How Does Simplicity Parenting Reduce Screen Time For Kids?

Damien Kings, the richest billionaire in the whole of Florida USA, he is known for his wealth and cuteness, he is also the country's sweetheart. He is also a single father with three kids: Kathy Kings: The first child, seven years of age, rude to ladies most especially those who get close to her dad and pretty though. Freddie Kings: The second child, five years of age, cute and handsome just like his dad and also a foodie. Flora Kings: The last child, three years of age, cute little angel, pretty and her mother died immediately after giving birth to her. The three don't want to see a lady with their dad, every nanny that comes to take care of them either get fired or resigns by themselves due to the children's mischievous act. But accidentally Damien meets with a lady and the lady eventually becomes their nanny. Who is she? Sylvia Jones, cute, nice, gorgeous, a true definition of beauty. She lives with her mum, Mrs Jones and she has a best friend named Rachel. She just lost her job and is looking for another one when she got an offer of being Damien's kids nanny and seeing she has got no job accepted the offer. What will happen when she gets to the house? How is she going to cope with the children? Will they like her? Or Will she get fired or resign like the others? All this question will be answered if you ride with me on this journey.

My twin sister, Ruby Stone, and I split up after our parents' divorce. She stays with Mom, while I went with Dad. Since the divorce, he's sunk into a deep depression, gambling away every penny we have. We move into a dark, damp apartment, and life becomes an endless struggle. Every day, I go to school and quietly work a part-time job to keep us afloat. Then, out of nowhere, Ruby—whom I haven't heard from in forever—sends me a link to a live stream. "Check this out, Aria. There's a surprise waiting for you." I click it, and my jaw drops. I'm the one topping the trending live streams. The screen splits in two. On one side, I sit in my dingy apartment, hunched over homework under the dim light. On the other side, Mom and Dad cuddle with Ruby on the fancy couch of their sprawling villa. The comments came pouring in. "Let's see what happens when twins are raised on opposite sides of fortune all the way to 18." "Aria still doesn't know, right? Her parents never divorced. They're loaded and perfectly happy. Ruby's life has been like a dream too." "Poor Aria. She's always starving and never has anything decent to wear. Isn't that basically abuse?" "She's the more sensible one, so her parents decided to raise her poorly."

This was the hundredth time Mom caught Dad throwing thousands of dollars at social media influencers. She didn't scream or make a scene for the entire construction crew to laugh at anymore, nor did she pause her work. Dad thought she had finally learned her place and grown sensible. The very next month, he invited every single worker on the job site to attend his wedding. However, he kept Mom and me out of it. When the workers returned, they were all gossiping about how Mom, the worn-out house-cat, had been replaced by a beauty. The bride was a meticulously dolled-up young woman. I had seen her on his phone many times. Every time, she would be wearing next to nothing, dancing on camera while calling my dad her "Big Spender", right before Dad transferred amounts of money to her with many zeros at the end. Mom looked calmly at them. Unfastening her apron, she thrust the spatula into the woman's hands. "The workers' massive daily meals will be on you from now on." Dad's expression hardened instantly, and he slapped Mom's hand away. "Are you out of your mind?! There are over a hundred people on this site. How could you possibly make Abigail cook for them? It would wear her out! She married me to live in luxury!" "And living in a shack on a construction site isn't too much for our daughter?" The young woman stepped forward to play the peacemaker. "Oh, I heard you and my husband started working on construction sites together ten years ago. The kid must be totally used to it by now. "You can just stay on as the housekeeper. I won't kick you guys out." As if granting charity, Dad commanded Mom, "Hurry up and thank Abigail for her generosity. She's the new matriarch around here. We're all one family now." Mom didn't say another word, simply closing the drafty corrugated tin door. "Bailey, I saved up a bit of money. How about I take you somewhere else to go to school?"

In our house, owning a single unnecessary item is considered shameful. My room is bare, like a model home. It doesn't even have an extra chair. There are always only three sets of clothes in my closet. If I want a new pair of pants, I have to cut up the old pair myself before I can keep the new one. Every time I bring something new home, I have to get rid of something old. That includes my favorite pair of shorts with the little robot prints. Dad calls this "decluttering". He says it prevents the soul from becoming weighed down by objects, keeping it pure and light. Every time I grow a little taller, Mom's frown gets a little deeper. "Eddie, you're taking up too much space," she says. "The house feels crowded because of you." From then on, I do everything I can to make myself smaller. Even when I sleep, I curl myself into the tightest ball I can manage. I just want to take up a little less space. Then one day, a truck driver stops in front of me. He smiles and tells me his truck has a huge cargo compartment, big enough to hold all the things nobody wants anymore. I quietly climb inside. "Mom, Dad… I won't take up any space now. You'll finally be happy, won't you?"

My father, Daniel Jacobson, teams up with the elders in my family to launch the Family app. Every child's behavior is converted into points, and those points determine who inherits the family's wealth. As the least favored daughter in the family, I am one of the first people forced to use it. "You earn one point for greeting your parents. Massaging shoulders or washing feet gives you ten points. Handing over your entire paycheck gets you 1,000 points. This is my original digital system for measuring good behavior." If I dare complain even once, or if I rank last on the scoreboard, Dad humiliates me relentlessly in the family group chat. He even forces me to kneel and wash the feet of whoever has the highest score as an apology. He looks at my hands that are red and scalded from the hot water and sighs. Then, his expression turns resolute again as he says, "I know it hurts now, but this is for your own good. A rough diamond has to be cut and polished before it can sparkle. I'm helping to smooth away your rough edges so your future will be smoother. "The points system is my greatest achievement. It's the deepest expression of a father's love." Today is Independence Day. It's also our family's annual scoreboard finalizing day. Dad invites all our relatives over. In front of everyone, he plans to announce that I, the child who ranks last, will be disowned. He wants everyone to see what happens to anyone who dares challenge his authority. "I'm doing this for the good of our family. Without rules, there can be no order. And without a strict upbringing, you won't build up the perfect character. One day, you'll understand my good intentions." But, Dad... I have already ended my own life by overdosing on some medicine. Right now, my lifeless body lies cold in the room upstairs, waiting for you to uncover it with your own hands.

My mom is a retired supermodel. She's added a monitor to the weight scales at home so that she can monitor my and my sister, Abigail Teller's perfect body weight. If my data goes up by 0.1%, Mom will ban me from eating for the next three days. But the thing is, Abigail keeps eating fried chicken every day, yet her monitor's light is always green. Mom claims that Abigail's still going through puberty. I defend myself, saying that I've gained weight because of the bloating caused by my period. As Mom points at the red light emitted by my monitor, she exclaims, "The data is never wrong! If you've gained weight, that means you've been snacking far too much!" After getting punished many times, I begin believing that being fat is a sin. On the night of my 20th birthday, the long-term diet I've been placed on has triggered my kidney failure, which causes me to bloat up everywhere. I kneel on the floor and plead to Mom that I'm seriously ill. But that's when the monitor lets out a shrill alarm. When Mom sees the 5% increase in my body fat data, she puts me through a devillish punishment. I can feel the electric currents jolting through my body. "It's bad enough that you've secretly snacked on cake, but to even lie in my face about your illness? I'd like to see how long you can stay stubborn for!" Having said her piece, Mom locks the door and takes Abigail out to celebrate her birthday. I guess Mom is correct. Monitors never lie. I'm the one who's at the wrong for being a glutton. That's why I've transformed into a monster who doesn't deserve any love at all. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll only drink water in my next life.