Give me your worst parenting stories
January 4, 2008I need them. For my mental health.
And no, not the stories of other horrible people messing up—the stories of good, virtuous you messing up.
I need to know that you can be a good parent and still deeply, deeply suck at it, at times. Today, for instance. When I yelled so loudly at my son that my throat still hurts. (Did you know that mittens are an instrument of torture? That socks are painful? Neither did I, until I met Henry.) Thank god I don't have a deadline tonight because I need this glass of wine. And I need to go to bed before 8. And wake up in a few years, when he's able to dress himself.
Speaking of deadlines, a new Wonderland is up!
And now it's time for you to share your Stories of Parental Ineptitude. I know you won't let me down.
Now that I think of it, I'm holding a contest. The Parental Ineptitude tale that amuses me most will win...something. I haven't thought that through yet. My deep and abiding respect? Something like that. I need to have more wine and think about it.
Reader Comments (240)
http://ngunderground.blogspot.com/2007/12/mother-of-year.html
I'm assuming as I think of others I'm not penalized for multiple entries because I'm sure, this isn't the only one... I may go ask my kids for help.
:o)
My most recent was in Target trying to return something and my kids were being normal, busy 5 year olds. Y'know, climbing in and out of the cart, hiding from each other around my legs, alternately loving on each other and punching each other. I got so mad at them for not being docile and quiet that I hauled one off the floor, hugged him close to me and seethed into his ear that he better knock it off while pinching the other one on his neck. I was hustled through the return counter pretty quickly. Later, I calmed down enough to realize that I had overreacted and felt pretty ashamed of the mark I left on the one's neck. Most of the time, I realize that I lose my patience when I feel like I'm being judged by others. If I had just let them be who they were with a shrug of my shoulders, it would have been a much better trip.Parenthood is the toughest thing I've ever done and I keep reminding myself every single day that all I can do is the best I can do and resolve every day to do better.
Enjoy the wine - you deserve it.
When I finally reached them, they had no idea why I was upset. This did not stop me from screaming at them like a white trash mother and then dragging them by their arms back to the car and they had to run to keep up with me. Of course other people were all around observing the carnage.
Later, of course, I felt like a complete asshole, but I really felt restrained at the time. I mean, I felt like I could have murdered them in cold blood - ironic since the reason I was so mad at them is because I was afraid someone might murder them in cold blood.
Although the first comment from my blog entry on that incident trumps my story.
I also "know" someone who told his/her preschooler that he/she was a "fucking pain in the ass," while said preschooler was in fact, being same. So there's THAT.
So I'm tracking my "cycle" and noticing that "wow, I explode with rage about a week before I start my period." A connection? I'd say so! Just knowing that somehow leaves me feeling better prepared for the next time.
The wine sounds like a good idea. Also, sometimes Mom just needs a freakin' time-out herself. Yes?
A few weeks ago I took him out for the day and neglected to bring a single diaper with us.
The other day I forgot to fasten him into his car chair. There were two other adults with us that time, though, so I blame them.
The fact that "Love in an Elevator" came on wasn't so bad, but the fact that my 4 year old son started slapping his ass while shaking it at me was pretty awful. I think he got that move from me.
When I was five and my older brothers were 10 and 11, my mom (single and working full time) bought the boys boxing gloves for us to entertain ourselves after school. And thusly I lost four teeth in kindergarten.
10 minutes later she's still in the kitchen with me (BECAUSE I DON'T LEARN) and I realize she was being awfully quiet (BECAUSE I DON'T LEARN) and I look over and she's eaten the entire contents of the cat's food bowl (Iams Weight Control, for those interested).
My husband now watches her while I make dinner. Because I am clearly incapable of keeping my child alive while doing so.
As for bad parenting stories, I've yelled until hoarse; I've slammed doors so hard that pictures fell off the wall; I've sworn at babies. But my husband is the one who left the two year old alone in the house, sleeping, while he went to play video games (!) with a co-worker. I came home with the 3 year old to a note telling me, "I'm at Mike's." I immediately ran up the stairs to find my baby girl still napping in her new big girl bed. He still hasn't lived that one down. (It wasn't intentional - he forgot she was there. FORGOT!?!)
definitely a post to read BEFORE you reproduce.
So, here's the most recent one.
Seriously. Please do not call Children's Protective Services. He's got a good 6 inches on me and 60 lbs.
I slapped his face. Because he was being a pain in the ass and bitching. And I didn't like his tone after dealing with bitches at work all day. And it was the FIRST TIME I EVER raised my hand to him in anger.
I cried (yes, he's 16. He was 16 when this happened) for HOURS afterwards.
So honey, I hate to tell you. It gets no easier. They survive. The question is...will we? _kisses_
Not only did I forget to buckle my first born's car seat in (the infant kind, where the strap goes over), I did it again 5 years later with his sister. Both were fine, but tipped completely over when I turned the first corner.
Oh, and when my daughter was about 4 or so, she opened the car door in a parking lot as someone was careening at a high rate of speed into the empty space next to us. My leap around the back of the car to save her.... still wakes me at night, panting for breath, and I run to her room to check on her again (she's the 16 y.o.).
To top it off, when they were 8 and 3, I kicked their dad out of the house and got divorced when all I may have really needed was some PPD medication. We are each now married to wonderful people, but I still regret breaking up my marriage. (Is that a different post/thread?)
and I'm not a mother (and so clearly should never be), but: a few years ago, I accidentally smacked a small child in the head with a shopping basket full of heavy objects in the grocery store. The child was autistic, though I did not know it at the time. The grocery clerk mentioned it to me, 20 minutes later, as everyone in line was bitching about those terrible screams coming from Aisle 3. Oops.
If it helps, I undertand how/why you could do that, and as long as you tell him what drove you to it, and there's a common ground reached... it'll get better.
1. I cut the tip of my 4-month-old's thumb off while trying to trim her nails. It bled a lot, didn't leave a physical scar, but over 2 years later I still have to cut her nails in her sleep so she doesn't flip out...
2. I once told my one-year-old, who had been whining and crying all day, that "Mommy drinks because you cry." It was during a martini playdate, so I have witnesses.
3. My twins can use all sorts of four letter words in the proper context. I'm just waiting until they use them at school.
There are loads more, but I need to go drown my shame in some wine...
More recently, when my two year old threw food off of her highchair tray for the millionth time, I said to her, "Do I look like your maid?" As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized that, whether she thought it or not, I AM HER MAID. Then I laughed.
Overheard: My friend saying to her two year old godson, "Will you PLEASE stop whining and act like an adult?"