Firsts…/TV

We went away this weekend to rural Massachusetts. It was rainy and chilly and beautiful, and we used the escape to get back to a healthier lifestyle: eating lots of salad, and waking early to go hiking through the spongy muddy woods.

Last night, exhausted, I flipped on the tv in our room. I was lying back on the double white pillows, watching sharks plunge through rivers to scoop up salmon, water splashing as they pushed deep down into silver schools of fish, when I felt a little push of my own – a “kick” (in quotes because it felt more like a gentle nudge, than something as violent as a kick)! I’ve felt vague goldfishy-type movement before, subtle sensations of a living thing residing in my stomach – but this- this was definite! It was exciting. I’ve spent all waking hours since then with a protective, possessive hand on my smallish belly, you know – the this-is-a-living-creature-under-my-palm-not-four-servings-of-desert pregnant lady hand position…

I tried to decide if the timing of the kick meant the baby was excited by the television (which we do not have in our home), or angered by it – was it a Yaacov or Eisev in the belly kick, if you remember that little pregnancy midrash…

When I tell our child this story, I think I’ll interpret it as the latter – with all the suffering and scars, there are a few vestiges of my religious upbringing that I do value, and my aversion for TV is one of those. In fact, I worry about my ability to guide my modern, secular child to a critical understanding of this pervasive medium. I guess I’m hopeful that all the other elements of secularism that I have added to my life – including an appreciation for honest open dialogue and free will to learn and make mistakes on one’s own -will help lead my child to a healthy relationship with the TV.

But for now, little baby, you’re trapped in my belly, and we’re back home, where I get to keep you (and me)  TV-free for a few months, at least!