Today Sullivan is 3 months old. Of course he wears it well; he doesn’t look a bit over 2 months and 2 weeks. In order to maintain some semblance of order, we’ve established an evening ritual around the house. Dinner together, followed by Sully’s bath, which I give him while Jeff and Jude play pirate ship or Spiderman or Fireman and Fireman’s Daddy (Jude has a boundless little imagination, a trait that I hope he keeps even as he grows up). Then I dry off Sully and change him, usually with some help from Jude (which involves a lot of “Please don’t touch your brother that way.” “Why, Mom?” “Because you don’t want to break his arm.” “Why don’t I want to break his arm?” Etc.)
After Sully’s bath he gets an after dinner bottle and I settle on the couch to feed him and can really focus on him. I talk to him, but interacting with him while he is eating is often futile because he closes his eyes, this look of supreme ecstasy on his face. As Sully eats, Jeff gets Jude’s bath ready and goes through the Jude evening ritual of using the potty, brushing teeth, etc. By the time Jeff actually corrals Jude into the tub, it is time for Jeopardy.
I recently rediscovered Jeopardy after a long absence and I was happy to discover that not all of my quiz show brain cells had atrophied. Sure, some of the categories (World History, Mathematics, Ancient Sumeria, guess Alex Trebeck’s annual salary) make me frown and make wildly inaccurate guesses (yes, I always guess) but I smile at the Cinema, Literature and Stuff Even an Idiot Knows categories because I can clean up in these areas. When I know the answer, I try to explain to Sullivan how I knew I was right and sometimes he will open one eye and look up at me. When I guess wrong, I explain to him why I didn’t have any clue.
When I was younger, I loved Jeopardy and when I lived with my parents, I would watch it every night. My stepfather and I would get wildly competitive. No one else cared, but we would try to beat each other to the answers. It seemed the one thing that we had; he always had far more in common with my brother and stepsister than with me. And from the comfort of my living room, I was pretty darn . . .adequate. Some days I was on fire, other days I didn’t know how to spell my own name (and my maiden name was a pretty simple one, so that is embarrassing).
Feeling cocky in my youth, I even auditioned for Jeopardy – twice. Both times auditions were held here in the Midwest, so I didn’t have to travel far: once for the regular show and once for the college tournament (obviously when I was in college). The audition process was actually pretty fun in that it was a written test in 50 different categories. Yes, to me taking that test was fun. Then the tests are scored, but the potential contestants don’t get to find out how they did unless they did well enough to warrant the second part of the audition and I didn’t get that far. This is a genius technique, in that it allows you to delude yourself into thinking that you were only one question from passing. Amazingly, I was only one question away both times. So close!
Rediscovering Jeopardy made me nostalgic for learning. More than that, it made me nostalgic for game shows. In my youth I would devour quiz shows and the shows today don’t seem to have the same draw to me. I have never deliberately sat down to watch an episode of Deal or No Deal, but have seen parts of it many times. Inevitably, at just the right moment turning off a DVD or turning the channel, I will settle on Deal or No Deal and physically cannot turn it off. It seems a celebration of people making monumentally foolish decisions. Perhaps if I were the one on television, I, too, would throw away huge wads of cash in search of a dream million that I will likely never see. But the show frustrates me and makes me mad because people are taking stupid chances when they have life-changing amounts of money right in their hands. I know Jeff gets amused that I get so worked up, often saying things to the television that I should not. I feel like I just can’t help myself.
A few years ago, before Jude was born, the show The Weakest Link was wildly popular for about two months and the show came here to my town seeking contestants. I was there in line to audition. The test given for that was very brief (10 questions maybe – I forget), but the main part of the audition was all about personality, about being able to brag about the wildly fascinating things that you have done. Since I have no discernable personality, I didn’t have a chance. The show-off seated next to me was a law school student who composed her own operas and fixed helicopters in her spare time (yes, really). How could I possibly compete with that?
After Sully’s bath he gets an after dinner bottle and I settle on the couch to feed him and can really focus on him. I talk to him, but interacting with him while he is eating is often futile because he closes his eyes, this look of supreme ecstasy on his face. As Sully eats, Jeff gets Jude’s bath ready and goes through the Jude evening ritual of using the potty, brushing teeth, etc. By the time Jeff actually corrals Jude into the tub, it is time for Jeopardy.
I recently rediscovered Jeopardy after a long absence and I was happy to discover that not all of my quiz show brain cells had atrophied. Sure, some of the categories (World History, Mathematics, Ancient Sumeria, guess Alex Trebeck’s annual salary) make me frown and make wildly inaccurate guesses (yes, I always guess) but I smile at the Cinema, Literature and Stuff Even an Idiot Knows categories because I can clean up in these areas. When I know the answer, I try to explain to Sullivan how I knew I was right and sometimes he will open one eye and look up at me. When I guess wrong, I explain to him why I didn’t have any clue.
When I was younger, I loved Jeopardy and when I lived with my parents, I would watch it every night. My stepfather and I would get wildly competitive. No one else cared, but we would try to beat each other to the answers. It seemed the one thing that we had; he always had far more in common with my brother and stepsister than with me. And from the comfort of my living room, I was pretty darn . . .adequate. Some days I was on fire, other days I didn’t know how to spell my own name (and my maiden name was a pretty simple one, so that is embarrassing).
Feeling cocky in my youth, I even auditioned for Jeopardy – twice. Both times auditions were held here in the Midwest, so I didn’t have to travel far: once for the regular show and once for the college tournament (obviously when I was in college). The audition process was actually pretty fun in that it was a written test in 50 different categories. Yes, to me taking that test was fun. Then the tests are scored, but the potential contestants don’t get to find out how they did unless they did well enough to warrant the second part of the audition and I didn’t get that far. This is a genius technique, in that it allows you to delude yourself into thinking that you were only one question from passing. Amazingly, I was only one question away both times. So close!
Rediscovering Jeopardy made me nostalgic for learning. More than that, it made me nostalgic for game shows. In my youth I would devour quiz shows and the shows today don’t seem to have the same draw to me. I have never deliberately sat down to watch an episode of Deal or No Deal, but have seen parts of it many times. Inevitably, at just the right moment turning off a DVD or turning the channel, I will settle on Deal or No Deal and physically cannot turn it off. It seems a celebration of people making monumentally foolish decisions. Perhaps if I were the one on television, I, too, would throw away huge wads of cash in search of a dream million that I will likely never see. But the show frustrates me and makes me mad because people are taking stupid chances when they have life-changing amounts of money right in their hands. I know Jeff gets amused that I get so worked up, often saying things to the television that I should not. I feel like I just can’t help myself.
A few years ago, before Jude was born, the show The Weakest Link was wildly popular for about two months and the show came here to my town seeking contestants. I was there in line to audition. The test given for that was very brief (10 questions maybe – I forget), but the main part of the audition was all about personality, about being able to brag about the wildly fascinating things that you have done. Since I have no discernable personality, I didn’t have a chance. The show-off seated next to me was a law school student who composed her own operas and fixed helicopters in her spare time (yes, really). How could I possibly compete with that?
Answer: The sweetest, most cuddly three-month-old on the planet
Question: Who is Sullivan?
1 comment:
I've sworn off Deal or No Deal for the same reason you get so frustrated with it. When these people blow such huge amounts of money, all I can think is, "I could pay off my mortgage/car payment/send my kids to college with that!!!!!!"
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