfit?
I'm so glad it went well. Did you take pictures? ... Okay ... Okay ... That's not a big deal... You said what?... Why?? Why the hell would you say that to a four-year old??
... No. No. That's not okay. Not at all. ... She was already nervous, and now you made it worse. ... Who cares?? ... They're four! They look cute! No matter what they do — even if they do nothing at all everyone's going to clap. Because they're four. ... Okay ... Whatever ... Yeah, I'm going back to the office now. I'll talk to you later.
When I hung up, my co-workers started laughing and then guessed what had probably happened, but they were all just as livid as me when I filled in the exact details of what happened, which was pretty close to what they had all guessed, but the actual delivery was worse than what they had imagined.
If you haven't figured out from my end generally what happened, my mom went all Toddlers in Tiaras on LD about her performance at the dress rehearsal. And what my mom actually said to my daughter was something like, "[LD], you did okay. You looked cute. But you need to remember tonight that this is the real thing. And you need to make sure you're getting all of your dance moves perfectly, because everyone is watching you, and you can't mess up." My mom also added something to the effect that Pop Culture Dad and I would be watching, and she didn't want to disappoint us, now did she?
Rage.
I got back to my office and texted three friends with whom I'd already had a group text going. One of these friends (hereinafter, "Twin Mom") is a mother (she has two twins a year younger than LD). The other two do not have children, although one is very close to her niece. Twin Mom (who has known both Nonna and me for over 20 years) immediately understood what's wrong. The friend with the niece didn't really opine on my mom's actions, but agreed with me that people would love the four-year olds no matter what, because the recital costume picture I had posted to Facebook was adorable, and who couldn't possibly love that? The third friend thought first friend and I were totally overreacting, because four-year olds should understand the difference between dress rehearsal and the real thing, and what's the point in putting them in dance if they aren't going to do it right? And that's why she's strongly against kids doing dance or there being recitals anyway, because dance should be an art, not a hobby. The conversation went round and round, and I'll spare you the details save to say that the two moms on the chat weren't buying for a minute the fact that children should only be allowed to participate in activities if they're going to do it to the level of craft/art rather than hobby.
I've thought about that conversation a lot, and not only have I not wavered, but I actually feel even more strongly about the United Mom Position now.
Kids need hobbies. They are little bundles of energy, and that needs to get out (preferably not all over your living room). Also, these early years are the perfect time to find out where your kids' interests lie and for what things they have natural affinities (or things that are just never going to work no matter how hard they try). Yes, at some point, you're going to stop letting your kid change up hobbies or interests every season, because how could they ever get good at something if s/he doesn't continue? But that age is not four. Hell, kids are just barely getting coordinated to do things at three and four, which is why you most programs won't even let them enroll in certain sports or dance before that age.
Twin Mom agrees with me. Her husband is a soccer coach. She has expressed how nothing is more frustrating to him than when parents come in and expect him to make their three- or four-year old Pele or David Beckham. I mean, yes, if your kid has a natural ability, that is something a coach should hone. But at three or four (or heck, eight), you should not be beating your kids over the head with perfection. That's just... Ugh... I'm sad now....
Third friend also expressed how much she hated dance recitals for four-year olds, saying that they were only for the parents. At the time, I agreed with her, but qualified my agreement with the fact that I honestly didn't have a problem with that. And after actually going to the recital and thinking about it more, not only do I still feel strongly about my position, but I think it extends to recitals regardless of the child's age. All recitals for all ages are for the parents and their friends. Recitals are not the same thing as competition or professional performances, and it is absolutely ridiculous to expect that they should be. Recitals are there for the parents, other family members, and friends to see what your child has learned all season [and to justify the amount of money you have spent and continue to spend]. They are there to entertain you. They are not there to get your child a scholarship to Juilliard. Sitting there at my daughter's recital, I watched the girls who I know do teach some of the younger classes and who participate in competitive dance [which, by the way, children are not even allowed to enter until they are eight years old]. They were, of course, good. But they weren't perfect that night either. They probably are more on-point (and en pointe) for competition, but they weren't there to compete. They were there to make their family and friends proud. The recital began with father-daughter and mother-daughter group dances. Do you really think the parents were displaying perfection with their four hours total of prep time? C'mon now. This is not what recitals are about. And, quite frankly, I kind of resent the idea of holding something that is supposed to be a fun, family event to a standard of rigidity you would find in competition.
