Super Nanny kicked me...

...right in the seat of my pants. While I was innocently watching Super Nanny last week (and by "watching" I mean judgementally making snide comments about other peoples' inability to effectively parent their children while simultaneously patting myself on the back for my far superior skill) when THWAP! Nanny's proper British, sensibly-shoed foot came flying through the TV and kicked me right between the denim pockets.

The family on last week's show had 6-year-old twins (boys), a 4-year-old (girl), and a 1-year-old (boy). The issues were plentiful. I was just snuggling under the warm blanket of "smug" as the 4-year-old had a 1 1/2 hour stand off about brushing her teeth as her parents pleaded, begged, and caved when Jo (the Super Nanny) bugged her eyes out at the camera when the children (6 year-olds!!!) paged their mom to help them, ah, wipe their "bottoms." Even better, at dinner the children were still all drinking out of sippy cups.

During a commercial, I started thinking about my sweet, darling child. Then I realized. Oh. My child is 4 now. He isn't the most reliable bum-wiper. He can (but won't) dress himself. Is that the smug blanket I feel unraveling? Crap!

So, thanks to Jo/Super Nanny's kick, I have made it my mission to make sure I won't be on the show in two years. I also came up with a theory. This stay-at-home-mom thing has an interesting effect. Based upon an informal survey of moms I know who work vs. those who "stay home", it occurs to me that working moms have independent children much earlier than the homers. Maybe because we're home and have time to "help" longer. Maybe because children who go to daycare/school learn to be independent because their teachers don't have time to wipe 40 butts an hour. Whatever. I'm just glad Ben has been dressing himself, tending to his "personal issues", and becoming an I-can-do-it-myself guy.