Yesterday I broke the cardinal rule of parenting. I have officially become "that mom." You know the one. The one who doesn't care about her child's safety. The one who didn't hear the curse word. The one who is missing angelic smiles and musical laughter and precious moments I will never get back.
The one playing Candy Crush Saga on her cellphone in the indoor playspace.
What's remarkable is not that I have become that mom. In truth, I have already been that mom a few times at the playground. No, what's remarkable is that I still feel guilty about it. That I want to hide the screen when another parent sits down behind me, even though she immediately pulls out her own phone. And the one other parent in the room who is not carrying a newborn (a dad!) is on his IPad.
Why is it that we are so ashamed to enjoy a moment of beautiful, mindless entertainment if it is before our child's bedtime, even if they are perfectly happy playing by themselves? Do we really need to be present in every moment of their lives? Every single moment?
Glennon Melton of Momastery.com once wrote a wonderful blog post about the ridiculous pressure to enjoy every minute of parenting, before it passes us by. (http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/04/2011-lesson-2-dont-carpe-diem/) It's not enough to clothe them and feed them and sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider while wiping their beautiful baby butts, we have to love it all too or we are terrible, terrible parents.
Dude, have you seen Yo Gabba Gabba?? Carpe Diem my ass!
Besides, its not like I didn't try. I climbed the rock wall with my daughter. Twice. (And by the way, for someone who claims to be an athlete, I stink at rock climbing.) I even sat down next to her and asked if she wanted me to join in her game. "If you want to mommy", she said in a dismissive tone that clearly said she couldn't care less. Yeah, yeah lady. Whatever floats your boat. She never even looked up from the castle/tower/spaceship thingy she was building
A few minutes later she made a friend her own age and the two girls ran off together, up and down the slide and all around the playspace. I did not see her for an hour.
Which left me lying by the wall, my head balanced on a yoga ball (sounds awful but was actually quite cozy), with nothing to do but play Candy Crush. (Damn those regenerating chocolate squares!)
Then my battery got low. So I wrote this blog post. With a pen! On a scrap of paper that I had gotten from the guy behind the front desk.
Next time I go there I will bring my laptop.
The one playing Candy Crush Saga on her cellphone in the indoor playspace.
What's remarkable is not that I have become that mom. In truth, I have already been that mom a few times at the playground. No, what's remarkable is that I still feel guilty about it. That I want to hide the screen when another parent sits down behind me, even though she immediately pulls out her own phone. And the one other parent in the room who is not carrying a newborn (a dad!) is on his IPad.
Why is it that we are so ashamed to enjoy a moment of beautiful, mindless entertainment if it is before our child's bedtime, even if they are perfectly happy playing by themselves? Do we really need to be present in every moment of their lives? Every single moment?
Glennon Melton of Momastery.com once wrote a wonderful blog post about the ridiculous pressure to enjoy every minute of parenting, before it passes us by. (http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/04/2011-lesson-2-dont-carpe-diem/) It's not enough to clothe them and feed them and sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider while wiping their beautiful baby butts, we have to love it all too or we are terrible, terrible parents.
Dude, have you seen Yo Gabba Gabba?? Carpe Diem my ass!
Besides, its not like I didn't try. I climbed the rock wall with my daughter. Twice. (And by the way, for someone who claims to be an athlete, I stink at rock climbing.) I even sat down next to her and asked if she wanted me to join in her game. "If you want to mommy", she said in a dismissive tone that clearly said she couldn't care less. Yeah, yeah lady. Whatever floats your boat. She never even looked up from the castle/tower/spaceship thingy she was building
A few minutes later she made a friend her own age and the two girls ran off together, up and down the slide and all around the playspace. I did not see her for an hour.
Which left me lying by the wall, my head balanced on a yoga ball (sounds awful but was actually quite cozy), with nothing to do but play Candy Crush. (Damn those regenerating chocolate squares!)
Then my battery got low. So I wrote this blog post. With a pen! On a scrap of paper that I had gotten from the guy behind the front desk.
Next time I go there I will bring my laptop.
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