Funny thing about mom guilt. It’s OURS, not theirs. Our kids are not going to remember these little things that eat us alive throughout the day. These moments that we look back on and feel shame and loathing for ourselves for not handling differently. The things we did (or didn’t do) that make us question if we are slowly raising little criminal masterminds because we didn’t react better.
But our kids? They have already forgotten about it. That’s the great thing about kids… they are constantly absolving, forgetting, and moving on. They are the embodiment of forgiveness. We should learn a thing or two from them, and forgive ourselves.
I have mom guilt for all sorts of reasons. For feeling like working is taking time away from my kids, for having medical issues from time to time that have physically prevented me from doing more than I would like with my kids while they are little, for not seeing my son’s cries for help as he basically screamed for almost a YEAR that he was transgender and I just didn’t see it. For getting divorced, for their dad not being in the picture. For being crabby, tired, yelling at my kid to put her shoes on faster when she just wanted to find a cute pair to show off her freshly painted toe nails (way to go, mom). Or for letting them eat pop-tarts for dinner because I just “can’t even” anymore today. The list of reasons I have to feel like an absolute shit as a mom is virtually endless….
I can pin point the exact day that my mom guilt kicked into full gear and never went away. Since that day it’s only morphed into a more potent form of guilt that makes me replay scenarios in my head all day and night that I f*cked up. Times I wish I could rewind, repeat, do better.
My oldest was an only child for only 2.5 short years. A few months before his third birthday my second came into the world and I. Was. Tired. I was overwhelmed, I was nursing and awake all night and I had some post-natal issues after that threw me back in the hospital and caused extra recovering time weeks after delivery that I hadn’t prepared myself for.
During my pregnancy I remember feeling like the literal walking dead. Every day was a struggle to make it to 7pm before I would pass out, mouth open, drooling, wherever my ass happened to land. I slept on the couch, in a chair, in my son’s twin bed more times during that pregnancy than I have in my entire parenting life. Throughout the nine months of hell pregnancy bliss I lived off of “movie days” with my son and tried to make my exhaustion as fun as possible for him.
Once my second took us by storm, I was even more depleted and midway through the day I needed a break. I remember setting up a movie for my toddler like I had countless times in the last 9 months, telling him it was time to chill out, and once the opening credits began I walked into the adjacent room to lay down and nurse the baby. He was so confused. Quickly toddling behind me asking, “but mommy why??”. It was quite possibly the saddest, most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, and yet…. he literally has no recollection of this.
I, however, have let it take tiny bits of my soul every time this moment replays in my head (which probably happens more often than what any good therapist would consider “normal”).
His glum little face, his crushed soul, the 
sweet whimpers asking me why all of a sudden just because the baby was here did I not want to lay with HIM and watch the movie together? And it’s not that I didn’t. I just had a fussy baby who woke up to every move, every loud noise. One that only seemed to sleep on when it was within my scent and in MY bed.
As I replay this day I think, I should have never walked away from that time with him. I should have sat my happy ass on the couch and let him cuddle up next to me while I nursed his sibling. I should have came back the second he showed any discontent, instead of telling him to go ahead and lay down, without me.
I should have….. wish I had…. if only I could go back….
I assume many moms have a story similar to this. A day that culminated all of their guilt as a parent, even if it was just a moment. But it’s one they wish they could take back, do all over again. And yet, as much as this day will forever haunt me and constantly remind me that I am a very imperfect parent, my kid is not an aspiring serial killer because of it. He’s completely normal, loving, compassionate, and none the wiser to the day that established all of my future “mom guilt”.
Maybe we should all be just give ourselves a little break and be a tad more understanding of our own faults as parents, as humans and stop analyzing everything we do that isn’t perfect as if its ultimately causing our kids irreparable emotional damage.
I think that you’re doing a great job, mama. And your kid? Your kid is lucky to have you.
My Kids Are Finally Back In School And I Don’t Know What To Do With Myself
I have been talking and joking about the first day of school for months now. How I couldn’t wait for my kids to be out of the house for the whole day so I can actually get things done, work, read, clean, shower, who knows… the possibilities are endless, really.
But here I am, alone, kids at school, with a quiet house and two sleeping dogs and I literally feel lost. What the hell am I supposed to be doing?
This is the time when one of my kids is usually starting to moan that they are getting hungry because they didn’t finish their breakfast and refused a snack because they were too busy playing.
