Rarely do they serve to add comfort to ones day. There are wars, natural disaster’s, financial woe’s, political slinging, celebrity downward spirals, food shortages, real estate market crashes, and scandals galore (I mean, come on, did you catch the big snafu on American Idol the other night? That one kept me up.)
And this morning? TWO, count ’em, TWO headlines on MSNBC that struck a deep seated nerve in my gut.
“U.S. kids get 6 times more ADD drugs than in the U.K.”
Phew, then I guess it’s a good thing we live in the good ole U.S. of A. I just broke off my love affair with England.
And to add insult to this mother’s injury,
“First-born kids really do have it tougher.”
Ah, dearest Harper, all I can do is continue to tell you I love you every day, because apparently, I am really screwing you up.
The article continues, “The oldest kid in the family really does bear the brunt of parental strictness, while the younger brothers and sisters generally coast on through.”
Yep. It’s true. We even allowed Zane to tell a potty mouth joke to several of George’s co-workers today.
“Knick Knock. Who’s there? Alligator poop.” (Typo, you say? Nope. Zane tells knock knock jokes with one knick, one knock, no “alligator poop WHO?” and no traditional punchline. Joke’s over at this point, so just laugh and move on.)
We have really done it now. How do we undo this lenient mess we’ve made?
Oh, right! We’ve got the medication, which we are entirely loosey goosey about and just pop at leisure without any intelligent forethought or research. We’ll give one to Harper and she’ll be just fine handling her first born pressure. And, while we’re at it, why don’t we just give one to Zane too since he seems to be so out of hand.
The problems of the world solved.
Where’s the headline patting me on the back?