Introducing: Bunker's Burning Question
Filed under: Bunker's Burning Questions Author:
What does a hopeless insomniac lay awake thinking at night? This week, I've been wondering what time MJ will wake up and decide to rearrange the furniture in her room ... or in our room ... or most likely in the baby's room. But other nights, I am burdened with life's most difficult, pressing matters: If coffee suddenly became scarce, would I make it past noon? How long can I delay washing the whites before Randy is forced to go to work in flip flops and adult diapers? If a tree falls in the woods, would Diego rescue it?
Like I said: Burdened.
Fortunately, I have friends to turn to in such times of crisis -- a posse, if you will -- who have agreed to help relieve the heavy load I bear. They kind of rock. I thank them, and I present the Burning Question of the Week. Guests first!
You are stranded on an island with only your children and the current contents of your purse. If you could have three other things with you, what would you choose?
Barb: First of all, my purse would be of no help unless there is a store there that accepts Visa. Yes, I'm the mom you see in the public restroom layering her baby's soaked diaper with paper towels because I forgot to bring extra diapers. I'm really, really out of practice with the whole baby thing.
Becky: Maybe I should start carrying a bigger purse, as my small clutch's current contents are completely inadequate for island survival. Thankfully, it does hold a pen. So I'd need the thickest--yet lightest--journal possible to brain dump my thoughts, provide my daughter space to scribble and send her "emails" as she calls them.
Next, I'd ask for my XM satellite radio that would somehow have to work without electricity. But let's ignore that minor detail. Music endlessly inspires, entertains and distracts us, so this would be a must. We both love to dance and sing--she can really shake it! We'd never be complimented by strangers, though, so an island would provide the perfect refuge.
Lastly, my daughter's current lovey would join us. That'd either be Meno Kitty, Blue Rabbit, Pooh or Mimi Bear. It'd be tricky to get her to choose just one. We'd probably have to arrange some deal that another lovey could come along for the ride to the island--or to wherever we were headed before we got marooned. And there would be times when she'd want to go back and get it, and we'd discuss doing that when the boat--or plane--returns, and have that talk a million times until at one point I'd crack and say, "Because we can't! Sometimes life is just like that." Then I'd immediately regret those words, because she's only three, and the adult world of absolutes makes no sense to her. So then I'd give in to some other realistically impossible but beautifully pretend deal she'd no doubt barter. In the end, though, the one lovey would work wonders, and she'd have hours of fun bringing her friend on all sorts of imaginary adventures until I'm too exhausted to play island school for the hundredth time and try to enforce some sort of beach bedtime. All this ignores real survival stuff like Cheerios, apple juice and Dora yogurt. So in our island life, hunger would have to miraculously disappear or be appeased by fresh, plump tropical fruit that she'd love immediately and never grow tired of.
Brandi (who originally said she would bring her husband (good choice!), but probably decided he didn't qualify as a "thing." She's nice like that):
Janice: Well, the current contents of my purse would get us through the first year of being stranded. I have enough crackers, juice boxes, and raisins in my purse to give me a hernia on a daily basis - but hey, I always have to be prepared to extinguish any scream from the backseat! {Ed. note: and you can share with the rest of us! Yay!}
So now that food is covered ... I'll take the Dr. Suess Treasury book for lots of reading and the portable DVD player (assuming that we would have electrcity of course!) stocked with MANY files of shows. Hmmmmm and last.... my pillow. Maya and I love to nap and snuggle on it. And yes, of course, she has to hog most of it.
Lisa: My current purse is this bag from BUILT (http://tinyurl.com/2zyw6a) made out of neoprene so it is waterproof and floaty, the contents of which include lifesaving medications and crucial hair toys.
I'm stranded on a desert island and I'm bringing:
Beth: So, I am rummaging through my purse, which is actually a diaper bag (I haven't regularly carried a "purse" since high school, much to my mother's dismay), right this minute. And it turns out I should have padded it before asking this question. Here is what I have:
One package of wipes, no diapers (ironic?), one 4-oz packet of powdered Similac, stained bib, Q-tips, a few dirty plastic spoons, a Tide pen, a cell phone with a dead battery and this week's Sports Illustrated. (What? It's Final Four week.) I have no I.D. That's right, Mom, I forgot it again. I know, I know -- what if I had been stopped by the police on my way to the island, etc. I'm 35! Stop scolding me already. (Voice of my mom: I'll stop scolding you when you start remembering to take your wallet with you when you leave the house.)
I am totally bringing (1) my laptop, people. I assume that my husband will have gone ahead of me and set up the wireless Internet connection. It's a bold choice, I'll grant you, given that my battery only lasts six hours, and I will probably use up five of them reading that awful, awful Web site TMZ before e-mailing home to let everyone know we're lost. But at least I'll know what Brit-Brit is up to. And if you're on my island, I'll let you read over my shoulder. (You know you want to.) Oh, I almost forgot: the kids! I guess we'll need something for them. Fine. I will also cart along (2) fingerpaint! This is your chance to go crazy, MJ. The biggest canvas you've ever had, and the best part: I don't have to clean any walls later. Mother Nature shall be my housecleaner. And for Little L I will bring (3) a picture of Daddy. We're all going to miss that guy.
Wait a minute. Where is he, anyway? Why am I always the one stranded on an island alone with the kids?
Like I said: Burdened.
Fortunately, I have friends to turn to in such times of crisis -- a posse, if you will -- who have agreed to help relieve the heavy load I bear. They kind of rock. I thank them, and I present the Burning Question of the Week. Guests first!
You are stranded on an island with only your children and the current contents of your purse. If you could have three other things with you, what would you choose?
