The other day I was explaining to Lily what I used to do for a living. Her father and I met getting our MAs in journalism at Indiana University. I used to write, edit and design for a newspaper in Northeast Indiana. I no longer write for a newspaper because newspapers are dying and don’t pay enough for me to afford putting the kids in daycare. Plus I wanted to stay home with my babies.
We don’t get a newspaper here because, ironically, I don’t really like receiving one now that I can get all my news off the internet. Yes, I am helping to destroy my own livelihood. It occurred to me that maybe Lily didn’t even know what a newspaper was because we don’t get one.
“Do you know what a newspaper is?” I asked her.
“No. What is it?”
She didn’t know! You’d think a former journalist would have made sure her almost 5 year old knew what a newspaper was.
I explained that a newspaper was a paper that was delivered to your house and it was full of stories about what was happening around the world. I said it was kind of like what Mommy and Daddy read on the computer (though we rarely share what it says) or watch on the tv when she comes down for breakfast in the morning.
I don’t think my explanation got through to her. I need to bring home a paper, but even then I’m not sure she’d understand.
I guess at this point I should just tell her that Mommy went to school to learn how to write things that other people read, which I suppose still holds true even with my modest readership here.