Sunday Confessions: TV is the devil (food cake) of my home

I've had all kinds of ideas for my contribution to Diana's Sunday Confessions. Surprisingly [not at all, actually], most of them aren't really for the world wide web of readers who see me on a pretty regular basis. 

I mean, I could tell you about the time I shaved off one eyebrow because I wanted to see if my razor was dull.  Or that time I tucked my skirt into my underwear on a dare at this formal dinner thing, and got caught by the keynote speaker.  Or the time I thought I really didn't have to get my license plate renewed when I moved out of state. . .'cause like, who even checks that stuff?

The cops do, by the way.  They actually care about that stuff, a lot. 

But I think Sunday Confessions could be a chance for me to let something off my chest that's been bothering me for awhile, and you, my trusty readers could comment and tell me it's okay.  And that I'm normal.  And that you're not going to judge me and never come back to my blog again. . .

So here goes. . .deep breath. . .

My kids watch way too much TV.  I know, I know.  Who's don't, right?  Everyone's children watches more than the recommended 3.2 minutes of screen time each week for children under the age of 50.

But mine? Are serious boob-tube fantatics. And I'm totally to blame.

I'll justify it in my mind a hundred different ways.  I live in New England.  It's never nice outside.  We usually can't go out and play.  We only watch PBS.  That's educational, right?  Who's child has turned into a monster because of too much Curious George?  You find me someone that can play with two toddlers all day and not turn on the TV . . .at least once?  How am I going to make dinner? I mean, really. . .is a little TV worse than them starving?

At least that's how it started. . .

Now, it's morphed into two children, standing inches from a gigantic television, deeply engrossed in Toy Story.  Or whatever's playing on the thing.  I'm ashamed.

I know it's not good for them.  I'm an educated woman.  I read. I know what they say about children who watch too much TV.  And I don't want that.  But my confession truly is that I don't know how to get out of this downward TV spiral.

What's funny is that Bill and I used to be so strict with Cole about the amount of time we'd let him watch.  Only 30 minutes. . .that was it.  I try to think back about what we used to do all day.  Seriously.  It's tough. . .

And now? Oh my gosh.  On rainy days it's the worst.  I'll shut the TV off to sing songs or read books and Cole will give me that look. . .you know, that look.  That look that you give your mom when she's just acting crazy.  Maaa, you're crazy. 

I usually give that look to my mom when she's dusting the inside of the silverware drawer and standing on the kitchen floor she hasn't mopped in weeks.  It's that look.

When I notice Cole (or even Tills!) repeat something that I know they've seen on TV, that's when it hits me.  I have two little sponges in my care, who are capable of soaking up all of the wonderful things I make time to teach them.  And when I let life get the best of me, I'm cheating them of that. . .and they only have the TV to teach them.

Unacceptable.

So as you are my witnesses. . .the constant TV on the background of our life stops today.  Okay, okay. . .we'll start tomorrow.  They're in bed right now and I have dvr'd episodes of the Young & the Restless to watch.  And I'm going to really make a serious effort to remember how important it is that Bill and I be their first teachers. . .and take it seriously.

Because really?  This half-eye-slit-zombie-face thing they've been doing lately. . .

. . .must be their way of telling me they've seen enough.  Or more likely, I've got that double flash setting on my camera and they just know when to close thier eyes.  But it could be all that TV.  It could.

I think the best way for me to get a true handle on the situation is to think of TV as food (because we all know i respond to food!).  If TV were cheezy-puffs, I'd put a stop to that.  If TV were spoonfulls of sugar, that wouldn't fly, either.  So it's really high-time this kind of behavior stops as well.  It's a bad habit like anything else.

Phew.  That felt better.  Now off to watch my soaps.