Posts Tagged ‘bad mom’

I went to physiotherapy today for my hip. I don’t know if I have complained about my hip here yet. It’s just one damn thing after another, anyway. The hip hurts. The doctor thinks it is tendonitis so off I went to physio. It was a bit depressing giving the nice, perky young physiotherapist my history. It got more depressing when she stuck me on the exercise bike. I liked the bike. It was one of those spinny ones, so it kicked up a nice breeze as I pedalled. But the bike is placed in front of a large mirror, in which I saw a fat middle-aged woman. A fat, middle-aged woman with lots of health problems. I do not know where that woman came from. Blech.

I do know she’s a bad mother, because she’s introduced her boy to the Terminator movies. And series, for that matter. What kind of mother does that when they say right on them as you load them up PG14 or some such thing?

I didn’t mean to get him hooked. I was just watching one evening and he snuck down and watching with me, suddenly popping up at a particularly violent moment, “This is cool!” I thought to myself, if he likes this, he’ll love Arnie*.

I did show a shred of parental responsibility and didn’t show him Terminator I. I have a remarkable ability to forget the details of movies, but I did manage to remember the naked sex scene in that movie. The second one, I remembered, was aimed at a younger audience. More cartoony violence and no sex. Once we were watching it, I realized that I’d forgotten all the swearing, but sadly, they didn’t say anything Asher hasn’t already heard out of my own mouth. Bad mom, remember?

We watched it on one of those web site where you can (illegally, I think) download and watch movies. Kinda fuzzy, but the basic point is made. We then moved on to Terminator III, which we’ve been having more trouble downloading, so we’ve been watching bits of it for days. In between, we watched more of the series, ensuring that Asher is thoroughly confused. I had to draw pictures to explain the baffling timeline.

It is 6:43 pm and time to go feed the kids. (Bad mom, remember?) Actually, there is some method to this madness, which is that Boo, in particular, is so busy playing outside that she will very reluctantly come in, eat about three bites, declare herself stuffed and run off again. Then, when I bring her in to get ready for bed, she’ll be starving and demand all kinds of food. Of course, I could go all strict-mom on her and tell her that she eat now or never, but then I have to face the huge tantrums and the complication that my kids all eat bedtime snacks and, what, am I now going to just ban her because I’d said two hours earlier eat now or never but the others get to eat then and now? So instead, I’m just feeding them all right before the grand bedtime ritual begins. There is method to my madness, I swear. Really.


*Schwarzenegger, for those not in the know. And yes, I googled how to spell his last name.

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