I’m convinced my years of watching shitty, smutty television have ruined me entirely. I used to spend my evenings watching orange High School diploma equivalent wielding morons drink and screw their way up and down the Jersey Shore. Or 40-something-year-olds trying to hold on to whatever shred of youth and fame that still might exist by participating in outlandish, stupid challenges that prove absolutely nothing. Or sassy Southern Black women all talking over each other for 30 straight minutes. And I loved every minute of it.
Not to mention the unnecessarily gratuitous programming that is HBO and Showtime. I mean, people having sex 5 seconds after meeting? Now, that’s called Tinder, but back in the day that just didn’t happen outside of a porno. It was a wonderfully fantastic world where we could demand F-bombs and titties and we could demand them now!
Fast forward four years, I no longer have cable because it’s too expensive. But that’s ok because Netflix has picked up the ball. They have riveting, smart series complete with all the nudity and swearing you can handle. Thank you, Netflix. You are a true American hero. But wait, they also have family programming AKA shit for kids. A lot of shit for kids. And what do you know, I have kids. A lot of fucking kids. Because of this my shitty Reality TV and Adult premium cable programming has been replaced with more Barbie movies than should ever exist and Koren cartoons with no words. Seriously, the characters say nothing. They just make sound with “fart noise” as the subtitle. I wish I was kidding. The worst part, my kids LOVE it!!
So this is my life. Kid’s shows as far as the eye can see. Or is it? Years of infiltrated smut have rotted my brain to the point where I can’t watch “Spirit” with my 3-year-old without thinking, “Oh yeah. Lucky’s dad and Ms. Flores are totally banging.” Or “Man, I hope Ken is getting the good stuff for how much Barbie is making him work for it.” I can’t turn it off! And I’m not sure I want to. It’s the only thing left that still reminds me I’m more than just a mom. I have the mom car, the mom body, the mom desire to be asleep by 9:30 PM.
As a mom or parent in general sometimes is hard to remember that you’re more than just those little people you’re legally obligated to keep alive. I used to be so skinny because I would forget to eat lunch every so often. I would just be busy or… sleeping. Either way, I looked amazing. Now, I have to actually feed other people, therefore, reminding me that I’m hungry. Then I not only eat my lunch but whatever they don’t eat too because “we can’t waste.” I’m fucking enormous. They ruin EVERYTHING!
While my waist-line may not be what it once was, my disgusting, disturbed mind is still as strong as ever; nurtured by years of the worst programming television had to offer. I encourage all parents to hold on to something from your old life. Something that reflects who you once were before your children infiltrated every aspect of your life. If that’s picturing cartoon characters doing the nasty, so be it.