In case anyone was wondering, Little Diva was not perfect that night. In fact, I would venture to say that not a single one of the girls in the seven Three-/Four-Year Old Combo Dance class performances was. No one cared. Throughout every performance, you could hear the audience cooing, laughing, and enjoying every minute.
Take a look at this kid. Would anyone dare be disappointed with anything she could do in this outfit?
How Much Can You Get Done in a Day (Alone)?
In April, I left my former life as a Big Law (firm) lawyer for the wonderful life of an in-house (governmental) counsel. In addition to the usual perk of schedule stability that comes with in-house counsel life, my new gig also comes with a perk often unheard of for attorneys, in-house or otherwise—every other Friday off. This magnificent perk is part of an Employee Travel Reduction ("ETR") work plan. The General Counsel of my company did warn me before I started that there's a remote possibility that I would have to work on an ETR day or two a couple of times a year [in his position, he has to work quite a few; but that's rare for the other attorneys], but at least when that rare occurrence happens, I would have the luxury of being able to work from home, in my pajamas, rather than trekking out to the office. In the four months I've been here, I've only had to work one ETR day. Ironically, it was my second week of work (my first ETR day). The Monday after, it was clear how rare working on one's ETR day must be, as I had several visits from internal higher-ups (including our Executive Director—the equivalent of a CEO in the private sector) thanking me, commending me, and apologizing to me for working on my day off... even though it was only a few hours out of my day.
Every ETR day, I have huge plans for my day off. The Pop Culture Girls are still at school on those days, and Pop Culture Dad is at work, so it seems like with nearly 10 hours to myself, I should get a ton of things done, right? Wrong.
I understand that part of my problem is my ADD. I have a number of home projects in the works, and there's no possible way I could finish them all with one day to myself—or even 10 days! Somehow, though, every other Friday, I assume that all of these time-consuming tasks can be completed in a couple of hours. To give you an idea of how far my delusion goes, here's a list of the projects I've been working on over various ETR days:
finish bricking, painting, and organizing the playroom [complete]
finish painting and redecorating the ocean-themed bathroom and install new double towel bar in the Pop Culture Girls' bathroom [approximately half complete; it would help if Pop Culture Dad could remember where he hid the battery to the drills]
garden [was complete, then it was a bust, and now I just don't even want to think about it. This "gardening" task, however, took three full ETR days of its own]
fully organize the shelves in my newly expanded pantry (twice its original size) [50% completion; and I've given up]
various sewing projects that have rotated throughout the weeks: Dora PJs for the girls [complete; but it took so long that by the time I completed the tops, we can't find the pants]; convert the sucky Gerber training pants into thick and waterproof training pants for Super Girl [20 trainers COMPLETE]; a purple top for myself for going out [complete]; a fully lined dress for work [25% completion]; a puffy skirt Little Diva requested [10% complete, if cutting a two-piece pattern and buying material constitutes any level of competition]; a full suit out of the lovely material my BFF bought me for my birthday [the pattern isn't even cut]; a pencil bag Little Diva requested to match the purse I made in sewing class [80% complete... before my cleaning company threw away the last pattern piece and attached fabric. Abandon project?]; make additional pajama tops for Super Girl and her ever-expanding torso [I got as far as buying fabric... which I then used for the trainers, since I didn't even know where I was going to go with these pajama tops].