Right about now is when I start my two hour warning to my kids that I would eventually like to get into the shower today.
I would have fielded at least three fights by now, five “mahhhm, he’s copying me!!!”s, wiped one butt, kissed six boo-boo’s, and styled my girl’s hair in three different ways.
She would have changed clothes at least four times and placed each discarded outfit on the floor in a trail back to the closet. I would be picking them up shortly.
I would be thinking about what to make them for lunch that will appease all three of their palates, but not force me to make multiple selections. I would have been cursing myself for forgetting to get milk last night and making a mental note to stop when we leave the house again.
My middle child would be asking for the twentieth time if he can play Fortnite yet, forgetting that he lost that privilege after last nights refusal to eat dinner or take a bath without a complete meltdown.
My oldest would be searching the basement for papers and markers to complete templates for uniforms he “needs” to design for the imaginary baseball team he’s been constructing all summer.
My youngest would have told me at least ten times already that I’m the “bestest mom in the weh-ld”, my middle might have told me he hated me (depends on today’s mood) followed by many cuddles and apologies, my oldest would have said something like, “I’m sorry my brother isn’t being good mom, I know you’re tired”.
One of my kids surely would have released one of the dogs out of the yard at some point today and I would have spend an hour trying to wrangle her back in. Another would have attempted to get themselves a drink while I was out of sight and spilled sticky juice all over the counters and floor.
All three would have played nicely for a short time and then would have noticed me quietly on the couch and fought each other jumping on top and to each side of me to be the ones closest to my seat. And then when we finally all settled down, one surely would have asked me to get up and grab them something they could easily get themselves. But they’re “too tired”.
My son would have brought me a blanket, my youngest two would have started racing to the refrigerator to be the first to get me a soda (but can’t seem to get anything for themselves when they want it).
We might have watched a movie, colored a picture, read a few books, played outside or went for a walk, but instead I’ve been sitting here, alone, wondering what to do now that they aren’t here with all of their tiny demands, constant conversation, and incessant needs.
I would have been annoyed, frustrated, dozing off, tired or aching, and had instants where I was on the verge of tears, but I also would have also had hours packed with moments of squeezing them, sweet giggles, and as many kisses on the cheek, forehead, and hands that I deemed necessary….
Maybe having them around hasn’t been so bad after all. I think I kinda miss them.
MomTransparenting
If you like this you might also like: Things I Promise Not To Do On Your First Day Of School
The “In” Grocery Store Came To My Town – And I HATE IT
For weeks all I saw were posts about the new hipster grocery store that popped up in town. I live in a suburb of Chicago. There are six (yes, six) Starbuck’s in my town ALONE. It’s not like we have a shortage of grocery store chains around here. Everyone was losing their shit over the new store with an extensive olive selection, a granola station, and a BAR! You could drink your wine AND shop at the same time!
I’ll keep this short and sweet. Mariano’s is for Pinterest moms who shop with a detailed list, an organized map of the store, and a method for packing and unloading their cart onto the belt. I’m not that kind of mom. I’m the throw shit in as I walk up and down every aisle because I forgot my list and can’t remember what I need kinda mom. The one who walks up to the register apologizing for the overflowing cart and the kids pulling every piece of organic candy off of the end cap hoping they didn’t crush the eggs or the bread in the meantime.
I’m the mean mom that won’t let my kids take the tiny carts to entertain them through our shopping trip anymore because it always turns into a Gladiator battle of who can knock the other off their pedestal. Where the carts are used as vehicles to be ridden in or bumper cars to ram into each other in the middle of the aisle with the most glass jars. And someone ALWAYS gets hurt. And half of the time it’s one of my children. (The other half it’s an innocent bystander minding their own business just trying to read how many carbs there are in a bottle of barbecue sauce). The whole time I’m running to keep up with them while protecting every item on the shelf because I’m not sure if the “you break it you buy it” concept applies at Mariano’s but even if it doesn’t I don’t want the attention. After all, I came in ripped yoga pants and a t-shirt that still has some of my kids lunch on it. And my fiances (too big) shoes because finding mine seemed like too much work. So basically, I get no shopping done and we end up at the register with a bunch of ho-ho’s, chips, candy, and band-aids for the child bleeding after the battle royale in aisle 5.
