It started on a morning a week ago Thursday with a normal routine of muffins, oatmeal and chocolate milk. The boys were watching Cartoon Network while I was preparing a bottle for the baby. The next thing I knew, our less than 3-year-old big screen TV went black. Beads of sweat started to form as I tried to turn it back on. I even plugged and unplugged. Nothing worked. How the hell was I supposed to make it through the day without a TV? I started to panic and called my husband who said that he needed the receipt with the warranty in order to get it serviced. I can’t find two missing potato heads, there is no way I’m going to be able to find this receipt. Luckily, he’s use to my minor meltdowns, went ahead, and called the store. He calls back with the dire news that the service guy won’t be able to get there until the following Wednesday. Unfortunately, the store didn’t get the memo that having three kids under the age of five and a not so domestic mother is supposed to move you to the top of the list.

I’m betting that half of you feel my pain without explaining any further how essential the TV is to my daily life of actually getting anything done. The other half are probably thinking, “Have you ever heard of crayons?” Well, I have. They are the tool of choice for my artistic preschoolers to leave their mark all over the house. Anyway, being the person I am with a long list of items to accomplish in a day while taking care of a 4-year-old, 3-year-old and 10-month old, the television has become my friend. That is until it went black.

Now mind you, we do have another television in the master bedroom, but we also still have the baby sleeping in there as well. Time, life, and lack of space crept up on us and we were still in the process of clearing out my office for the baby. So, how in the world was I going to be able to occupy the boys while I put her to sleep? How was I supposed to watch Oprah while she was sleeping? How was I going to get anything done in the house without access to the Wii?

I have to tell you, I never wanted a TV guy more. A six-day wait for the service call turned into seven thanks to mother nature dumping a foot of snow in my ill-prepared city. Finally, the TV guy comes and less than 15 minutes later, the music of Yo Gabba Gabba filled the room. To quote my 3-year-old, “I like the TV guy.” Me too Hayden, me too.

Still, this impromptu experiment did do my family good. I have to say that it wasn’t easy, but going cold turkey (almost, there was still access upstairs) did me and my children a lot of good. They were forced to play with the zillions of forgotten toys collecting dust. A little bit of creativity was sparked and they began making up their own games. I used play dough as a reward for listening and being quiet while I put the baby to sleep. It also forced me to put a move on it and finally move the baby girl into her own room. I learned that I don’t need to rely on the television so much. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t become all anti-TV or anything. I still need to vacuum and clean the backyard. Sounds and pictures will still come from the big box in the corner as needed. But, getting a break from listening to Bendaroo and Blendy Pen commercials every five minutes is sweet.

Last Sunday I happened to catch a glimpse of E!’s Live on the Red Carpet special for the Oscars. Of course, Ryan Seacrest was one of the hosts, because he hosts just about everything these days. The unsuspecting young, pregnant, Jessica Alba was the next unlucky victim of his series of ridiculous questions. He started off with the standard, “Who are you wearing” I can live with that question; it was the next one that left my mouth wide open. “Would you be breastfeeding? Or how would the process be” asks the dense Seacrest. Being young and a little thrown off, Alba does graciously answer the question rather than punch him or walk away.

I won’t go into all of the reasons why that was such a stupid question, because as mothers we all know how personal our bodies and babies are. A question like that coming from a young single guy without kids just makes it even more annoying. I would have liked to see him ask Cate Blanchett the same question. A woman in her late thirties working on her third child would have known exactly what to say to clueless Ryan Seacrest.

Catch a snippet of Ryan’s red carpet faux pas here.

You can also find more entertainment news on JustBreatheMom.com.

So as I was comforting another banged up kid, I was wishing for some Excedrin and praying that we (me and my children) would make it out alive. We managed to escape unscathed. And my children can’t wait to go back. I can. I can wait a long time.

Next time, I’ll make the suggestion to my friend that she check out some other party ideas and locations on JustBreatheMom.com that are a little less stressful for moms of younger kids.

When I was pregnant with my first child, old carrots did me in. My husband made me a grilled cheese sandwich with baby carrots on the side. His big mistake was that he gave me old carrots. You know the ones that are starting to crack and have white stuff on the side. Let this be a lesson to all men making dinner for the women carrying their child… Don’t give a pregnant woman carrots with white stuff! To say the least, my pregnant self was lost in tears. In my pre-baby days, I would have had no problem telling my husband what he could do with those decrepit carrots. However, those days are over, as you will soon read.

My second child brought on even stronger uncontrollable emotions. I’ve seen every episode of ER, minus the last two seasons, at least twice. They play two episodes a day on TNT and sometimes on Saturday afternoons. I always watched the show, but it became my addiction when I couldn’t work very much during my first pregnancy. One Saturday afternoon, my husband and I are watching TV and before the intro plays, I knew just by the title which episode was coming up. Once again, I lost it. I really lost it. My husband didn’t know what to do. I tried to explain that it was the episode where Dr. Greene dies and he’s trying to connect with his daughter, but he just didn’t get it. Men just don’t get it.

If you’re are still reading and connecting to what I’m saying, then get ready because this one tops them all. Recently, my husband and I were over at my sister and brother-in-laws house. My other sister-in-law was also there and she was reminiscing about a funny story that had to do with her sister. It wasn’t as amusing to me, because it was one of those stories where you had to be there. My sister-in-law who the story was about was crying so hard she couldn’t talk. This made my other sister-in-law cry as well. That’s all it took, because before I knew it I was smack dab in the middle of an ugly cry. And not just any ugly cry, the kind where I could barely breathe and I could feel it coming up my throat. This just made them laugh and cry harder, including the husbands. I literally had to go to the bathroom, cry it out and try to compose myself.

The saying, “A baby changes everything.” is true. Thanks to all three of mine, I now have an open channel of emotion. Granted after this, my last pregnancy is over, I’ll be able to not freak out on carrots, realize ER is just a show, and control the dreaded ugly cry. That is unless I watch Terms of Endearment… that gets me every time.