So ABC was over this morning from about 7:30 until 12:30. They took a break for lunch and came back to film a little more from 4:00 to 5:00. The camera crew told me to make sure and write something good about them tonight, so I have to say thank you to Bob and Rene. You guys were great! And I hardly noticed your huge cameras, microphones and equipment following me around all day. ;) I am a little disappointed they didn't leave their really cool lights though. They set up these giant lights around my house so it didn't look like I live in a cave. These things were neat! (Did I really just write the word "neat"?) They didn't look like floodlights. They made my house look like I had a skylight in each room. Very bright and sunny!
Let's see, my kids spilled hermit crab food, Cheerios, water, and some more Cheerios all before 10:00. I think the camera crew pretty much just filmed me vacuuming all day. Then, stellar parent that I am, I fed Clayton chocolate pudding for breakfast. You know, because he had a tonsillectomy. He has to eat soft food. Pudding is soft. Of course, it never occurred to me that I could've made him scrambled eggs. Or pancakes. I could have given him applesauce or cheese. Something with some modicum of nutritive value. But noooo, I gave him chocolate pudding. In front of the cameras. The cameras videotaping my every move for America to see. I didn't even use Bill Cosby-like reasoning either. "Pudding has milk. Milk is good. Pudding for breakfast!" Nope, that thought didn't even cross my mind. :::shaking my head at myself:::
The woman who interviewed me, Barbara Pinto, was super nice. She even sat on the floor and played "animals" with Clay. She was very friendly and easy to talk to. She asked me wonderful questions. I answered her like a dork. Seriously. I really did. I'm not sure why. I'm really not nervous in front of cameras. It didn't freak me out that they were at my house filming, yet somehow my brain stopped functioning properly and I stuttered and repeated myself and sounded all around stupid. As Murphy's Law would have it, I thought of brilliant things to say. After she left. I kept thinking of clever retorts, and meaningful dialog. After she left. I felt like begging her to come back so I could have a "do-over"! Oh well. It probably wasn't as bad as I think it was and hopefully some genius at ABC will edit out all my stupidness and make me look articulate on t.v.
Oh yeah, and not to leave out the producer, Andy, he was great too. In fact he got to play babysitter to Brooklyn while the camera crew got a few more shots of Barbara and me. Brooklyn wasn't even crying when we got done and Brooklyn cries for everyone!
I don't know when this is going to air, but I will certainly let you guys know as soon as I find out! Even if I end up looking like a dork, it was still a really fun experience and I'm thankful for the opportunity to look like a dork on national television.
Something I didn't say (because, of course, I thought of it after they left) is that I believe so many moms can relate to me because I'm just an ordinary person. I'm an ordinary mom doing ordinary things and I have ordinary kids who act like kids, not like little robot adults. It's nice to see someone else doing the same things/going through the same things that you are. It's depressing trying to live up to that "Perfect Mom" image. You know the type of mom who showers. Every day! The kind of mom who always has on nice clothing, make-up, and actual hair care products. The kind of mom whose children are clean and dressed to the nines. The sort of mom who has a floor so clean you can eat off it, not the kind of mom who has a floor you can eat off of simply because there are so many crumbs on it. You know, the kind of mom who doesn't feed their kid chocolate pudding for breakfast on national t.v. Instead of trying to live up to Perfect Mom, it's much more comforting to know you're not alone in your quest to both love your kids, and to make it through the day without breaking down, curling up into a fetal position and rocking back and forth.