The TV Talk

Last night we finally had The Talk in our house.

“Grace has a TV in her room.”
“Yes, yes, she does.”
“I don’t.”
“No, we share our TV in our family.”
“But Grace has one.”
“Yes, Grace has one. But our family has one TV, and we watch it together. If you were in your room by yourself, you would be sad.”
“When I am four, can I have a TV?”

This is when my husband cut in with that never-in-your-life tone that is buried deep in that Y chromosome. “You will NEVER have a TV in your room until you’re out of the house!”

Silence.

I never thought we’d have the television battle just yet. Grade school, sure. Preschool, no.

Yes, we’re movie people, but we’re just not live-or-die by the television types. My husband, who grew up in the country, believes kids should enjoy the real world first. I never grew up with a TV in my room either, but in the short period I lived with my in-laws after our apartment flooded, I realized how jarring it can be. We’d turn on the TV, which was in our room, every night for hours to escape. It wasn’t great for us, nor for our relationship.

In fact, when we built our house, no bedrooms had a cable outlet. My mother protested it’d be an issue for resale value. My feeling is by the time we sell, it will all be wireless.

I realize we’re an oddity in this society. Though, if you pay attention to the dialogue about going digital, it seems that fewer people are relying on cable these days. Maybe we’re not so strange after all.

So, no, little one, you won’t be getting a TV for your room. You will someday remember fighting over shows with your brother, protesting when parents overrule and playing “movie theatre” on a blanket with your bowl of popcorn. And that is OK too.

Our little leek experiment: Not dead yet!

My poor brown thumb is a little less so.

I'm proud to say that our poor little leeks have made it through the first week of life.

Each day, my daughter stands on her tiptoes and stretches her little arms over the counter, to see how the peat pellets are progressing. So far, about two-thirds have sprouted - little green and white strings curling in their container.

So we've made it through week one. We'll see what happens when they are introduced to the wind tunnel that is our backyard!

I am the wierd neighbor

Every neighborhood has its share of quirky neighbors. I guess I never realized before that I'm the local representative!

Sure, everyone leaves their cans on a kitchen counter to recycle after a get-together. But here, we have the cans and usually lots of dishes to do as well after a party. There's a set of Stonyfield yogurt kiddie cups on the counter, washed and drying to mail back for recycling.

Not to mention the daily line-up paper bags of Sunday newspapers, mail and assorted papers, and plastics, tin cans and aluminun to recycle.

Heck, my husband even washes and balls up the aluminum foil to recycle after cooking, to make a poor three-point shot into the bag.

Upstairs, in the loft, there's another line-up of boxes. What outgrown kids items to sell back. What to give to a friend. What to donate to the next drive.

But the neighbors can absolve me of my wierdness. After all, that's within my home. It's that whole "outside" thing that's making them shake their heads.

The other day, I mentioned the compost bin situation to a friend of mine in an attempt to commiserate with her over her trampoline issue. Her reaction? Crinkling up her nose in disgust. Come on, this is vegetable bits, not manure! And if you do it right, there's little or no smell at all.

Then yesterday, we ran into another neighbor as we're meauring out where to put the raised bed. She sort-of accepted the veggie bed (though I've found some great plans in some of the books I'm reading!), but her eyebrow definitely raised and I think I saw a "I'm so glad I'm moving" expression when I mentioned the dwarf blueberries we were thinking about adding to our yard to help meet our bush quota.

Nevermind that my home is one of the most landscaped on the street. When you break out of comfort zones of the people around you, you become the wierd neighbor. And I think I'm OK with that.

A cracked idea

I realize that every major holiday has been commercialized beyond recognition, but I’m really drawing the line and saying that we’ve fallen into stupidity. I was at the store the other day and not only saw branded Easter treats, but also things like "Hannah Montana" egg decorating kits and "High School Musical" Easter grass.

Are you kidding me? Do people really buy this?

Peat pots and preschoolers: A smart combination?

Last night, much to my preschooler's delight, we started work on our "garden."

I figured she had been tortured enough in having seeds in our home for a month now. I broke out the peat pots and container I'd saved for a special occasion, and we got to work on our kitchen counter.

Being a little rusty in this regard I did the unthinkable: I read the directions. It started with "add warm water to the bottom of the container." Hmm... Lots of water plus preschooler equals potential for a huge mess. We got off the kitchen table fast and settled onto the floor.

My daughter oohed and ahhed as the "dirt grew" in the tray. She was ready to begin.

As I've been a procrastinator this year, I only have the six packets I won from Botanical Interests on hand, the rest are waiting to arrive. Of the six, only one recommends starting indoors. I grabbed the leeks.

We pulled out a bowl to pour the seeds in as I worked to get the peat pellets ready. I sprinkled a small amount of seeds in to show her how tiny they are; in her excitement she dumps the rest unceremoniously into the bowl.

She stared at them quizzically. I jumped in: "Look at how tiny they are, and look how big they'll get," as I grab the leeks I found at the grocery store this week. She looked impressed.

I poked the holes in each pellet; her job was to add the seeds to each. I got admonished in a way that only 3 years olds can do when I slacked off and didn't keep up with her expectations.

Finally, after wandering attention and questions like "Why are your fingers dirty?" we finished our initial leek project. We covered our tray and set out to find a spot with indirect sunlight. Except with our home's orientation, it's a challenge. In fact, the few places that might work are in the direct path of baby brother.

So whether these poor leeks will make it until mid-May for planting is anyone's guess. But I think the two of us, regardless, will learn a lot!

(photo from muranakafarm.com)