Mariano’s is not a dream, but a nightmare for a mom like me. The number of times my kids have grabbed shit out of the damn nut or grains bulk bins (that I never buy anything from because I’m not the non-GMO, whole grain, organic, healthy mom unless it’s January 2nd of every year)…. countless. Cheese and produce being a child level is terrible… they dive right in as if they have never seen FOOD before in their LIVES. Last time I was there one of the coolers was shattered and even though I didn’t see it, I’d bet that one of my kids did it with their cart/weapon.
I’m the lazy mom that would MUCH prefer to pay the extra $10 to have my groceries DELIVERED in little coolers with zero interaction with the public and no chance of buying a bunch of crap I don’t need because I went to the store starving. So unless Mariano’s starts offering free daycare with the purchase of a jar of pickles, I’m out. And I’m never going back. And for the record, I’m also the mom that doesn’t give a shit about a bar in a grocery store because it’s just another line I have to wait in while my kids are screaming with no shame. And let’s be honest, if I wanted something to drink while I shopped, I would just spike my “coffee” and bring it with.
Dear Judgy Social Media Moms, Get the F*ck Over Yourselves.
Mom on mom attacking needs to just chill the fuck out already. Since when did mom-shaming become a “cool” thing to do? It’s like one starts and they have an entire posse ready to pop in and crush someone’s soul. I’m saying it, others have said it before me, and I’m sure more are to follow. What is it about the world of social media that makes (some) people morph into these beings that basically share the same characteristics as sociopaths if they were to exhibit them in real life (but let’s be honest, they don’t. They only share their “knowledge” behind a screen where they are hidden, safe, and in the dark). Anyone who walked around on an average day pointing fingers, stopping people in the street to let them know they were “doing it wrong”, or walking up to moms with a child melting down and giving them (unwarranted) advice followed by multiple resources and recommendations. NOBODY DOES THIS IN REAL LIFE! If you did, you would have zero actual friends, and you would eventually land yourself in a “ward” of some fashion for having no boundaries, no filter, no empathy.
What are we DOING to each other? Can we just make a pact here and now to stop all the madness already? When a mom posts a picture of a rash on her child at midnight asking if anyone has any insight, it’s not because she’s a complete moron and didn’t think to call the damn DOCTOR! It’s because she’s a mom (quite possibly a new mom) and she’s freaking the fuck out and needs someone to talk her off a ledge while she’s watching her child breathe in his sleep and googling staph, syphilis, E-Coli, and other various catastrophic disease that (coincidentally) carry the same symptoms
When someone posts a picture of their child in the car – cute.as.a.button – and another mom jumps at the chance to teach her some serious lessons on how to correctly strap her child into their car seat it makes me HOMICIDAL. *Most* (not all, I know I can’t speak for all) but most moms snapping a picture of their kid in the car are doing it before or after they are even on the road. Their kid did something cute and they want to quickly document it before the demon child comes back demanding goldfish and juice (you think, by then they are speaking in tongues and you can’t quite make it out) on their way to the doctor’s appointment they are already late for. They shared a cute pic of their kid FFS. It’s not always your job to educate people on safety when you have no idea what the situation is.
Why are we constantly reporting “nannies”? Who the hell even knows if that was a NANNY! There are so many nanny narcs on social media. “I saw this babysitter at the park and the toddler asked to go on the swing and she said NO because she was too busy playing on her phone! So I think it’s my civic duty to report her in case one of you 20,000 women employs this deplorable excuse for a nanny so you can fire her.” We are raising a bunch of tattle tales and we wonder why (ummm, hello!). Here’s where my anger comes in. Let’s get real, if I’m paying someone top dollar to take care of my kids when I can’t , then sure… I expect them to actually watch my kid. But if we are talking about the same kids I pushed out of my body and fed and fought with and listen to bicker and whine for hours on end in a day, well then, I know full well what they are capable of doing to the human spirit. And if my poor sitter needed a break so she took them to the park so she could screw around on social media for 10 minutes. GOOD ON YOU, GIRLFRIEND. Get your peace and quiet break. We all deserve one.
But, that wasn’t the only issue I had with this particular social media shaming post. My other issue was that someone commented that this could very well be their MOM. And I said “hell yeah! I do that all. the. time.” Well, you bet your ass people had things to say about that (of course they did). You take your kid to the park you should be playing WITH them! Not on your phone. Pay attention to them! Ummmm, listen. You don’t know the shit storm we have been dealing with in my house filled with tantrums and sibling fights, back talking, and lost socks and shoes to get to this moment of serenity. It was complete and utter chaos today. I just want to chill. So until you bother to ask about the REST of my day? Then back the fuck off with your judgements, mmmmk?
