September 28, 2005
I’m sure I’ve done worse things, I just can’t think of them now
My friend M. and I have been playing ‘dueling bad mommies’ via e-mail this week. It started when I made some wiseacre crack about how my kids were outside playing with pointy sticks while I was writing; M. fired back with the TRUE story of her daughter (two and a half) bringing her a ’steaming hot cup o’ battery soup’: a plastic mug containing the batteries from the TV remote. Psha, I responded, I can top that! A while back, one of our kids (see, I’m such a bad mom I can’t even remember who it was!) jimmied the battery compartment on one of the toys open and brought it to me asking, ‘What is this stuff?’ The ’stuff’ was leaking battery acid and melted plastic.
M. e-mailed back: ‘Dammit, I think I’m paying too much attention to these kids. You win, for now.’
So I started trying to think about what my Worst Mommy Moment was, and I remembered this: in the first trimester of both pregnancies, I was exhausted. I mean, it was all I could do to stay awake until lunchtime. When I was pregnant with Henry, I would sleep on the floor of my office (formerly a janitor’s closet) between classes; I often showed up to teach with carpet marks on my face. With Charlie, I was able to lay down properly at home, but not until Henry went down for his nap at 1:00 p.m. (yes, I am one of those Schedule Moms, get over it), which was a slog for me.
One day, when I was pregnant enough that Wade and I knew but not enough that anyone else knew, I was so tired that I couldn’t focus. I put Henry in his crib at 12:45 and flopped down on the sofa. We had a house rule about the nap: Henry was to stay in his bed until 2:30. Some days he went right to sleep, but other days he would play for a while and then sleep. But he needed the nap, and I needed the break, so there it was. On this particular day, I went right to sleep. I woke up and heard Henry jabbering, but when I looked at my watch it was only 1:30, so I dozed off again.
I woke again, this time to hear Henry calling, insistently but not frantically, ‘Mama! Maamaa! MAAMAA!’ I looked at my watch and . . .
It was 5:00. Henry had been in his crib for OVER FOUR HOURS.
I went in to get him and he smiled and held his arms up and pointed to all the stuffed animals he had thrown out of the crib during his four hours of confinement. And I would have felt bad about it, but he was perfectly happy and I really needed the nap. Because it’s all about ME, see?
Okay, now go here for the story of one sincerely great mom. But get a tissue first. I guarantee you will need it.
Posted by Susan @ 11:40 am • Uncategorized
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September 28th, 2005 at 12:47 pm, Candace Says:
Oh, I think I win.
I lost my son in a beer garden in Germany.
Who wants details?
September 28th, 2005 at 2:25 pm, McSwain Says:
Once my son was crying in his crib, and I decided (against my mommy impulses) to let him cry. But it kept getting louder. So I went in there and he had gotten his little leg stuck between the slats and he couldn’t get it out and it was all red and it was awful and I was such a BAD BAD mommy for making him wait.
Thanks for the link. I followed the links and read several of those posts.
September 28th, 2005 at 3:18 pm, adria Says:
Daria flew out of her crib because she liked to jump up and down on her mattress. One day she jumped so hard, she flew out and did a back flip onto the floor, landing on her back. She was completely okay. She just scared the crap out of herself and Micah and me. I felt so guilty allowing to her bounce everyday, but it made her so happy.
The next week, we moved her to a toddler bed because obviously she was way to big for the crib.
She did manage to put a hole in her crib mattress, a one inch hole.
September 28th, 2005 at 5:29 pm, Heather Says:
Thanks so much for sharing your stuff Susan.. And that link…tissue!!
Its so nice to feel like I am in the company of NORMAL people again…I feel so completely surrounded by well behaved and compliant children, and gawking parents who behold the chaos I call my life - and I trudge through with the weight of the world heavily on my shoulders, and I teach with people with their kids who seem so perfect on the outside - reading the whole Harry potter series before they turn 7 (etc etc). Its just so nice to find some people like ME. THANK_YOU a million times over for sharing your stuff so frankly, so honestly.
**sigh**
Okay…my worst…I don’t know if I can pick just one…maybe Owen playing “its snowing” with Ant poison? Long story…All escaped unscathed. How about Aidan running away and mommy getting in trouble with the cops…
September 28th, 2005 at 7:28 pm, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
My son was choking and had the Heimlich maneuvar performed by my husband, in public, with a crowd around. I had no idea until I looked up after seeing Alex puke. See, I was too absorbed in The Best Eggs Benedict I’d Ever Had to notice my son was turning blue.
I was pregnant— does that count for anything?
September 28th, 2005 at 7:35 pm, Susan Says:
How horrible am I to admit that I am laughing OUT LOUD at all of you?
Keep it coming, people.
September 28th, 2005 at 8:08 pm, lauritajuanitasanchez Says:
He’s still alive. You’re fine.
Whenever I screw up, I throw a quarter in the therapy jar…it’s a fund for future therapy for my kids.
September 28th, 2005 at 8:23 pm, Susan Says:
Oh ma gaw. That was hilarious. I mean, I feel bad for the kid and all, but I can so relate to it because I think every mom has their *oops* moments.
For instance, my best friend’s two-year-old baby just learned yesterday how to put cigarettes in his mouth and say “fuck” over and over and over again. Guess he really has been paying attention.
Oops.
September 28th, 2005 at 11:06 pm, KatieK Says:
We live in Istanbul. The traffic is insane. I was driving along. Our 16 month old daughter was in the back seat, in her car seat. Another driver cut me off, narrowly missing us. I let out an “Assh*le!” and from the backseat came: “F*cker!”
September 28th, 2005 at 11:18 pm, Wendy Says:
In my 20 months as a parent I’ve managed to let Connor fall off the couch onto his head more times than I can count (one time was bloody), get his leg stuck in the crib slats about 3 times (Thank you, Vaseline), pull a picture off the wall into his eye, and throw up from gagging on things toddlers probably shouldn’t eat a few more times. There was also the time my husband dropped a large toy on him and it hit him squarely in the eye.
By 15 months he had a perfect battle scar on the top of his head where hair no longer grows.
September 28th, 2005 at 11:45 pm, educat Says:
Since I am alone like a dog, I would like to use this space to confess that I am the worst teacher on earth.
Monday I told a young man who is the puppet of a cooler, more poorly behaved boy that he needed to drop his man-crush long enough to allow us to have school.
There. I said it. But it was one on one, does that redeem me at all?
September 29th, 2005 at 4:20 am, Susan Says:
Holy moly, Wendy–that scar! Henry cracked his head on a diving board, the summer he was three, but I am hesitant to tell the story as it was not MY bad parenting moment, but another parent in this house who shall remain nameless. If you know what I mean.
Katie K, Charlie says ‘Oh Jesus’ and ‘Dammit’ in a voice that sounds EXACTLY like me. I’m proud of that one, actually.
September 29th, 2005 at 6:31 am, Mary P. Says:
These are great! Nice to know that all these good mommies have had their “I can’t believe I did that” moments, and still be good moms.
You’ve all had opportunity to read about my parental failure, complete with pictures. I know there have been many, many more, through all the years of their lives, but it was so long ago I can’t remember. (Hell, I have trouble remembering things that happened twenty minutes ago…) Hopefully, the kids don’t remember, either!!
September 29th, 2005 at 8:05 am, Kara Says:
I am laughing so so so hard. Ijust “found” you today, but I will be back. I don’t usually read “mommy blogs” (you can check my blog to see why) but you may have swayed me.
good stuff!
September 29th, 2005 at 7:24 pm, Jenorama Says:
oh my god, the two-year old kid with the cigarettees saying fucker just kills me. I want to MEET him.