Occasionally, I gaze at the chaotic whirlwind that is my home life and think, “This would make for captivating reality TV content.” A show about us? Absolutely not. Here’s why:
- In my household, my children have a rather relaxed view on attire, often opting for a clothing-optional lifestyle at home.
- I’m raising three boys, all of whom seem to have an endless fascination with bodily functions. Just the other day, my eldest asked the youngest, “What’s half poodle and half poodle?” to which he enthusiastically replied, “Poo Poo!”
- There are moments when I lose track of my youngest. While I’m busy in the kitchen, he might be exploring the bathroom, usually resulting in a mess involving wet wipes or scaling the top bunk. If this were televised, I might expect a visit from Child Protective Services. (I do try to keep bathroom doors locked and the ladder stowed away after he wakes up to prevent any tumbles.)
- Other times, I know exactly where he is—standing triumphantly on a chair at the kitchen counter. And yes, I’m often there snapping photos.
- Volume control is a foreign concept in our home. It’s quite loud, with one child’s exuberant volume level being particularly noteworthy. I can actually feel the vibration in my eardrums! Sleep isn’t quiet either; the other night, my son was shouting variations of “Mama” from his bed for two straight minutes. However, when he follows that with a heartfelt, “I love you,” how can I not melt?
- My boys adore Legos, which I fully support as it fosters their creativity and problem-solving skills. However, I now have Legos scattered everywhere. Our once-formal dining room has been transformed into a Lego haven. I laugh at real estate shows when couples dream of entertaining in spaces that are now overrun with toys. I wouldn’t want cameras capturing the moment I “accidentally” vacuum a few up.
- School drop-offs are often a fashion statement in pajamas—mine included. Just last week, my middle child only wore his underwear for the school run. Clearly, clothing is optional for all of us, and I often drive with one hand while clutching my coffee in the other.
- While the cameras might capture tender moments, like my middle son gently patting his brother’s face while whispering “I love you,” I fear they’d focus more on the chaotic scenes: the boys fighting or my frantic morning shouts of “Where are your shoes? Brush your teeth! Hurry!”
- Breakfast at our house can be unconventional. My middle child frequently requests items like popcorn or even tilapia to start his day.
- I find myself reaching for the plunger nearly every day, whether it’s due to an influx of wet wipes or random toys making their way into the toilet. The tales could be endless.
- My home is “company clean” for a mere four hours each month, thanks to a bi-monthly housekeeper. Yet, I must clean up before the housekeeper arrives. The result? A spotless home for about five minutes post-school pick-up. It’s never “ready for the world to see” clean.
- There was that one time I accidentally locked my eldest son and my cell phone in the car while at a department store. Thankfully, a kind stranger called the fire department, and my son slept through the eight-minute wait for help. At that moment, I couldn’t help but think how fortunate I was not to be a celebrity like Britney Spears, constantly followed by cameras.
What would your household reveal if cameras were rolling?
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In summary, reality television could never capture the true essence of my daily life, which oscillates between chaos and tender moments. The reality of parenting often feels far too messy for the spotlight.
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