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It’s All My Fault

“If anything can go wrong, it will.”

That is Murphy’s Law.

Then there is karma, which is a spiritual concept of cause and effect.

It is because of Murphy’s Law and karma that I owe you all an apology. You see, it was I who caused the great snow of 2018. You can blame me for getting you stuck at home with your children for ten (10) straight days. I’m so sorry. Just know that I, too, have suffered for my transgressions.

But let me explain. I really had the best of intentions. It all started the last few days of Christmas break.

My children were growing weary of each other’s company and I was growing weary of them growing weary of each other. I took to wearing a black and white referee’s shirt and keeping a whistle in my mouth to quickly halt scuffles and issue penalties.

When this routine quit working (I’m still not sure who took my whistle), I caved. I handed each kid a device and I sat down with a glass of iced tea and enjoyed the glorious peace and quiet. I didn’t feel guilty, not one little bit.

Fast forward a week and the children are back in school. Glorious structure, routine and interaction with their peers returned my children to the somewhat domesticated humans they were before break. But the few days of excess screen time had created three little junkies who were not ready to kick the habit.

When I woke my children on those few school days, they seemed eager to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast. Only they didn’t actually get their food, they found the devices and got their fix. Those addicts chose computer games over actual food!

This was when I knew that my methods came back to bite me, and while the kids were no longer fighting each other, they began hissing and baring their teeth when I attempted to take away the iPads.

I realized that I created these monsters and I was determined to turn them back into the wanna-be WWE wrestlers that I had come to love. I knew we would need a device-detox period, then a very structured system of limited screen time could be implemented following the blackout.

I steeled my nerves, then set the date. I was feeling quite smug about my superior resolve and top-notch parenting skills. I fancied myself a modern day Joan of Arc, willing to endure great hardship for this worthy cause.

Upon our return from a family visit, we would begin our two weeks of unplugged recovery. Naturally, I was counting on school days to break up the withdrawals and resulting brawls.

And then, snow. And Carol called. Then she called again and again and again. Five days of quarantine with device-eprived children, plus a weekend, just for good measure.

I’m not Catholic, but I believe this confession is the first step in taking responsibility for my errant ways. For penance, I have lain in the bed that I made. My house was a prison and all the inmates marked me as the enemy from the start. Their tactics were cruel and inhumane and I have truly learned the error of my ways. A few times, I considered waving the white flag, but I stood my ground despite unspeakable hardship.

I offer you my sincerest apologies for causing this dark time to descend upon our community. Please know that I’ve realized that my pride in “solving” a problem of my own making was foolish, and I will forevermore approach these challenges with a humble heart.

Overheard at the salon: We haven’t had any luck yet rehoming the pregnant ferret.