Barb: First of all, my purse would be of no help unless there is a store there that accepts Visa. Yes, I'm the mom you see in the public restroom layering her baby's soaked diaper with paper towels because I forgot to bring extra diapers. I'm really, really out of practice with the whole baby thing.
- Case of Tostitos Lime Tortilla Chips (aka Green Sour Chips)- The only thing that Big C will eat at the moment! Little C and I also think they are yummy.
- DVD Player with an unlimited supply of batteries and Disney DVDs- Big C would never say another word except to ask me to open another bag of Green Sour Chips.
- All future issues of OK and InTouch magazine... my secret obsession. Little C also loves to be read to... who needs Dr. Seuss! {Ed. note: Green Eggs & Brangelina.}
Becky: Maybe I should start carrying a bigger purse, as my small clutch's current contents are completely inadequate for island survival. Thankfully, it does hold a pen. So I'd need the thickest--yet lightest--journal possible to brain dump my thoughts, provide my daughter space to scribble and send her "emails" as she calls them.
Next, I'd ask for my XM satellite radio that would somehow have to work without electricity. But let's ignore that minor detail. Music endlessly inspires, entertains and distracts us, so this would be a must. We both love to dance and sing--she can really shake it! We'd never be complimented by strangers, though, so an island would provide the perfect refuge.
Lastly, my daughter's current lovey would join us. That'd either be Meno Kitty, Blue Rabbit, Pooh or Mimi Bear. It'd be tricky to get her to choose just one. We'd probably have to arrange some deal that another lovey could come along for the ride to the island--or to wherever we were headed before we got marooned. And there would be times when she'd want to go back and get it, and we'd discuss doing that when the boat--or plane--returns, and have that talk a million times until at one point I'd crack and say, "Because we can't! Sometimes life is just like that." Then I'd immediately regret those words, because she's only three, and the adult world of absolutes makes no sense to her. So then I'd give in to some other realistically impossible but beautifully pretend deal she'd no doubt barter. In the end, though, the one lovey would work wonders, and she'd have hours of fun bringing her friend on all sorts of imaginary adventures until I'm too exhausted to play island school for the hundredth time and try to enforce some sort of beach bedtime. All this ignores real survival stuff like Cheerios, apple juice and Dora yogurt. So in our island life, hunger would have to miraculously disappear or be appeased by fresh, plump tropical fruit that she'd love immediately and never grow tired of.
Brandi (who originally said she would bring her husband (good choice!), but probably decided he didn't qualify as a "thing." She's nice like that):
- Boppy pillow
- Baby Bjorn
- Lots of water {the unsalted kind!}
Janice: Well, the current contents of my purse would get us through the first year of being stranded. I have enough crackers, juice boxes, and raisins in my purse to give me a hernia on a daily basis - but hey, I always have to be prepared to extinguish any scream from the backseat! {Ed. note: and you can share with the rest of us! Yay!}
So now that food is covered ... I'll take the Dr. Suess Treasury book for lots of reading and the portable DVD player (assuming that we would have electrcity of course!) stocked with MANY files of shows. Hmmmmm and last.... my pillow. Maya and I love to nap and snuggle on it. And yes, of course, she has to hog most of it.
Lisa: My current purse is this bag from BUILT (http://tinyurl.com/2zyw6a) made out of neoprene so it is waterproof and floaty, the contents of which include lifesaving medications and crucial hair toys.
I'm stranded on a desert island and I'm bringing:
- Swiss Army Card Lite (http://tinyurl.com/2e7ccg) - Includes all the essential tools for cracking open a tasty coconut as well as disarming whatever Dharma Initiative-brand poisonous gas stations I come across (I watch too much television). {Ed. note: I don't believe that's possible.}
- Tube of Darice glo-bracelets - If every girl has a light, every girl is all right. Fashion colors will match tropical plants used for clothing.
- Potette folding potty (http://www.potette.com/) - Since the only thing I can guarantee in this life is that my children will be well hydrated, we will also need to potty. This one folds up really tiny so we won't mind dragging it around the island.
Beth: So, I am rummaging through my purse, which is actually a diaper bag (I haven't regularly carried a "purse" since high school, much to my mother's dismay), right this minute. And it turns out I should have padded it before asking this question. Here is what I have:
One package of wipes, no diapers (ironic?), one 4-oz packet of powdered Similac, stained bib, Q-tips, a few dirty plastic spoons, a Tide pen, a cell phone with a dead battery and this week's Sports Illustrated. (What? It's Final Four week.) I have no I.D. That's right, Mom, I forgot it again. I know, I know -- what if I had been stopped by the police on my way to the island, etc. I'm 35! Stop scolding me already. (Voice of my mom: I'll stop scolding you when you start remembering to take your wallet with you when you leave the house.)
I am totally bringing (1) my laptop, people. I assume that my husband will have gone ahead of me and set up the wireless Internet connection. It's a bold choice, I'll grant you, given that my battery only lasts six hours, and I will probably use up five of them reading that awful, awful Web site TMZ before e-mailing home to let everyone know we're lost. But at least I'll know what Brit-Brit is up to. And if you're on my island, I'll let you read over my shoulder. (You know you want to.) Oh, I almost forgot: the kids! I guess we'll need something for them. Fine. I will also cart along (2) fingerpaint! This is your chance to go crazy, MJ. The biggest canvas you've ever had, and the best part: I don't have to clean any walls later. Mother Nature shall be my housecleaner. And for Little L I will bring (3) a picture of Daddy. We're all going to miss that guy.
Wait a minute. Where is he, anyway? Why am I always the one stranded on an island alone with the kids?
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