Some of the best and funniest threads I have been involved in on social media are the ones when we are talking about television shows as we are watching them. Sad, but true. Not Offspring, though, because … wah!
But reality TV? Yeah, baby. That stuff yields some gold, and I find myself plunging into a social media, typing frenzy as like minded folk and I sit on the same virtual lounge, critiquing the shows, the scenarios and the contestants.
But behind all of that keyboard comradeship, there is this familiar feeling lurking in the shadows. A feeling like maybe I have lived through some of this reality TV torment myself at some time. An eerily familiar feeling of anxiety as deadlines loom closer, meals near completion, or as life changing decisions need to be made …
So, so familiar. But why?
I have never renovated an entire house, let alone completed a modern, stylish refurb with a clock ticking. 10 minutes to pick curtains? No chance – I’m a Libran.
I’ve never had to sing for my life – well, I mean, technically, neither have the contestants. Plus it’s yet to take me less than about 35 minutes to cook a Jamie Oliver 15 minute meal … so why does that anxiety ridden, race to the finish line feel like something I have done before?
Initially, when I tried to place it, I thought it may have been because I work in publishing. You know, deadlines and stuff. But it’s not that. We set realistic expectations for how long each of our posts are going to take. If you have to do an emergency run to hospital because your daughter has a piece of LEGO stuck in her ear – no drama, we can push that post back to 4pm, because #mumlyfe
Then it hit me. The pressure, the deadlines, the racing, the clock …
Holy. Fricking. Shit.
Can’t get your tiles on because the plasterer hasn’t been yet? THAT’S ME – only the tiles are school lunches and the plasterer is four missing lunch boxes.
Still painting cornices because you have ten minutes until Shayna gets there? AWMAIGAWD, THAT’S US TOO – only the cornices are a four-year-old’s pony tails and Shayna is a school bell that is about to ring before we have even made it into our car.
How about trying to please a table of jerk judges with a meal you have poured your heart and soul into, only to have them tell you it’s crap? Um … HELLO!
I mean, sure, I’ve never voted anyone out of my family … but that doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to, sometimes – and if Andy had been dating 25 other girls at the same time as me there would have been a lot more hair pulling than rose giving, IYKWIM.
But man, life with kids is a LOT like reality television.
Every. Single. Morning. My house is like the last 20 minutes before the judges arrive on The Block.
“Brush your teeth. I said BRUSH YOUR TEETH!”
“10 minutes guys, we need shoes. Where are your shoes?”
“Seriously, we are leaving in six minutes. Shit, where’s my keys?”
“RUBES, your bus. You’re gonna miss you … damn it. Now I have to drive you too.”
“Cael, Duke has your homework folde … Hang on, are you wearing underwear today? Dude! Pants.”
It’s hectic. That ‘get out of the door ‘deadline looms closer and closer, and every morning I am positive that there’s no way I will get it all done.
But I do.
Only at the end of the chaos at my place there is no shiny new tap wear. Just an ever-growing mound of Weetbix drying up under the table and a few more grey hairs. There’s certainly no $800k+ payday at the end of it … but that’s coming, right?
Do you like reality TV? What do you watch?
ps. Dear Stock Image Librarians, if you could please get some less shit images of families watching TV, that would be ace #toomuchsmiling #notenoughfighting #somuchpopcorn