I tend to be a television-basher. I am usually against all things video box. I don’t like the idea of my children becoming zombies in front of a video entertainment box. I don’t like their attitudes when they disagree about what to put into the video box, or their attitudes when their favorites are turned off.
However, today, at this moment, the television just became my friend, and I just became the BAD momma.
For the past few weeks, my husband has attended play practice along with my oldest three children nearly every evening. I am home with my three youngest children, left alone to clean up from dinner, bathe the babies, get them ready for and into bed. Noah wants to spend the evenings snuggled up and nursing as this has been our habit; Jacob (nearly three) wants to get himself a snack and eat it in bed while we read books, Ethan (6) wants someone to help him do all the things that he is capable of doing himself, but also wants to help me in ways that really aren’t helpful, but are more just him getting in the way.
The more I try to console or entertain them and get them to cooperate, the worse my evening goes.
Last night, by the time Don came home I was exhausted and all three boys were still awake – all climbing on me while I tried to pretend to be asleep thinking maybe that would convince them to do likewise.
Today, I dreaded the moment my husband would leave.
I knew that Jacob would be screaming and throwing a fit because he wants to be with his daddy, and doesn’t like being left behind. I knew that Noah would be crying because I couldn’t give him my undivided attention. I knew that Ethan would be whining and complaining about having to clean off the table all by himself (it’s his chore, but his sister usually helps).
Ethan (with food still all over the table) was begging me to play chess with him, then I had an idea.
If Jacob would get ready for bed and Ethan would take care of the table, then I would put on a movie…
How did that sound?
Suddenly, they were acting like big boys, helping each other out and soon, they were sitting quietly on the couch waiting for the movie to start.
Now, all three (even Noah – the baby) are contentedly staring into the oblivion of the video box. No one is crying. I’m hiding in the dining room, eating a piece of chocolate cake by myself, having a glass of ice cold milk and updating my blog.
I’m only feeling slightly guilty.
Bad, bad momma using the TV as a babysitter.
But, I’ll take a deep breath and return to my children a better mommy because I won’t be screaming and crying and throwing a temper tantrum either.
TV Babysitter
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