Bad Mom Moments

We've all had them. Those bad mom moments. I'm not talking about those times where your kid has an accident because they didn't listen to you or because they snuck away from you. I'm talking about those moments of conscious choice to just not give a damn...for a few seconds (or more).

I, like most mothers, like to think that I do a pretty good job at this whole "nurturing a small human who cannot care for themselves" thing. I can also admit that I have those moments where I thank whatever God is listening that I don't have to see my children only from 6p-8p on Wednesdays with supervision due to how completely I mess shit up. Sometimes, I'm an epic failure. What's worse? Sometimes these failures are by choice- which is pretty messed up.

Bad Mom Moment #1
It's probably best to start things off from the beginning of my journey to motherhood. That's right. I couldn 't even make it through pregnancy without thinking to myself, "Worst. Mom. Ever.". To set the stage, picture me (or yourself if you feel the need) at six months pregnant with your first child. Everything feels so....different. The stomach starts poking out. The baby is moving around, making you feel a little weird. You can't drown your sorrows in a bottle of anything but Tylenol.

On a particularly funky day, the loving husband was blabbering on about how excited he was for a baby. "It's so wonderful, so beautiful, so amazing...". Yes. Yes, it sure is. It's also exhausting, depressing, creepy at times. Once I grew tired of his incessant perkiness, my first bad mom moment struck. It started out as a normal, sarcastic sentence. Just me being funny. It ended badly, with me nearly shrieking. I'm 87% positive that my eyes turned red and I grew a few horns just for this moment.

"Why yes, sweetie, it's so wonderful. It's absolutely wonderful to get stretch marks. Oh, and let's not forget that heartburn- I've always wondered what it would feel like to want to cut my own throat. You know what's better than that? Playing host to a parasite that wants nothing more than to suck the life right out of you!!".

Then the realization hit. Oh shit. I just called my baby a parasite.

Regardless of the fact that my assessment of the situation was scientifically accurate, moms can't do that shit and not go to hell.

Bad Mom Moment #2
I won't keep these in chronological order, because I am wanting to share some of my favorites. The next moment comes from just last month. My second and youngest child started crawling, army style in October. He's gotten pretty good at getting around, so I've started being more cognizant of where I take off my shoes, blocking off areas that could kill him, etc. The house that we recently moved into has tile throughout, with the exception of the bedrooms. Great choice in theory. Probably a bad choice overall since I now constantly expect him to bust his head open at any moment.

As Jensen has gotten faster with his mobility, he's started covering a lot ground. Let's mix that with the fact that he's producing enough drool to spit shine a Cadillac every hour. Little puddles are showing up all over the floor, I'm assuming as a little present for a bare-footed Mommy.

One day last month, I was picking Jensen up from the floor after he had made a few laps around the living room when I noticed the front of his clothes were dirty. FILTHY. His spit had been dribbling down to his clothes and he had then been dragging that little tummy all across the house.

At that moment, inspiration struck. I'm working with the hypothesis that babies have clean mouths like dogs. Their spit must be pretty sanitary- only one thing goes in. Why couldn't I attach a little mopping cloth to the front of the baby before I let him down for some exercise? Let's work smarter, not harder!

Bad mom moment. I won't confess as to whether or not I tried it.

I want you readers to know that a dirty floor isn't my bad mom moment. I'll have you know I mop weekly. Daily if you count my lil' Roumba.

Bad Mom Moment(s) #3
This next example isn't a specific moment, as it's happened at least once a month for the last year. I should say that with a sense of shame, but I just can't, so we will just call it what it is.

The great thing about spending lots of time teaching your children those independent living skills is getting to cash on them in the clutch. The clutch, of course, being 7 AM on a Saturday morning. I can't say for sure if it was the second pregnancy that made me fall into this routine or a missing chip in my mom brain, however shortly before my first son's 5th birthday, I stopped functioning before 9 AM on a weekend unless there is a specific reason that I need to drag myself from my bed.

Jacob comes into my bedroom every weekend when he wakes up. Sometimes it's a normal time, while other times it is before the sun even rises. Being a light sleeper, I hear him come in and will always ask what he wants.

"I want some breakfast."

My response now?

"I give you permission to eat anything that you can reach that doesn't need to be cooked. I don't care if it's a pop tart or chocolate syrup. Come back after you eat."

When he gets back, I usually turn on the TV in my room, sit him on the bed beside me, and let him watch some cartoons while I do that half-sleep, half-conscious thing that all of you have probably done yourselves from time to time.

Problem? Solution! Bad mom moment.




I have plenty more bad mom moments to share, however I want to keep some for later writing. It keeps it interesting. I challenge you moms who might be reading to share your bad mom moments in the comments below.