In all your wondrous, majestic splendor and creative power, I can’t tell you how grateful I am this morning for the gifts that you bestow upon us.
You give unto us one of the most miraculous, precious, and loving gifts only You could give:
You give us children.
Lively, sweet, courageous little beings who inspire us to do better and remind us of what’s important in life…..
Little beings who are giggling, silly, hilariously entertaining one minute…..
and then loud, screaming, meltdown-inducing, bewilderingly difficult little terrors the next.
And that is why, O God, I am most grateful this Tuesday morning,
for those who you’ve graced with the creative know how and authoritative power
to have such shows like The Backyardigans, The Wonder Pets, Kelli & Chica, the ever questioning Dora and her globetrotting cousin Diego,
The Bubble Guppies, The Fresh Beat Band, The Wiggles, Sesame Street, countless others and yes, even the always weird but somehow cool Gabba Gang who leaves me feeling like I’m on an acid trip,
From the Disney Channel to Nick Jr to Sprout TV & PBS Kids,
From Disney to Pixar to Dreamworks Studios,
to every animator, illustrator, computer programmer, and creative director,
to every person who modifies their voice to bring life to all of these characters,
to every adult dancer and singer who makes a fool of themselves dressing in costumes and “going bananas”,
(*cough The Wiggles, Hip Hop Harry & The Fresh Beat Band cough*)
to every CEO who makes money off of me for being a cable subscriber and a toy consumer
Bless them God. Seven times over. Bless them financially and more importantly creatively so they can continue to get better, more innovative, more fun!
So that we, the parents, the mamas, can continue to have our sanity held intact. So that we, the parents, the mamas, can have the brain cells we lose
every minute of every day
restored during those moments when the shows these valuable people put on
calm the wild
that rage, and yell, and scream, and cry, and whine and pout,
and leave us totally clueless as to what’s wrong with them ,
when it often turns out they are perfectly fine,
they just want to see us squirm and sweat, and get flustered, and cry, and gnash our teeth in frustration because
they are our offspring, our legacy, what we are leaving behind and we should NEVER
want to throw them through the wall like Mr. Incredible did to his boss
Where was I?
Bless those who you’ve blessed to create such awesome programming that entertains our children
while we use those precious moments to replace the brain cells that we’ve lost.
Let them know that they are indeed the best bench team I’ve ever had.
Their shows always come in the clutch when I need a game winning shot to keep my parenting hopes alive.
Let them know they are appreciated.
Let them know they are loved and celebrated.
Let them know that what they do is important to our national security.
Let them know that without them, the quality of a parent’s mental health would be far worse,
and let them know that as a parent who struggles greatly in the mental health department,
their shows play a key role in helping me be a good mother.
They are part of my coping arsenal.
Bless them God.
Oh wait: God? I don’t know how this whole afterlife & “who gets into heaven” thing works per se, but could you please make sure Steve Jobs is comfy
where ever he’s floating around at?
THANK YOU for the gifts you gave him, because if it weren’t for his iPad invention…..
I would’ve lost it in the middle of Wal-Mart on several of occasions…and I’ve only had the thing for like a month.
Anywhoo, please bless Steve Jobs.
* a Tuesday morning prayer by a frazzled, worn out, on the edge mama whose brain cells and sanity were saved this morning by Dora and her never ending stream of questions…
and the Bubble Guppies whose constant singing and dancing helped soothe my sick, cranky 19mo old. *