I'm numbering this series of "Bad Mummy" with a 1, though please be advised it is not the first time that I have been known to dabble in bad mummydom. This is merely the first time I've chosen to document it, for reasons I don't know myself.
It was my turn to get up with P on Sunday morning, and I did the most lazy of things - I turned on the devil box. P was most pleased and rather giddy at the notion of being able to watch BabyTV, and this gave me the chance to prepare our breakfasts. After we had eaten, I tried to cajole her into playing with toys whilst I deftly changed the channel. To Maury. Yes, you heard correctly. Maury.
It gets worse. P noticed my bold malfeasance, pointed at the television, and started crying, "Noooo! Nooo!!", to which I replied, "But P, Mummy wants to watch Maury!"
People, I kept it on Maury as well, despite my child's cries. I wanted, nay, needed to watch yet another Maury on paternity results.
So the bad parenting count within this incident is manifold:
1st infraction: I let her watch TV early on a Sunday morning when I should be singing nursery rhymes like "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" with accompanying baby signs.
2nd infraction: I turned the channel on her and subjected her to a shitty talk show about baby daddies, full of shouting people.
3rd infraction: Despite her numerous protestations, I left Maury on and watched the nonsense when she deserved my full attention.
Yikes. The sad thing is, you don't know the half of it people. If you thought the Maury situation was bad, I guess I shouldn't mention the floor eating. Ahem. That's a story for another day.
All P is missing here is a cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth and three broken down pickups in the yard bolstered by cinderblocks. I guess it's no surprise I let her watch television and then change it to Maury, is it?