Not only am I the worst mother ever, now I get to wear the coveted badge of meanest mother ever, too.
Remember when you were a kid, and you woke up Saturday morning at exactly half past way too early and ran down the stairs into your wood-paneling covered living room and poured yourself a big ol' bowl of Pac Man cereal and grabbed a wire hanger to shove into the back of your tv and plopped down on the orange (or green, if your parents were classy) extra-shag carpet and turned that tv dial no less than 5,719 times to get to the one and only channel on the one and only day that broadcast cartoons?
No? Well, you're too young to be reading this, then.
Yes, well so do I. And now my kids do, too.
I used to forbid tv on schoolnights. Period. The tv went off Sunday after dinner and didn't come back on, except for news, until Friday night. And then my kids started in with the Discovery Channel. Who says no to that? And then one of them went and taught himself how to read adult level geek cheat books at age 7 in order to kick Zelda's ass, and I'm not the only one who thought that was note-worthy, nigh rewardable. I caved. Slowly, almost unnoticeably, they reclaimed the boob tube.
The situation became grim, and my husband and I had to make some "serious decisions." The kids had sat on their asses one too many times, not getting ready for Little League, making us late, having lost a mitt, and he'd just had it. We put them to bed and spent the night "hashing it out." We came to the conclusion that we are the proud parents of two ungrateful spoiled children who don't know how good they have it. I mean, when he was a kid, he had to be out the door at 4 to hit the pool for swim team. I had to have my little brothers and sisters ready to go before I left at 6:15 for my bus. He had to walk 15 miles in the snow oh my god we are our parents.
We "got it all sorted out" and then we went to bed.
And that was our biggest mistake.
We had stayed up entirely too late "making decisions"* and we sort of overslept. And by sort of, I mean I woke up 7 minutes before school began. I ran downstairs, frantically checked my email**, and then found both of my children wide awake, playing fucking Mario or something, in their jammies, not at all ready for school.
They are 8 and 10. It is still technically my job to get them up and ready, but when mom has one long night, I assume they will at least look at a clock. Hells nos. They were busy. I was pissed.
They made it out the door in less than 10 minutes and when they came home that afternoon, guess what? They had lost tv privileges. Like, forever.
We are reverting back to my old rule about no tube during the week. They survived one week intact. They crammed as much as they could get in this weekend, and tomorrow begins week two. God help me.
As if that isn't enough, Princess-TheWorldIsMyOyster-Cup found out the definition of the word Big Girl the other day. Guess who isn't in a crib anymore? Guess who also had to break up with her bottles? That's right. I am cruel. Someone call Child Services.
I converted her crib to the toddler bed. I didn't ask her, or tell her, I just did it. Night one, she was too busy being pissed off about no bottle to notice. Night two she kept asking for Big Wall. What is Big Wall? The missing side of her crib. Tonight went much better. She didn't whine at me at all. Of course, it's 11:13 and as I type this there is a dirty Q-Tip being shoved up my nose, but at least she isn't crying. Surprisingly enough, she took to a sippy cup of water instead of a bottle of milk with no trouble at all.
Oh, wait, now there's TWO Q-Tips. One for each nostril. At least it's balanced now.
I think that I have had a personal revelation or two as of late, but yeah...no Q-Tips in that story. Maybe another day.
*If you haven't figured out what the " 's are alluding to yet, maybe you really ARE too young to be here.
**Shut up. You'd do it, too, and you know it.