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How to Support Children after a Diabetes Diagnosis

Throughout the world, several hundred thousand children and teens are diagnosed with either Type 1 or Type 2 diabetes. It is a prevalent disease, impacting an estimated 200,000…

Diagnosing Cow’s Milk Protein Allergy in Children

Creating an environment where children remain healthy and happy is not always within a parent’s control, particularly during their early years. Medical issues may cause a variety of concerns for parents and their children that are both difficult to diagnose and a challenge to treat with…

5 Common Fundraising Mistakes that Might Be Hurting Your Organization

Fundraising is hard work, done with the best intentions in mind. While you might get caught up in the spirit of “doing good,” you could be doing it wrong. Whether it’s a communication failure or a lack of foresight, here are five mistakes you’ll want to avoid when…

I'm A Real Housewife - Where's My TV Show?

The latest entry in the ‘Real Housewives of . . . ‘ series is going to be set in New Jersey, where for a change of pace (not) we’ll get to watch rich, tacky, shallow women shop for size 0 designer clothes and fret about important priorities like redecorating their powder rooms and getting a last-minute Botox appointment. This time I guess the difference will be even tackier accents and the vague suggestion of mafia connections, but overall it’s the same excuse for us ‘real’ real housewives to snigger and feel superior: “I may not have that kind of budget, but I’m a better mom and I don’t sound like such an airhead on national television.”
Come on, we already have tons of shows where we can watch shallow, tacky people make idiots out of themselves, from reality competitions to daytime talk shows to most sitcoms. What about a ‘real housewives’ show featuring REAL people, with real problems, like how to keep your kids from bickering in front of your neighbors, or what you can make for dinner with 3 frozen chicken breasts and an expired jar of salsa?
I can see it now - Real Housewives of San Mateo, featuring me and my neighbors as we cope with such thrilling challenges as an excursion to Costco (where I promise I’m only buying toilet paper and batteries!), or Carol loaning me her carpet cleaning machine even though I think my rugs are beyond hope. We don’t have any trampy neighbor to have affairs with the pool boys none of us can afford to hire, but there is a rather hunky UPS guy we can occasionally ogle, and instead of comparing notes about our designer shopping sprees, we can let each other know when there’s a sale at Old Navy, or a special on ground beef at Safeway.
Hmmm . . . I’m even bored, and it’s my life!, so I can understand why producers aren’t clamoring to make a reality show about actual reality. Watching normal people cope with typical problems we all face doesn’t give one that thrill of schaedenfraude (taking joy in the misfortunes of others - I still remember my SAT vocabulary!), because it’s fun to feel superior to superficial morons with too much time and money, even as we envy them, not just for the expensive trinkets but for having lives that are interesting enough to merit a TV show.
That’s my dirty little secret - I’m ashamed to admit that sometimes I wish I had a more glamorous, unusual life, even though I love my family and can even find joy in some of my more mundane moments. Oh, I know raising kids and teaching music (and all my other odd jobs) are much more important than getting on television because I’m an airhead with a sugar daddy, but every now and then we all yearn for a bit of glamour, something novel to break up the routine. I know - I’ll go wild on my next trip to Costco and spring for some new socks.

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