Mumsaid judge not lest ye be judged...part two.
I am a terrible mother.
Here's why:
1) Sometimes my children are up past 8pm.
2) When feverish or teething, my children take children's acetaminophen. And it's red. And they like it.
3) They have had all of their shots.
4) My daughter goes topless at home.
5) I don't shut the blinds OR the front door.
6) We don't wind up the cords from the blinds either. They dangle freely like vines in a jungle.
7) My children have both painted before age 2. And used crayons. And markers. And glue. It tastes good.
8) My children eat Happy Meals. Chicken nuggets have white meat in them, never mind the percentage that is actual meat.
9) Apple Dippers? WTF?? I stopped asking if they'd like Apple Dippers. They wanted fries. And now Apple Dippers come in Happy Meals anyway.
10) Our vegetables and fruits are not organic.
11) Our meat may or may not be grass fed. I never asked.
12) I am lucky if I can get Green Warrior to eat said pesticide-laden vegetables. Sometimes that part of the Food Pyramid only has apple sauce in it. But without corn syrup. I have limits, you know.
13) At my house, you may be invited to "drink the Kool-Aid." And it's red. And we like it.
14) We love those cheap popsicles in the plastic tubes. Especially the red ones.
15) Our sippy cups are plastic too.
16) Diapers are disposable.
17) And so are wipes, paper towels, and...mom stuff. (Those feminine cup things make me feel ill.)
18) When my kids drop cookies/crackers on the floor at home, they pick it up and eat it because it's "our dirt."
19) My children love Ramen noodles. MMmmmmm...MSG.
20) They also love Froot Loops, barbeque potato chips (did you know that certain brands have MSG?), and chocolate milk.
21) Puddles are to play in. So is mud.
22) My children have scars from falling down and bruises from climbing.
23) We use laundry detergent. It's how you wash clothes.
24) My children hear me swear. And cry. And laugh. And talk about people who are dumbasses.
25) We find humor in things the cat used to bring home, living or dead, disemboweled or not.
26) Speaking of the cat...we have a sandbox without a lid. And we play in it.
27) Our cat was feral. She found us. So she came and went as she pleased.
28) My daughter's first chore was to feed the cat. Sometimes she fed the cat Goldfish crackers. She's good at sharing.
29) My son watches videos of people playing video games. They're British, so their swearing is nicer.
30) My son was invited to disassemble the broken weed-eater. It was fun. Cell phones, when broken, can be played with for hours.
31) I actually try to get him to drink soda. Just to try it.
32) We used to write on the fridge with dry erase marker. And color. And write spelling words. (Until Pattergirl found a permanent marker. We haven't written a decent grocery list since.)
33) Pattergirl is allowed to play with toys that are not for children under 3.
34) Sometimes I don't brush her hair. Ok, I usually don't brush her hair.
I am certain there are more reasons I am a terrible mother, but I'll stop for now...I'm going to go play with my kids.
Here's why:
1) Sometimes my children are up past 8pm.
2) When feverish or teething, my children take children's acetaminophen. And it's red. And they like it.
3) They have had all of their shots.
4) My daughter goes topless at home.
5) I don't shut the blinds OR the front door.
6) We don't wind up the cords from the blinds either. They dangle freely like vines in a jungle.
7) My children have both painted before age 2. And used crayons. And markers. And glue. It tastes good.
8) My children eat Happy Meals. Chicken nuggets have white meat in them, never mind the percentage that is actual meat.
9) Apple Dippers? WTF?? I stopped asking if they'd like Apple Dippers. They wanted fries. And now Apple Dippers come in Happy Meals anyway.
10) Our vegetables and fruits are not organic.
11) Our meat may or may not be grass fed. I never asked.
12) I am lucky if I can get Green Warrior to eat said pesticide-laden vegetables. Sometimes that part of the Food Pyramid only has apple sauce in it. But without corn syrup. I have limits, you know.
13) At my house, you may be invited to "drink the Kool-Aid." And it's red. And we like it.
14) We love those cheap popsicles in the plastic tubes. Especially the red ones.
15) Our sippy cups are plastic too.
16) Diapers are disposable.
17) And so are wipes, paper towels, and...mom stuff. (Those feminine cup things make me feel ill.)
18) When my kids drop cookies/crackers on the floor at home, they pick it up and eat it because it's "our dirt."
19) My children love Ramen noodles. MMmmmmm...MSG.
20) They also love Froot Loops, barbeque potato chips (did you know that certain brands have MSG?), and chocolate milk.
21) Puddles are to play in. So is mud.
22) My children have scars from falling down and bruises from climbing.
23) We use laundry detergent. It's how you wash clothes.
24) My children hear me swear. And cry. And laugh. And talk about people who are dumbasses.
25) We find humor in things the cat used to bring home, living or dead, disemboweled or not.
26) Speaking of the cat...we have a sandbox without a lid. And we play in it.
27) Our cat was feral. She found us. So she came and went as she pleased.
28) My daughter's first chore was to feed the cat. Sometimes she fed the cat Goldfish crackers. She's good at sharing.
29) My son watches videos of people playing video games. They're British, so their swearing is nicer.
30) My son was invited to disassemble the broken weed-eater. It was fun. Cell phones, when broken, can be played with for hours.
31) I actually try to get him to drink soda. Just to try it.
32) We used to write on the fridge with dry erase marker. And color. And write spelling words. (Until Pattergirl found a permanent marker. We haven't written a decent grocery list since.)
33) Pattergirl is allowed to play with toys that are not for children under 3.
34) Sometimes I don't brush her hair. Ok, I usually don't brush her hair.
I am certain there are more reasons I am a terrible mother, but I'll stop for now...I'm going to go play with my kids.
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