I can feel your judgmental eyes from across the room. By the way my two-year-old swipes, scrolls, and selects her viewing preference. It is obvious that this kind of habit isn’t out of the ordinary for us. It’s possible the thick rubber cased tablets belong to me and my husband, but you’re not buying it. How could you? My toddlers can operate the AppleTV remote better than their grandfather, and we don’t even make an effort to hide it.
That’s right, I am pro screen time. Even more so than I care to admit…
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but some days I’m a pretty freaking awesome mom. Some days I am basically superwoman in yoga pants. On my good days, I have handcrafted busy bags that keep my children entertained for hours. On my best days, I can keep them occupied with my imagination alone. Heck, I have days that I am a shining example of motherhood, a real-life Pinterest board of inspiration.
…..Not today. Not after this day. If I am being completely honest, the desire to even engage with my children after the day that we’ve had is bleak at best. #SorryNotSorry
We’ve bounced back from countless meltdowns. Words no longer seem to be a viable means of communication. We are bruised, but not broken, after more sibling fights than I can count. The amount of diffused conflicts applied parenting tactics, and visits to the calming corner have completely depleted my momming spirit.
So yes, I put a screen in front of their face as a last-ditch effort to keep my sanity intact. What’s left of it, at least.
Believe me, I know how this looks. I’m fully aware of the negative effects prolonged screen time can have. You are more than welcome to send me all the information your little heart desires, but no amount of research will change my decision. They’re getting screen time. I have no regrets.
In my opinion, do you want to know what’s worse than too much screen time? A MOMster.
…and she has just been chomping at the bit all day, waiting for the most inopportune moment to make her grand entrance.
I’m trying to channel my inner Tamara Levit. Really, I am. In a perfect world, I would endlessly pull patience out of a Mary Poppins type bag as I sing my way through the obstacles of the day. But alas, my voice does not resemble a songbird and my umbrella cannot fly me from errand to errand (which, for the record, might not even solve some of today’s hurdles).
So, here we are with Mr. PBS himself. (I’m kidding, it’s definitely Paw Patrol. It’s ALWAYS Paw Patrol.) Because today I feel like Mayor Humdinger trying to pull off a sneaky scheme: a total and utter disaster.
Tomorrow will be better, and I will do better.
In the meantime, I refuse to let guilt get the best of me. Lord knows I am mentally hanging on by a thread as it is. I know I’m a good mom, and I know I’m trying my best (even if my best today wasn’t that great). My children are happy and they are so loved.
More importantly, they KNOW they are loved.
I’m not going to throw all of that out the window over a blue light, and you shouldn’t either.
