TV is my Co-Parent. Fight Me.

“If you’ve never used a cartoon to survive, you don’t get an opinion.”

Okay, yes—I use TV. We worship TV. But with Auntie Kate, it's not brain-rot—it’s war strategy. I’m not trying to raise screen-addicted zombies. Yet the crunchy beige-blogger moms are out there preaching Montessori and silent reading time as if there’s only one way to do this. I get the charm—but I’m not going to make myself miserable to look good online.

Let’s get real: when the hell do I wash dishes coated in marinara? Clean the highchair, table, floor, baby’s neck creases? Or, you know, pee without a toddler wrapped around my ankle like some stubborn vine?

So yeah—I hit play. Bluey. Something soft enough to hold their attention but let me buy a little peace. While they groove, I’m scrubbing floors, folding laundry, sanitizing faces—it’s basically defusing the next toddler attack. And when the screen runs I’m Auntie, I let them use TV so I can survive intact.

Do I feel guilty? Hell yes. Twenty minutes of Aussie dog cartoons makes me wonder if I’m messing them up. But then I remind myself: this isn’t lazy—it’s sustainable caregiving. I wipe butts, feed tiny mouths, teach, comfort, play, love. If a cartoon gives me the space to load the dishwasher or take a breath, that’s not bad auntieing—it’s smart auntieing.

💣Truth Bomb: Screen guilt is more toxic than the TV itself. Studies have found that the guilt around letting kids use screens causes as much—or more—stress than the screen time itself does. Parents who stress over screens often end up feeling worse, and that stress trickles into their relationship with the kids. So intentional, guilt-free cartoon breaks? That’s not brain-rust—it’s co‑parenting. You “extra crunchy for views” bitches can go wrap yourselves in that crochet blanket of judgment—and fuck right off.

✨Auntie’s Raw Take

Do I want to use TV as a tool? Hell no. Every time that screen flickers on, I’m scrambling to do essential shit so the kids stay safe and I don’t lose my mind.

But the guilt? Oh, it hits hard. I'm creative—I should be crafting or teaching. I should handle this with poise. I love them—I shouldn’t be this exhausted...

But sometimes? TV is literally the only freaking option. Two tiny energy storms tearing through the house, one bouncing off walls like they’ve got springs in their shoes—and I'm just trying to function.

Then come the questions: *How many Blueys is too many? Am I failing them? Rotting their little brains? Can I still call myself a “good” auntie if I rely on shows to survive?*

And then there's Bubs—he clings to me like caramel, so much that I've started singing “Caramel” by Sleep Token just to soothe his meltdown vibes. He sticks to me—room to room, hands and eyes glued. I love it, but it makes chores and caring for the other kid impossible. So I let her pick a show, and that gives me just enough time to... pee. Or breathe.

Worst? When someone mentions the screen time out loud. When my sister—their mom—says, “I think they’ve had too much TV lately,” my chest caves in. I logically know she gets it, but emotionally? It still hurts because have they had too much? Am I failing at this whole nanny thing by NEEDING to utilize screens?

Here’s the honest truth: I will continue doing the best I can. I might lean on cartoons sometimes—but not because I’m lazy. It’s because I love them and sometimes that’s the only way I can show it properly. I’m not the perfect auntie—I’m the regular human auntie who shows up, cares, loves... and yes, sometimes I let the screen do the heavy lifting for a minute.

Real talk? Auntieing under pressure? It’s rough. But sometimes a little screen buffer helps all of us stay in one piece.