Mom Guilt: Part Two of the Never-Ending Story

Here we go again folks. The real just keeps getting realer. After my first mom guilt post, I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the other things I have done and continue to do that make me feel like shit about myself as a mother. I figured, hey, why not write another post about it. It’s kind of like therapy. I share the crappy things I do with the world, and you all make me feel a little better by admitting you have done the same. And you share the crappy things you do and we all sit by an imaginary bonfire, sing kumbaya and drink wine while ignoring our whining toddlers. This is totally a win-win situation!

Disclaimer: I did hesitate when it came to writing this post. I feel like a part two is never as good as an original – the only exception being Sister Act 2. Solid movie Whoopi.

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Just like last time, I wrote this list as quickly as possible. I let it sit overnight. I got up the next morning and reread them while getting ready for my workout. I laughed out loud at some of them. One or two have been added to my “Get your shit together list.”

Once when Henry was about six months old, we went out of town to visit one of my best friends. I forgot to bring the pack and play so I actually let my child sleep in a drawer. Yes, a dresser drawer. I did pull it out of the dresser and put it on the ground. I put a couple blankets in there for him as well. It works guys. Try it sometime.
He doesn’t brush his teeth twice a day. Some days he doesn’t brush them at all. Oops.
I let him wear his shoes on the wrong feet sometimes. If he puts them on himself I am not going to switch them and let an unnecessary temper tantrum happen.
I bribe him with candy and cookies when I need him to be good.
His favorite foods right now are ketchup and mustard and sometimes I let him eat them with a spoon.
I forgot to buy him a cute Halloween candy bucket so he trick-or-treated with a cookie tin instead. It wasn’t until someone pointed out that since he was the Cookie Monster it was actually pretty clever. I did not put those two together beforehand. I just frantically searched for something that could hold a large amount of candy that I would be eating later.
He is two and a half and has still not received a haircut. He is getting into Billy Ray Cyrus mullet mode.
He still isn’t potty trained.
One night I lost it and threatened to throw his Chase dog in the trash if he hit me in the head with it again.
I don’t always put him in pajamas to sleep. Sometimes he just wears the clothes he has had on all day to bed.
Once he was crying during nap time and I was doing laundry so I ignored him for a bit. Turns out he was stuck under his bed. Oops.
When he was a newborn I would let the dog lick spit up off of him. Yeah that’s pretty gross.
I dropped him into his crib once. It was a total accident but my mom was there with me so I felt even worse. Plus I had just drank a beer so she probably thought I was an alcoholic mother.
Every time he falls I just say, “You’re okay!” before I even check. We have been pretty lucky so far.
He got his head stuck between the banisters on the staircase once. I got himout safely without having to use any butter – a la Michelle Tanner style.
When he has a tantrum while we are running errands and just lays on the ground screaming, I just walk away hoping he will follow. This has a 50% success rate. If you ever see my child laying on the ground at Target, I am only an aisle away. Hopefully.
On weekend mornings I let him watch cartoons so I can scroll through my phone in peace.
When I get off work early, I will go home and take a nap instead of going to pick him up from the babysitter.
I will fast forward his shows when he isn’t looking because Team Umizoomi is too f*cking long.
Once I took him to meet my coworkers. He was just learning to sit up. I sat him on the floor so they could see and he fell backwards and hit his head on the floor. He was okay but I literally looked like this shittiest mom ever.
When I read him bedtime stories I skip pages. Did you know Dr. Seuss books are up to 70 pages long?
I still can’t get him to stop saying the word shit.

Being a mom is way harder than I ever imagined. I am in no way Mom of the Year. But I do think i’m doing a pretty mediocre job. He can count to ten. He knows his shapes. He won’t go to bed without giving me a kiss and a hug. He says please and thank you. He is so happy and loves to laugh.

But if three is really worse than two i’m in trouble. I may need actual therapy then. But hey, couldn’t we all use a little therapy?

Until Next Time,

Jamie