No one sets out to be a sucky mom or dad but sometimes, it happens. Recording and sharing parenting fails serves a couple of different purposes, besides giving me something to write about on my blog.
If you missed my first Random Parenting Fails post, you can read it here.
Sharing our parenting fails lets other people know that they’re not the only ones out there making mistakes. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only parent on the planet getting it all wrong but I know I’m not the only mom on the block who flounders sometimes. I know I’m not the only one who has frequent “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing” moments.
Sharing my “not so award winning” parenting moments lets you know you’re not alone. Maybe most of the world is blowing up Facebook with “we’re happy and perfect in our unsticky, color-coordinated life” but take comfort in the fact that there are people like me who will tell it like it is.
Onward to the parenting fails, people.
We left a razor sitting on the side of the tub and my four-year-old cut his lip trying to “shave like daddy.”
There’s always a twinge of parental guilt when your child harms himself (or breaks something) with an object they shouldn’t have been able to get their hands on in the first place. In all seriousness, there’s a reason we lock up household chemicals and sharp stuff. There is always the tendency to blame or judge when the kid gets in to something (or worse) because an adult was careless.
I felt horrible when Kyle cut his mouth, but let’s be real: once I saw it was only a little nick, I was more concerned with the fact that our family portraits scheduled for the next day would show one of our kids with a scab on his lip.
I was hiding in the bathroom eating the last Klondike bar. When my kid (not the one with the cut on his lip, the other one) busted me and demanded I share, I told him it was spicy ice cream and that it would burn his mouth. I don’t really have an excuse for this one, people. I know my days of being able to pull off a lame explanation like that are numbered. But I selfishly wanted that ice cream all to myself. I wanted to have a treat without someone climbing all over me whining for a bite (which would turn in to two bites and so forth.) This was why I was snacking in the bathroom in the first place.
Maybe you’re reading this and nodding your head. Maybe you’re thinking “hey, me too!” That’s kind of what I’m going for, although maybe you’re putting on your Sherlock Google hat and trying to figure out my zip code so you can contact the parenting police, because I know parents love to judge other parents.
Sometimes, moms screw up. Sometimes we learn from it and sometimes, we’re just able to laugh and not take ourselves too seriously. Sometimes we’re just happy to plop on the couch, adult beverage of choice in hand and thank God (the universe, karma, whatever your thing is) that our small humans are tucked in safe and sound and you’ve survived another day.
Thank you for reading!