You would think after 8 months with BabyA that I would've learned that one cannot pay close attention to Television Events and parent. Generally these days, I tend to catch bits and pieces of shows, but rarely an entire coherent narrative. So what in the hay-ell, you might ask, possessed me to think that I could watch the Oscars? While caring for sick baby, and making supper, and unpacking a new breadmaker, with the intention of making bread? That, my friends, is a most question.
Here's the thing - I love, love, love watching the Oscars. If I knew enough other people in this town who also loved the Oscars, I would host a party with those tiny little hors d'oeuvres and lots of alcohol and an Oscar pool. I would even host movie nights before the Oscars, just so we could all see the movies that have been nominated. I'm not sure why I love them so much, because I haven't usually seen all, or even most of the nominated movies. I usually end up just cheering for whatever I've seen. But I get a crazy kick of watching people dress up in ridiculously expensive and beautiful outfits and celebrate the wackiness that is Hollywood.
This year, I got to spend the evening with GeekDad who patiently sat through hours of boring entertainment stuff', and even gave me updates of what was happening while I unpacked groceries and made dinner.
"OK, now it's the best soundtrack. OK,. there's two songs from Slumdog, and one from Wall-E. OK, the one from Slumdog won."
All this while entertaining a slightly manic and sickly baby. The man is a gem, I tell you
I really didn't get to watch much of the Oscar broadcast at all - it was more like the they were soundtrack for my evening of doing other stuff. My overall impressions were lots of Hugh Jackman (which is NEVER a bad thing) and musicals (which is slightly more questionable). I think that the Oscar producers were/are trying to get back to an old-school dramatic feel, as opposed to the kind of cynical, self-reflexive comedy that they've gone with in recent years. Unfortunately, I didn't actually see enough of the broadcast to tell you whether or not it was successful. I came in about the time that Kunio Kato ended his acceptance speech for best animated short with "Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto," and you know, I think that may have been the high point of the evening. By the time the big awards were on, BabyA had reached her limit, and we were off prepping her for bed.
Which brings me to what was the defining not for my weekend. BabyA's cold has reached that point where she is too stuffed up to breastfeed, and despite our best efforts at nasal hydration and homeopathic remedies, any attempts at feeding result in frustration on both our parts. I find it heart breaking, because I know she feels shitty, and I want nothing more than to comfort her, but everytime I try to cuddle her, she seems to become frustrated that I can't giver her what she wants. GeekDad actually rocked her to sleep for the first time tonight, which I'm ever so grateful for. I just wish it were under less stressful circumstances. All I can say is that I this had better not be a result of teething, because DAMN. This sick baby stuff is rough on all of us.