Tag Archives: parenting

There’s No Mom of the Year Here

crazyyetwise.wordpress.com

crazyyetwise.wordpress.com

I posted yesterday about Summertime Depression.  I didn’t particularly want to post it, but I feel like as a mom (or dad) these days we are always supposed to be “on.”

We are supposed to enroll our children in activities and then make sure we get them there.  We are supposed to make them study and play sports and play an instrument.  They should know which fork to use and how to give a speech or at least do a backflip.

Frankly, I’m pretty impressed with myself when my kids have clean clothes and I remember that they need haircuts.

Does that mean I’m a bad mom?  I don’t think so, but I’m no expert.  Right now I’m in a fog of depression and I can’t decide if my cat is really this big of an asshole or, if I was in better spirits would I not mind that my back is clawed up the way it hasn’t been since that one ever.

I think that my kids know that I love them, even on my worst days.  I know my kids have food to eat and clothes to wear and more gadgets and gizmos than I have myself.

Do we go to “activities” four times a week?  No.  Do I feel guilty about that?  Sometimes.  Sometimes I just think they have extra time to be kids.

I can’t, mentally or physically, be the PTA Super Mom.  I don’t like to play with Legos or Barbies.  I’m a terrible cook. (Also, I suck at juicing.)  But I will bake a cake on my kid’s birthday, and if I don’t have decorations I can make them, and if someone is sick or sad then I can stay up cleaning puke and rubbing backs for days.

I don’t know if I’m trying to justify my lackadaisical parenting to myself or to you or if I’m really trying to justify it at all.

I think I’m trying to explain that I posted my Mommy Depression post yesterday because I am SURE, positively, absolutely sure that there are other moms out there who feel the same way.  And I don’t know why it is so frowned upon to admit it.

Today I am not the best mom I can be.  I am better than I was yesterday.  Tomorrow I hope to be better than I am today.  But I’m not ashamed of the fact that I’m not “on” every minute of every day.  Being a mom (or dad) doesn’t magically imbue you with super powers.  I don’t have endless patience and sometimes I’m cranky.

Being a mom doesn’t take away the problems, mental or physical, that you had before, and sometimes it even awakens ones you didn’t know you had.

I think being a good mom (or dad) means just trying, every day.  Trying to love yourself and make sure your kids know that you love them.  I know that my kids know that they are my world, even on days when I’m sick or sad.  I know that my kids know that I will be there for them no matter what and they can talk to me.

I hope that I’m showing them by example how to be a decent person, even if I do struggle with depression and physical limitations.  I hope that I am showing them how to laugh and enjoy life, whether it is through or around the pain.

I’m trying.  Every day.


Life is Mean and My Cat is a Vampire. Apparently.

Lately things have been yucky and stinky and vomity (this is my blog and I say vomity is a word) and snowy and for fuck’s sake I can’t take it anymore!

Okay, that’s probably an exaggeration.  The ‘can’t take it anymore part’ anyway, because really, my options are limited.

Let me fill you in.  So, of course there was the unfortunate gynecological incident.  Then we all got this terrible, no good stomach flu that almost killed us.  I’m exaggerating again.   No one was near death.  But it was gross.  Very, very disgusting.

Then we all got colds.  Bad ones.  With snot.  Lots of it.  Then we got the stomach virus AGAIN.

During these bouts of sickness I was, of course, having migraines because as you all know, my body hates me.

So, now we are finally, finally all feeling at least half-human and all the things I haven’t accomplished in the past month have grown into this gigantic pile of Things Stephanie Has Fucked Up and I’m really afraid it’s going to topple and bury me beneath it.

Now I’m going to leave you with a random sampling of Shit My Family Says to Me and hopefully I’ll be more coherent and less whiny next week.

***********************************************************

Thing 3:  The cat has a hole in her butt.  I just saw it.

Husband:  Uh…

Me:  Um…

Thing 3:  Don’t worry, I didn’t put anything in it.

grumpy cat no

*************************************************************************

Thing 2:  (Loudly, at dinner with extended family) I don’t even know why we celebrate Easter.

Me:  *puts head in hands*  Oh.  Dear.  God.

*shocked silence*

Thing 2:  *Very quietly*  I mean, I know why it’s a holiday, Jesus and stuff, but I just don’t get the rabbit.

Who does, really?

Who does, really?

**********************************************************************

Me:  Don’t be ridiculous, I’m awesome.

Thing 1:  Yes.  If by “awesome” you mean hard to love.

************************************************************************

Husband:  I’m not here to judge.

Me:  *reflects silently*  I think I am.

Husband:  Oh, I know.  I think you’re judging for the both of us.

Me:  Haha!  Right?  I’ll handle this, don’t worry.

Husband:  You should tell people that.  Say “I’m judging for two.” and rub your belly.  Then when they say, “Oh, are you expecting?” you can say, “Yeah, I’m expecting you to fuck up.”

*******************************************************

Thing 1 to Husband:  How did we wind up with this version?  We need an upgrade.

Me:  *Sputters*  What?! You’re think you can just trade me in for a new model?

Husband:  Mom two-point-whoa.

*Both nod.*

***************************************************************

Thing 3:  Mom!  Momma!  Leeloo is a vampire!

Me:  Leeloo is not a vampire.  Leeloo is a cat.

Thing 3:  Then why does she have pointy teeth and sneak around at night?

Me:  …

Thing 3:  *Triumphant*  Because she’s a vampire.


She got that class from her mother.

So my daughter is 4.  She occasionally does stuff and I’m like, What The Fuck?  Where did that come from?

Because, although you couldn’t tell it by my blog, we’re actually pretty strict parents.  Anyway.

She’s started doing this thing where she wiggles her butt and sings “shake it, baby.”  It’s a little disconcerting.  I could not think where she might have seen this.

Then I turned on my cleaning music today, and started shaking it.  Yep.

I think knowing all the words to California Love at just four years old shows great memorization and lyrical skills.  Not to mention all the exercise she gets “shakin it.”

For anyone unfortunate enough to not be hip to the 90s rap, here you are, and you’re welcome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDZ961xhNEo