Certainly nobody’s perfect, and most of us aren’t truly bad. It might be nice to put some of the energy we pour into our personal performance art toward working to improve the lives of moms who truly are considered bad by the wider world—moms who can’t feed their kids, moms in abusive relationships or with substance abuse problems, moms who really are overwhelmed. Claiming to be a badass by typing while your kid watches Blues Clues doesn’t really help anybody.
from The Mommy Wars by Marjorie Ingall
She’s right. It’s not.
I’m overwhelmed. Very overwhelmed. While there’s food in the cupboards and no bruises to cover up with make-up, it takes medication for me to get through the day.
Even with the medication, I sometimes have to leave the room and give myself a time-out because I just do not know what I’m doing and I am so afraid of doing the wrong thing. Of smacking her ass (I’ve done this once or twice). Of calling her dad and telling him to take her off my hands (done this too) because I feel completely incapable of raising this human being.
I sometimes wonder how she will feel about my parenting abilities (or lack there-of) when she is old enough to understand.
I don’t know how to explain that Mummy is fucked up. That there is something happening in my brain that means I can be irritable and not-very-present. That I’m better at the occasions than I am at the day-to-day.
I love weekends. I find something to do (Aboriginal Festival! Pedestrian Sunday!) and we go and do it. If we are out and about, I don’t have the distractions that exist at home. The lure of my bed. The black hole of distraction that is the internet.
I spend too much time standing back. I have such a hard time getting down on the floor and playing with her. Hell, I have a hard time understanding her. Why she can be clingy. But also telling me to leave her alone. To not look at her. To stop singing and dancing in my attempts to lighten the mood.
Do I write while my kid watches TV? I do. At times. I know that at the end of the day she needs to chill. She has, after all, spent numerous hours surrounded by other kids and teachers and noise and toys and such. I am the same way. I love coming home to a quiet place after spending time surrounded by people.
Most of my writing – my typing – takes place when The Mook isn’t home. When she’s with The Former Mr and I’m trying to keep my heart and my head from missing her too much. Or late at night, when the words spill out of my head.
Am I bad ass? I don’t know. What’s the standard?
My kid is well fed, but I’m lax on the fruits and veggies and we far too many meals sitting on the couch watching tv.
Most of her clothes are 2nd or 3rd hand, but she’s well dressed. Better than I am. She prefers a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt over anything else, but so do I. Sure, the shirt may not be what all the cool kids are wearing, but I don’t think she’ll ever pass as – or be interested in being – one of the cool kids.
She’s been mistaken for a boy, but I hardly think she will need therapy because of it. I’m avoiding – at all costs – assuming a sexuality for her and that may mean the difference between her feeling secure or not when she explores and discovers her own sexuality.
Sure, she spends a lot of time in her head and can be occupied for lengths of time by a handful of dandelions, but there’s a creativity happening in her head that is all hers. The time she has to be inside her head while I pull myself together is probably the best way to nurture it.
In the end, I think she’ll be fine. That we’ll both be fine. That I have much to offer in my honesty about depression and mood disorders that will make the difference if when it becomes her own issue.
But I’m not helped by an attitude that I’m mis-placing my energies (however limited) because I want to ‘fess up to this state of being. I’m going to be honest and nothing less than. And if a writer happens across my blog because she googled ‘bad mummy’ and lumps me into the likes of which I don’t understand, I don’t really give a shit.
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Originally started in August, finally finished and hit publish in October.
Well, you know I sympathize. I was just discussing the difficulty I have getting down and just *playing* with the kids during the day, instead of avoiding my role as a single parent. It’s hard for me to be without adult company. I feel like I need it to recharge, and when I’m home with the kids all day, I start to go out of my mind. But what I was getting to is that my therapist had a good suggestion: A few times a day (mealtimes, and other times just for fun), I am to set my kitchen timer for 30 minutes and just turn off the cell phone, the computer, put down my book or homework, and just be with the kids. Whatever they want: playing make-believe, Chutes and Ladders, reading, coloring, a walk: I’m all theirs, no exceptions. The idea is that it’ll be easier for me to focus if I know there’s a stopping point where I can have a break, and I won’t have to feel like the worst mother in the world for not always wanting to play.
I think I’m seriously ADD or something. I find it so hard not to get distracted by everything else. It’s so hard to sit and just be with the kids, partly because they don’t gove much in the interaction. It’s not a conversation much of the time, I feel like I’m just performing for them, to amuse them. Not exactly fun for me. lol
hey Mama!!
1st of all you’re doing a great job! you’ve got one happy kid, who has made it to 4yrs old – that’s because of you.
this mommy wars book – wtf, what is a “good” mother? how do you decide who’s good enough, who loves their kid enough? is it if you’re old enough to be a mom? rich enough? happy enough? stable enough? gaawd shut up already, i hate that these women make money off of making us all feel bad
you’re teaching hte mook what Life is. Life isnt picture perfect. It’s not a disney show but you deal with the cards you’re dealt & make the most of it. Ur giving her the most amazing role model. A mom who loves her but who loves herself too. Loves her self enough to leave the mister behind, enough to pick up the pcs everyday & wake up and deal with the day ahead. You inspire me
& im sure u’ll have a well balance, happy big kid.
One last mini rant – duuuude how the heck are we supposed to go to work, come home (kid & parent exhausted), cook, clean, do laundry (or even 1 of the above), put them to bed at a decent time & still have time to sit down & play! Eeee
you are doing everything right. the right for you. we all worry and freak out.
i believe in you.
I parent with mental illness. It is not the easiest thing to talk about, or deal with or work through. I have an “easy” life. A partner, who is amazing, and makes good enough money so that I don’t have to. Never complains about the disaster that is my living room. Always supportive, and gives me breaks.
And without my meds, I am anxious, sometimes suicidal, and am barely able to function. And yet – there is really NOTHING wrong. I’m not sad. I’m just sick.
My oldest is 7. And he picks up on my anxiety. I have gotten to the point where I can say “Sorry guys. Mommy has to get out of here now. Now. Right now. Let’s go”. And they respect that. And they leave with me.
I feel like I burden them with that – but at the same time, knowing that I’m not perfect, but I am trying, and I’m doing the best I can…well – that has to be something, right?
Mook is doing well. A testament to how hard you work to put your stuff aside and parent and love her. A “good” parent isn’t just the one who gets down and plays 24/7. A “good” parent teaches their kids what life is like. Sometimes you play, sometimes you don’t.
Keep up the great work – I’m glad you posted. I followed you here from Violet’s blog a while ago, and have been coming back ever since.