This woman can't be bothered to get up because she's watching a "Real Housewives" marathon. Her kids should be placed in a foster home. Pathetic lazy crap. She's freaking tired. Her kids asked to be born, right? She was FORCED to have kids. This is why we're in the shape we're in.
Plus this shiftless twat is giving advice, peddling her lifestyle like a beggar in a sweatsuit that you avoid on your way to the train. You had children and they want to spend time with you? Really? You did not anticipate that? There's no shortage of strippers, and now you know why.
I make no apology for the fact that my toddler has a TV in his room for one very simple reason:
Kids love TV and parents love that kids love TV.
I mean, I know I do.
I don't view moderate TV consumption as a lazy parenting thing; I view it as a sanity-preserving thing.
My son loves TV just like every toddler. I can pretend that he only ever watches TV on weekends or that the shows he watches are purely educational but I'd be totally lying. While I indeed limit the amount of TV my toddler views on any given day, there are specific times I allow – heck, downright encourage TV viewing.
Just last week my fellow Toddler Times blogger Jean asked the question, Does Your Toddler Watch TV?
BooBoo goes to bed at 8 p.m. sharp every night – yep, even on weekends, holidays, full moons and leap years. We don't send him to bed like clockwork because we're such awesome parents, oh heck no. We do it because we have to; he needs the sleep. After bath time, book time and cuddle time, if BooBoo's especially tired and cranky I'm known to bust out a favorite Peep and the Big Wide World DVD. I turn the volume way down, shut off the light and get my grumpy toddler all nice and cozy. Usually within minutes my boy is off to sleep and there's peace in the Mommyfriend household once again. Winning!
As far as weekend mornings go, I'm taking them back! Ever since BooBoo finally began sleeping through the night I made the decision to preserve my sleep whenever possible. Thanks to my toddler's TV I can.
Picture it: Saturday morning, 5:30 a.m., I awake to a messy haired boy breathing on my face. He's ready to party – I'm not. Please, I stayed up way too late watching the Real Housewives marathon and I'm freaking tired. I stumble into his bedroom, trip on a Hot Wheel and pop in a Disney DVD. I stumble back to my room, trip on the same Hot Wheel and fall into a comatose sleep for another 90 glorious minutes until I hear the dreaded, "IT'S O-VER!" from that little person down the hall. That's my cue to get up and start the day and why not, it's 7 a.m. on a Saturday and by my toddler's clock, the day is half over.