When I travel to an unfamiliar city in the US, I do two things as quickly as feasible: find a Starbucks and find NPR on the radio. There's something about the familiarity of Lakshmi Singh updating the news while I sip espresso that just let's me relax. As if, no matter how lost we get, how bad the weather is, or how odd the locals are, it's all going to be ok. 'Cause there's Lakshmi saying "this is NPR" and there's that trusty mermaid. (Yes, I'm from central casting for "Seattlite" - except I don't like to kayak).
These are called - and I'm sure some psych student will correct me - "transfer objects." They're objects that one attaches a sense of soothing and well-being to, like the classic security blanket or stuffed animal of a toddler. And if you doubt these have power, I invite you to come to my house around 8pm and see what happens when Mommy and Daddy can't find "hippo."
As a newlywed, in graduate school full time and in an empty apartment most of the day, I realized I have another transfer object: television. It almost didn't matter what was on, I just had to have it on. I wouldn't even watch it - ok, except for Oprah and All My Children (which my mother claims I watched in-utero, so, ya know, gotta keep up with Ms. Kane). The TV just had to be on. In a strange way it kept me company, kind of like NPR on a long drive.
And yet, I haven't really watched daytime television since having kids - the whole "tv rots toddler's brains" thing gave me enough guilt to shut the thing off when the kiddos are about. And they're about, well, all the time.
As a newlywed, in graduate school full time and in an empty apartment most of the day, I realized I have another transfer object: television. It almost didn't matter what was on, I just had to have it on. I wouldn't even watch it - ok, except for Oprah and All My Children (which my mother claims I watched in-utero, so, ya know, gotta keep up with Ms. Kane). The TV just had to be on. In a strange way it kept me company, kind of like NPR on a long drive.
And yet, I haven't really watched daytime television since having kids - the whole "tv rots toddler's brains" thing gave me enough guilt to shut the thing off when the kiddos are about. And they're about, well, all the time.
Yet, this whole past week, I've had the TV on every. day. And I've learned two things:
1. There really is nothing on at 2pm. This has always seemed to be the case. Apparently everyone in network TV programming takes naps at the exact time my son does.
2. I'm more anxious about this whole book thing than I thought.
I'm running back to my old transfer object friend like my kid to his hippo. Apparently the copious amounts of Trader Joe's dark chocolate with hazelnuts and my french pressed coffee have not had their usual effect.
But I suppose I can give myself some grace here. Publishing a book's a vulnerable thing and Erica Kane and Oprah aren't around to console me any more.
So come this Tuesday, June 4th, my book will be for sale. And I will be on my couch raising a glass with Hoda and Kathie Lee. And trying with all my might to not check Amazon.
1. There really is nothing on at 2pm. This has always seemed to be the case. Apparently everyone in network TV programming takes naps at the exact time my son does.
2. I'm more anxious about this whole book thing than I thought.
I'm running back to my old transfer object friend like my kid to his hippo. Apparently the copious amounts of Trader Joe's dark chocolate with hazelnuts and my french pressed coffee have not had their usual effect.
But I suppose I can give myself some grace here. Publishing a book's a vulnerable thing and Erica Kane and Oprah aren't around to console me any more.
So come this Tuesday, June 4th, my book will be for sale. And I will be on my couch raising a glass with Hoda and Kathie Lee. And trying with all my might to not check Amazon.
RSS Feed