And if I have to read one more time about how someone is “really offended by that”, I might cut someone (virtually, of course. I would never act the way I do online in real life, like the rest of the human population). You’re on Facebook. Not everyone is going to agree with you in life, better yet in a virtual world of endless members. 99.9% of the time. Grow a pair, or get off the internet. Chances are, unless you are opening offensive to an entire population of people, I’m not judging you. But even if I was, you assholes seem to be judging me any time I open my thoughts up on social media so if you can’t take it then stop dishing it out, Nancy.
I’m not kidding when I say this shit has gotten WAY out of hand. I can’t even post asking for recipe ideas with chicken for dinner without someone chiming in about how unhealthy poultry is and “did you know about all of the antibiotics they bulk those animals up with? I suggest a nice big salad”. Thanks a lot, Suzie, for your unnecessary advice. I, too, watched “The Magic Pill” while I was snacking away on some Cheetos and washing it down with Cherry Coke. This is MY life, and I do what I want, so back off. Let’s all just BACK OFF, mmmk?
Give each other a break. You know you’ve also had bad, really bad, and worse days. Maybe keep that in mind before you start attacking other moms on a platform made JUST FOR MOMS. We are all in this together, are we not? Parenting is hard enough. And if you can’t figure out a way to be helpful in a non-condescending way and ONLY when someone has asked for it, then maybe you should take your own advice, chill the fuck out, and put your phone down and go play with your kid for a little bit.
Why Moms Have To Stay Up Late
If I complain about being tired during the day my partner will often say to me, “well maybe you should go to bed earlier…”
He doesn’t get it. Not even a little. It’s not like I want to be exhausted all day long. We don’t, as mothers, make poor choices nightly that effect us throughout the day out of desire. We do it out of necessity.
I tell myself every single day that tonight I will go to bed earlier. Tonight, I will put a limit on how much TV I watch or how much of my book I will read and I will shut.it.down. early. But then the evening comes, my kids are crazy, and the dinner/bath shit show starts and the marathon of a day finally comes to an end and as exhausted as I am, I just can’t wait to get my butt onto the couch or curl up in my bed with the remote in one hand and phone in the other for endless hours (however many I choose) of PEACE AND QUIET.
No one will come running in with their pants around their ankles asking me to wipe their butt. I won’t hear someone screaming my name because they can’t reach a cup or a bag of chips in the kitchen when I told them ten times already to WAIT. I can get up and use the bathroom without someone following me in whining about how their sibling called them a baby (well.. if the shoe fits, kid).
If I want to read an article, I can pay attention and focus on what the writer is saying without interruption or background noise in the form of child yelps or YouTube celebrities blaring from the other room. I can watch a show or movie on TV and actually understand the plot line and the characters and be surprised by the dramatic turn at the end. (I did NOT see that coming!) Late at night, I can understand what the hell is going on in this movie, even if I am dozing off between scenes, because I’m not jumping up to every loud thud I hear wondering which one of my kids I’m going to find bloody when I turn the corner.
No one will tell me they are hungry shortly after I just made them a meal (that they refused to eat). I can plan out my week and write down all of the appointments, sporting events, school functions, and birthday parties I have to remember to deliver my child to.
And in the off chance I actually have some energy, I can fold the laundry, clean out the refrigerator, wash the floors, or do the dishes. And for whatever reason, at night, when it’s quiet and I’m alone, these mundane tasks don’t seem so mind numbing. Frankly it pains me to admit, I kind of enjoy them. But only at night.
There are plenty of moms out there that go to bed shortly after their kids. Who have self-control at night and make sure they are sleeping at a decent hour. But, if I had to guess, the majority of those moms are the ones who set the alarm early. They wake up in the wee hours while their kids are still snoozing away, and use the time to just be with themselves. To think, to peruse social media, to play candy crush or sit in silence. To read, watch TV or do the things us night-owl moms did the night before. Because soon, the tornado of the day will start and the whole atmosphere of the house will change.
If you are a mom, you get it.
We don’t have a choice. If we want any time to ourselves, it has to happen at night after the kids (and everyone else in the neighborhood without the title of “mom”) is asleep, or it won’t happen at all. We might regret it in the morning, but I guarantee no matter how many times we promise ourselves that this day will be different, once our kids are in bed… we will do it all over again tonight.