reorganize the house and wash, fold, hang, and put away 100% of the laundry, including properly separating those items that need to go to Goodwill from those that need to go to consignment (separated by season for the consignment items) from those that need repair [ha! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Do I even need to tell you the status of this one?]
a whole host of other things that escape my memory now, but which occur to me every Thursday and make my "Mommy-Do List" for the next day
As you can tell, "overly ambitious" is probably an understatement for what I have going on here—especially since every week I seem to be under the impression that more than one of these things needs to be on my list to complete in the 10 hours I get to myself that day. Also, with this day off (and me not having yet accrued any vacation time—not that I'll really have any extra time once my vacation accrues), I have to throw in doctors' and dentist appointments for the kids [I have yet to take myself to the doctor, even though I'm probably in desperate need for a visit to the chiropractor if nothing else], hair appointments, and the occasional extremely long lunch with my mother. I also generally don't take my ADD medication on my day off [why "waste" it on chores??], so you can imagine how many times I find my motivation waning the second I sit down for a breather.
I know "day to myself" is a fantasy for most moms, whether they work outside the home, work at home, or stay at home with kids. The frustration of getting things done with little people [or big significant others] underfoot is a common problem of all women. I wonder, though, how realistic our fantasy of "All The Things I Could Get Done Alone" is in 10 hours. I mean, 10 hours certainly sounds like a lot. At work in 10 hours, I could have (and have had) three meetings and drafted a contract. However, with 10 hours at home, I'm lucky if I've gotten through three baskets of laundry. Is my ADD truly compounding my problem [not the project-starting issue; that, I clearly know is a problem], or is it that moms are so used to having to be able to do anything and everything to keep the family running that we don't even realize how few hours there practically are in the day?
How about the rest of you: What is your fantasy of what would want to do with the day to yourself, and what do you think you think you would actually do?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Every ETR day, I have huge plans for my day off. The Pop Culture Girls are still at school on those days, and Pop Culture Dad is at work, so it seems like with nearly 10 hours to myself, I should get a ton of things done, right? Wrong.
I understand that part of my problem is my ADD. I have a number of home projects in the works, and there's no possible way I could finish them all with one day to myself—or even 10 days! Somehow, though, every other Friday, I assume that all of these time-consuming tasks can be completed in a couple of hours. To give you an idea of how far my delusion goes, here's a list of the projects I've been working on over various ETR days:
Sorry, dear Nemo, someday your friends (and dad) will come...
Has anyone seen these pants?
As you can tell, "overly ambitious" is probably an understatement for what I have going on here—especially since every week I seem to be under the impression that more than one of these things needs to be on my list to complete in the 10 hours I get to myself that day. Also, with this day off (and me not having yet accrued any vacation time—not that I'll really have any extra time once my vacation accrues), I have to throw in doctors' and dentist appointments for the kids [I have yet to take myself to the doctor, even though I'm probably in desperate need for a visit to the chiropractor if nothing else], hair appointments, and the occasional extremely long lunch with my mother. I also generally don't take my ADD medication on my day off [why "waste" it on chores??], so you can imagine how many times I find my motivation waning the second I sit down for a breather.
I know "day to myself" is a fantasy for most moms, whether they work outside the home, work at home, or stay at home with kids. The frustration of getting things done with little people [or big significant others] underfoot is a common problem of all women. I wonder, though, how realistic our fantasy of "All The Things I Could Get Done Alone" is in 10 hours. I mean, 10 hours certainly sounds like a lot. At work in 10 hours, I could have (and have had) three meetings and drafted a contract. However, with 10 hours at home, I'm lucky if I've gotten through three baskets of laundry. Is my ADD truly compounding my problem [not the project-starting issue; that, I clearly know is a problem], or is it that moms are so used to having to be able to do anything and everything to keep the family running that we don't even realize how few hours there practically are in the day?
How about the rest of you: What is your fantasy of what would want to do with the day to yourself, and what do you think you think you would actually do?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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