On Being a Bad Mother

This is the actual oldest profession in the world. Being a mother, taking care of a little human being, aka keeping them alive until they can fend for themselves, and all that jazz.

It’s an ungrateful, difficult job. There are no days off, no vacations, and no pay.

Personally, I think all of this motherhood business would be easier if we didn’t make such unrealistic demands of ourselves. Somehow, we have come to believe there’s stuff we must never do; otherwise, we are failing. For example…

Keeping a messy house

You know what I mean: dust bunnies all over the place — they are more like dust elephants at the moment — dishes in the sink, laundry that doesn’t fold itself…

I understand it is important to keep a reasonably clean environment; however, sometimes we give too much importance to the way our house looks. We want it to be Instagram ready at all times as if someone were about to pass judgment on us.

So, yes, make a certain effort, but, on the days shit hits the fan, do not be too harsh on yourself. Oh, by the way, remind all of the people in the house this is not your obligation. Everybody has to contribute somehow to the best of their abilities.

Junk food

I usually cook every day. In fact, I enjoy it. However, from time to time, I want to sit back and not have to lift a finger. I need just to state what I want and have it within my reach in a matter of minutes.

Also, there’s the fact that my kid loves junk food. So, yes, somedays I don’t give my kid nutritious, whole meals. Instead, I give him junk food. It can be pizza, chicken tenders, or some other stuff.

Sue me…

Enjoying sex

Oh, hadn’t you heard? Moms don’t have sex. It’s like, the second you become a mother, your clit dries up and dies. No more pleasure for you, Mommy…

Yeah, right…

In reality, most moms want to keep having all of the sex, including, of course, solo play. We will plan for it, creating a schedule to have a bit of pleasure here and there — especially here.

Yes, that might imply telling the kids it is ok to play video games all afternoon long, but, honestly, Mommy’s mental health needs it. Or, as some friend of mine used to explain it, “If Mommy is happy, everyone is happy.”

Not being crafty

Some teachers like to ask kids to do crafts. Why, dear teachers? Why? Isn’t there already enough suffering in the world?

As is that weren’t enough; instructions say the child is supposed to do it alone.

LOL

No kid does it alone. It is painfully obvious that many hands were involved in the task. It is either that, or there’s a bunch of kids at my son’s school who are natural artists. Please…

Unluckily for my child, I’m bad at that. Painfully bad. On the bright side, even though I do help my son, his work always looks as if he had done it himself.

Hey, he will never be accused of cheating!

Swearing

I can have a dirty mouth, and, honestly, it’s necessary. When serious shit happens, sometimes the only thing you can do is stare at the dumpster fire and say, “Serious shit just happened!”

That's the truth. Things can get so out of control that you need to release tension and utter not such elegant vocabulary. Yes, you run the risk of having your kid hear you but, hey, isn’t this a healthier way to handle anger than downing four margaritas in a row? Although, if you are going to do the margaritas, please, call me.

Muting the PTA chat group

No, I don’t want to know about anything. Yes, just send me emails with the actually important stuff. No, I don’t need another meme. Yes, you are still muted. No, I won’t send you a video of my son dressed as a bunny. Yes, I’ll wire the “voluntary” donation so you can stop sending those DMs that I’ve been ignoring.

Blasting binaural beats into my headphones so I can hear my own thoughts

Lately, my son has discovered the magic of making high-pitched noises, and he has decided to put it to the test several times a day.

It can be early in the morning or late at night. It can be while we are eating or while I’m taking a hot relaxing shower. Mom is trying to write? Why should he care when he is in the middle of trying to break a glass just with the “power” of his voice?

Luckily, headphones exist, and there’s a wide repertoire of relaxing tunes on YouTube. So, when it all gets too much, I choose my favorite video, look at my kid, and say, “I love you, but now I need to go to my happy place.”

Ah, pretty music…

Are we bad mothers?

What constitutes a bad mother, for real? It seems to me that hurting your children, physically or emotionally, is a way more serious offense than giving them the occasional — or daily — chicken tender.

Above all, as long as our kids become decent human beings, we have done our job, even if our lives didn’t look exactly like the cover of a magazine or if we didn’t throw them the most spectacular birthday parties.

On a fun twist of events, one of the many reasons I stopped allowing my parents into my home was that every time they came, they would let out a comment on how something was out of place or just not perfect. Parenting is already hard enough as it is. Perhaps it is time we dropped the “bad” mother label and admitted we are just human.

Nothing bad about it.

P.S. Now, about those margaritas…

Originally published by me on The Mom Exprience.