A Confession

I learned something new yesterday.  Impressive, I know.  But since the Sesame Street lady tells us all to learn something new every day (which prompts me to yell at the TV EVERY MORNING…..”You can’t HELP but learn something new every day!  Just what is it you are learning?  And, by the way, if you only learn ONE THING?  Not so impressive!!!!!!), I’m glad I got it in!

I learned that I’m a terrible mom.

That I abuse my children.

That when I die?  Not going to heaven, apparently.

I wake my kids up each day at the very late for normal-large-families-who-live-in-the-country hour of 7 a.m.  I promise, though, that I didn’t know that this constitutes child abuse!

I let them begin each day with 30 minutes of playtime which, apparently, violates some rule of proper parenting.

They eat a delicious breakfast every morning that fills them up for the day, and they LOVE it!  Or so I thought.  But they must have been faking it because apparently this, too, is bad.

They get to attend school here at home.  Which means that they get to sit on the couch to do their reading.  They get to lie on the floor to do their math.  They get to go potty when they need to, without asking.  They get to ask questions whenever they want to.  They get to NOT get beat up on the playground.

For some reason, though, this falls into the abuse category.

They get to enjoy an unhurried, healthy, and yummy lunch.  They don’t have to be shunned by the “cool” kids and sit by themselves at a big, long table.  They get to sit with their 8 siblings at a big, long table.

But somehow, this is terrible to do to your kids.

They get to have a time each day when they are able to lie in their beds and read or play with Legos.  They get to listen to stories on CD and play with their dolls.

But this is also, apparently neglectful in some way.

They get to spend each afternoon outside, playing in the fresh country air (except when the wind is blowing from the east where the cows are).  They get to ride their bikes on the driveway and pull each other in the wagon and swing and climb trees and…….

I’m serious, though!  I didn’t know this was terrible for children!

But here’s the worst part.

They get to have a mom and dad who love them and dote on them and surprise them with kittens and have special times each week when we each do with them what THEY choose to do.

But, apparently, their lives are full of horror and despair.

Because yesterday, 6-Year-Old was being bothered by some sibling or other downstairs, and yelled this…..

“Stop being a bully to me!  My life is HAWIBLE already!”

I’ve gotta do something about that.  I’m determined to make their lives lovely and pleasant from now on.  I promise!