I’m not sure why it comes to mind, but for some reason today it just seemed to fit.  A good amount of conversation today was devoted to Sesame Street.  Yes, Sesame Street.  Why it’s good, how long it’s been around, where I can stream it, when it’s on, if it would be good for Ijah or not all sorts of Sesame Street miscellanea.  Now I can be a rational person.  I’m rational most of the time.  But today, the mention of Ijah probably benefiting from watching Sesame Street sent me into an internal emotional freak out of “Clue” like proportions.

What, is he behind?  Do people think he’s stupid?  Am I doing a bad job?  Why can’t I teach him things?  Why don’t other people think I’m teaching him things?  Will it help him talk?  Am I not doing enough educational things? What if he doesn’t like it?  What if it’s bad for him?  Have I been wronging him in some way by not letting him watch programs like these?  Why do people think that a show would be better for him than what I do with him?

Basically an insert your most ridiculous reaction to Sesame Street here sort of scenario.  It was really absurd that it was bothering me.  I KNOW that half of the reason anyone would even recommend it was to maybe try to get ME a break from having to feel like I am constantly interacting.

I needed a good smack.  An “I had to stop her from being an idiot!” sort of smack.

Luckily I took care of it myself.  This is it, my smack in text.

Sesame Street can be fun for kids, and educational, and introducing Elijah to it has no bearing on my ability to be a good Mom to him, or raise an intelligent child.  He will not turn into a TV zombie because of an hour of Sesame Street.

*Smack*

It makes a difference though.

And I change a lot of diapers, I earn some self maintenance time.

Last night I walked into a door.  Flat faced, had to check if I had a bloody nose, into a door.  It wasn’t the first time…I was the unfortunate recipient of the nick-name “Tyson” (as in Mike, the boxer…taking down whatever is in front of him) in Middle School.  I had an excuse.  The doors were almost ALWAYS open…and they were glass…and they were really really clean…

But anyway.

Last night I got up to use the restroom, as I have done a gajillion times before.  On the way back I turned right to go back to bed and “WHAM” into the door of the linen closet.  Hard.  I was totally confused.  I had no idea how it happened.  I didn’t even remember leaving the bathroom.  I hit it so hard I had to go back to see if my nose was bleeding and I had this since of panic.  This odd vanity crept out and said to me, “Oh my God!  I hope I didn’t break my nose!  I have such a perfect nose!  I don’t want my nose to be all funky!”.  It was almost as surprising as the door…

Sherman said I must have been sleep walking.  I’m going to go with that.  Anything else is scary black-out seizure territory, and I won’t be thinking about that.

I did wake up this morning and feel incredibly relieved…no bumps…no weird angles…everything precisely where it should be.

Thank God…cause you know…some character may have killed me…