Thursday, May 05, 2016


I impose a No-TV timezone at home, from 2-5pm. Because I want the boys to be bored. Because when you're bored, you are forced to create your own activity. In which I hope they will do other things like playing with the toys I bought for them every Christmases and birthdays, drawing , reading and just day-dreaming. Because it makes them more creative.

Does it? I don't really know for sure, but I think there might be some truth it this.

So last night, Darren confessed that he watched TV during the forbidden timezone. AGAIN.

Not the first or second or third time.

I had it. I scolded him for real. Yelled and glared, and everything monsters do to scare kids.

You know that cry that makes you catch your breath? Darren cried like that for the first time (lucky kid), and he was scared and kept crying. After what seemed like eternity, he was standing in a corner, still crying. I asked him, "Why are you still crying?"

" *catching breath* because... *catching breath* *sob sob* I cannot breath properly *wail*"

I have never, in my life, resisted a laughter this hard before. And he looked SOOOOOO adorable. And so poor thing.

But I was still disciplining. I sat him on this bed, where he was still sobbing and trying to catch his breath. After another eternity, I caved in. I held him in my arms and patted his back.

So, today, it is NO TV day. Yes, the whole damn day. Good for them.

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