I'm in big trouble. The American Academy of Pediatrics says children under 2 aren't supposed to watch TV. That's what this Washington Post story says. It's supposed to fry our brains or something. So they're whining over some new DVDs featuring Elmo, Big Bird and Cookie Monster aimed at my demographic. I think these doctors are nuts. As a certified Elmoholic, I see nothing wrong with planting myself in front of the set. There's even stuff with letters and numbers to force you to learn. If I couldn't watch videos, I'd spend even more time running around the house, throwing temper tantrums, bumping into things and falling. Isn't that dangerous too? Let one of these big-shot pediatricians come over my house and try to take care of me for a week. Within two days, he'd have me in front of the set and be begging me to watch some TV.
Meanwhile, tennis is my new game. I ran onto the court one day and the guy gave me a racket and I learned how to hit the ball. Then he gave me a baby racket. I hear there's big money in tennis for young girls. All I have to do is work on my backhand.

My name is Abby and I am an Elmoholic. I admit it. I have a problem. When I get in my high chair for breakfast, I must listen to Elmo music. When I go to bed at night, I must watch Elmo videos. I walk around putting Elmo stickers on things. I dance with my Hokey-Pokey Elmo doll. If I see anyone on the computer, I whine (in my lovable fashion) until they let me play Elmo games. He's red, furry and irresistible. It's Elmo's World and the rest of us just live in it. Maybe I should join a support group. Maybe I need a 12-step program. Does anyone else have this problem?

Now this takes the cake. The New York Times has this story about a guy who went to Yale and Harvard who's having trouble writing a little essay for his 18-month-old twins. This dumb grownup wrote about the boy: "He is happy to point out all his body parts when asked." (Spare me.) This is all about trying to get them into some fancy-pants preschool. My parents will never have that problem. All they have to do is submit my blog! Those schools will be banging on the door trying to recruit me.
Meanwhile, I've been practicing my jumping. This seems to produce great laughter all around. I guess because I don't get very far off the ground. Okay, I don't get off the ground at all. Somebody even muttered that "white babies can't jump." Well, I'll show them. I'll keep practicing until I can jump out the door and they have to chase me.