Netflix is my Other Love

Since I’ve been home since February 9 and a big portion of my leave was in the shittiest weather of winter, I’ve become devoted to Netflix when I can’t go out with Charlotte. Before I went into labor I had a Parenthood binge watching session for two weeks. I took a hiatus after I had her and entered what I would like to call the Dark Ages known as the baby blues. Once I returned to normal I finished Parenthood and cried my eyes out. Since then I’ve watched countless movies (Chef being my favorite, Mulan 2 being the worst) and have just begun watching Friday Night Lights. Netflix was made for moms. If I had the luxury of being a stay at home mom forever I would most likely watch every TV show that was ever made. Charlotte always stares at the TV now too so because I’m paranoid that it will ruin her brain, I turn her bouncy seat away from it and I narrate the story to her. I think she has every right to know that Jason Street has just proposed to Lyla Garrity even if I don’t let her actually see it. Am I right?
There’s one thing that is unacceptable though. Netflix, why do you have to shame me and pause the show and ask me if I’m still watching it? ESPECIALLY when my child is clamped firmly on my boob and the remote is on the other side of the room! If I want to watch 8 hours in one sitting I damn well will watch 8 hours in one sitting without you shaming me, thank you very much. 

Texas Forever!

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