Limit screen time.
Monitor that limited screen time.
Healthy meals.
Soccer. Softball. T-Ball. Girl Scouts. JROTC. STEAM Club.
Damn you little calendar thing that I always forget to write on.
Lately I've been reading parenting blogs on Pinterest. I've been analyzing how families run on television shows. I've been watching families in public and have analyzed how the mother's do things..
What snacks she packs..
What she's wearing..
If her hair is perfect- if her children's hair is perfect..
Looking at moms in their minivans, wondering if their cars are spotless and organized..
Zooming in on other friends pictures on Facebook and just staring in "awe" at how clean and perfect their living room is..
Don't even get me started on the perfect- PERFECT- people and families I saw in Publix yesterday...
Overwhelming.
Paisley was caught with her tablet last night in her bed after bedtime. Not only was she in trouble for watching her tablet after bedtime, but she was watching a tablet she was ALREADY grounded for. Have you ever paid attention to what your child watches on YouTube? I didn't. I mean, I heard the horror stories before but I assumed if my kids were watching YouTube and some weird, demonic girl popped up, they would just turn it off. I mean, my kids have their tablets because there are moments in my life where I need a breather.. My "touch, talk, EVERYTHING" tank is completely full and I absolutely LOVE my kids but sometimes I need them to GO AWAY. That's why manufactures make tablets.. for mothers who need their kids to GO AWAY. Cast your stones, Karen. I am just speaking the truth.
Anyways, one evening I was picking out outfits for Kenzie and Taytum (they share a room with Paisley) and Paisley was in bed watching YouTube from her bed on her smart tv (..its small AND we got it on sale). All of a sudden I hear this girl talking about jail and butt cheeks. This girl has to be no older than eight years old and here she is talking about jail and butt cheeks. I was like a deer in the headlights. I was completely shocked. Not only is this a child, but she is also holding an Ana and Elsa barbie doll- totally relatable to children, but before I could react she throws a video clip of Orange is the New Black on the screen. I almost tripped over myself to get the remote and turn it off.
I watched the first season of Orange is the New Black. I almost went to mass to repent.. and I am not even Catholic. I am an adult, but I am not THAT adult. I will be the first one to drop the f bomb in a conversation full of Karen's and Kristen's but I was fully embarrassed while watching OITNB. The entire time it was on I felt like my mom was going to bust into my house- you know the one I pay to live in as an adult- and ground me.
To say I was shocked that a child was showing clips of this show would be a complete understatement. I was blown away. I asked Paisley if she had ever watched Orange is the New Black and she said no. I believe her, but, regardless, I don't know where that video was going but I know it wasn't good. There is no telling what YouTube is exposing our kids too. There really isn't any good way to fix the issue either. You can download the kid's YouTube but these shows ARE for kids. They look like kids, they act like kids, but they discuss adult matter. Kid's YouTube is just as bad as the real deal. The best I can do is teach my children what is appropriate and what isn't appropriate so that they will know when to turn it off/walk away/etc. The reality is, if they aren't watching it in my home then they are exposed to it elsewhere- either by friends watching/talking about these inappropriate subjects or whatever it is, and I need my kids to learn to turn a cheek, walk away, change the subject, whatever.
So, here I am contemplating what I am doing wrong. My sweet, innocent Paisley was watching some crazy YouTube video which is probably not near as bad as others that she might have very well already been exposed too. My children as young as Taytum walk around with tablets, phones, chromebooks- you name it- and watch these videos.
I was passing out snacks for my "snack kids" [school aged child who requires a daily snack at school] and I look down at our snack box and it's full of teddy grahams, cupcake flavored gold fish, imitation cheese and crackers, Oreos, Chips Ahoy, Fudge rounds.. I didn't pack a single fresh fruit or No GMO, No Gluten, No SHIT snack. I let my kids pick all the things they loved. Damn you, Karen and your peanut butter and celery eating children.
This morning I promise Hayden and Paisley brushed their hair.. but then they put on their toboggans (not even toboggan weather) and I am pretty sure their hair looked like my Chow's ass from my childhood by the time they made it to school. Oh, and I am that Mom that send's her kids on that big, yellow school bus every morning.
In college I had to write a parody on Donte's Inferno. I had to write a comparison on what my level of hell would be. As a college student my level of hell was something to do with ever evolving midterms, shortage of Roman Noodles and cold McDonalds coffee.
I was wrong.
Waaaaaay wrong.
Hell is sitting in a car rider line watching the dirty gym squint as he attempts to read a tiny car rider number from one thousand and fifty car rider tags hanging from every minivan in the county's rearview mirror.
Not doing it. Ever.
Kuddos to you, Karen, for sitting in that line three hours before school dismissal while you crochet blankets for freezing children in Ethiopia. I can't do it. Not now, not later. Never.
School bus for everyone.
And I mean everyone.
I think they send a bus just for our kids... all ten of them (eleven next year).
My kids had chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs for dinner. I don't know what a GMO is but I am pretty sure they are probably packed full of them.
That Tyrannosaurus Rex probably ate those GMO's for lunch before finding himself slap dab in the middle of my child's Frozen plate.
I let Zeek watch the Walking Dead tonight. I couldn't remember if there were any sex scenes, but Dustin said there wasn't. He said it was rated MA because of the blood, gore and violence. I shrugged it off and said, "eh, it's okay".
What the hell, Page.
Oh, and my car.
Let's not got there.
Seriously.
Don't go in there because the passenger van currently smells like a landfill on a hot, summer day because we had a gallon of milk leak out last month after picking up the groceries. My Honda van has enough Fruit Loops and mushed Poptarts to end world hunger.
The point is.. motherhood is hard.
I constantly find myself comparing myself to other moms. I am constantly beating myself up for not having the most organized house, newest technology, cleanest car, or Downtown Abby worthy outfits. I base my worth off the worth of others, and the truth is- people rarely broadcast their struggles on social media. HGTV isn't going to have a "normal" house on a show because normal is boring. Chip and Joanah houses are what people want to see. Nobody tells people how many Cheerios they had to rake out of the floorboard of their minivan before carpool. We keep all that stuff hidden from one another because we are embarrassed that maybe, JUST maybe, people will find out that we don't have it all together like our Facebook pictures claim.
Well, I am here to tell you. I don't have it all together. Most days my "together" is binded together with an Elmer's glue stick, but you know what...
My kids are safe, fed, and loved. My kids, though some days might absolutely hate my guts because I wouldn't dare let them leave the house in a crop top or I hate me because I didn't drop a grand on an iPhone that cost more than my first semester of college, know that I absolutely eat, breathe, and sleep about them. They know that I will never give up on them, nor will I give up on this mother role that I've grabbed a hold of by the horns.
I absolutely love being that failing mom that loves their kids hard and screws up often.
We, as mothers, have to start lifting each other up. I am just as guilty of judging Karen for being THAT perfect carpool mom. I have to stop judging and embrace all the moms and all their ways of doing stuff. Contrary to popular belief, we are all fucking failing at this mom thing, and we could use all the support we can get.
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