you're bugging me (or: here, have a cookie)
I am the worst sort of person. When I am weary of my children or simply need them to be busy long enough for me to perform some mundane task such as empty the dishwasher, tweeze my eyebrows or take a deep breath to keep from screaming my head right off of my body, I will offer them a morsel of delight. Could be candy but could also be fruit. They're just as happy with a succulent orange as they are a box of chocolates.
The problem is, if you haven't heard, The Parent Rule Book (of which there is no hard copy) clearly states in Section 6, Subsection 4.5:
No Parent (referring primarily to the Mother but also in some rare cases the Father)shall ever use food in place of proper parenting. Neither shall She use any device such as a television, video game, computer or the like as a Babysitter for any or all of her children at any time under any circumstances (some exceptions apply, please see Section 6, Subsection 4.7 of The Parent Rule Book for further details).
I am so not following that rule. Or Subsection 4.7 either, to be honest. And if You've read the Parenting Rule Book you know this consistues dismissal from the Superior Mommy Society. I've managed to keep my failings a secret until now. It just got to be too draining keeping up the charade. I had to confess my sins.
My mom either didn't know about The Parenting Rule Book or thumbed her nose at it Nineteen Seventies Defiance. Whatever the case I remember being given a cigarette package to chew on by way of keeping me busy and you know that shit don't measure up.
Look, we all know parenting is a lot harder than it looks from the next booth at McDonalds when you're twenty and full of shit thinking you'd handle That Woman's kids way better than she does. And I never meant to feed my children snackies while they sat glued to the television so that I could read blogs and drink hot chocolate made from a powder mix. I always thought I'd be Super Mom. I thought I would read them Shakespeare and play classical music as we sipped our morning orange juice and discussed world events. Turns out if you didn't do it before you had kids you're not likely to after. Who wants a bunch of snotty Shakespeare reading orange juice sippin' little brats running around humming Mozart anyway?
That my Son knows John Kerry is a Good Man and George Bush is a Bad Man speaks to the fact that I am a good parent after all. I think an occassional cracker offered out of desperation for quiet rather than with a purely nutritional intent is fine as long as the important stuff is getting said. And in my house, we're very serious about Good versus Evil. Believe that.
posted by Style Me Organized at
Thursday, November 11, 2004
