Quit Calling Me Mom - Honest Reflections On Why Parenting Kinda Sucks

I have been accused of having a bit of a controlling nature. Well, sadly, there might be some truth to that, especially when it comes to making ANYTHING in the kitchen with my children. I stare in awe when I see parents hand their kids the mixing bowl, flour, etc and say, “Let’s bake something together honey! It’ll be fun!” Actually, Mama Martha, it will NOT be fun. It will be a mess! Have you ever seen a 4 year old crack an egg or pour flour from one bowl to another? Their hand eye coordination is not yet up to snuff so that cake will surely be crunchy and there will be at least ¼ of the flour OUTSIDE of the bowl. Listen, I like to keep my time in the kitchen to a minimum as it is, so I REALLY do not wish to do extra math to gauge how much of the cup of sugar is now on the counter and how much more I need to add to the actual bowl. That’s not what I went in there for. My daughter (21 years old at this writing) is a superb cook. I mean, she’s creative and fearless and makes restaura...

 Evidently there’s a parenting style out there where the Mom says to everyone in the house, “You will eat what I put in front of you or you will not eat.” Yeahhhh, soooo that wasn’t really my style but I didn’t even think about it until my son came along. See, my daughter was agreeable in this area (she later became EXTREMELY disagreeable in ALL other areas once she was like 13, but I digress). She’d eat whatever flavored rice, Shake-n-Bake chicken in a bag situation I put in front of her. Since I don’t even like second level veggies like brussel sprouts and that hateful lima bean, she was safe from my ever putting them on her plate. I stuck to the basics…broccoli, string beans, corn. You know... kid veggies. Well, here comes Sir Picky, King of the Beige Diet. If it wasn’t cheese pizza, grilled cheese or mac-n-cheese, he really had no use for it. I’d try to slip some ground turkey into his mac-n-cheese, just to end up watching him dig around in his mouth to extract the minusc...

One of the most popular questions for parents of newborns is, “How is the baby sleeping?” I have asked this question many times but I must admit that it was for petty reasons. I wanted them to say that the kid actually never slept at all. My misery wanted company. I literally despise people who tell me their babies have been sleeping through the night as soon as they got home from the hospital. First off, you’re lying. Secondly, why must we always play this game where you have to be better than I? Finally, you’re a damn liar (Yep, I listed that twice on a very short list). I don’t believe it and I have decided that it’s not real. It’s like those people who like to brag about their baby walking super early. You want a gold star for them being able to wreck your house and wind up in the ER at 8 months old when everyone knows they are MUCH easier to keep alive when they stay where you put them? I don’t believe your baby walked that early and I’ve got another bulletin for you…. NO ONE ...

Let me be clear. I love my children. I even planned them. I’m talking counting days and ovulation tests to get them here. I wanted them, prayed for them, danced a jig when I saw those positive pregnancy tests. Feeling their kicks was pure joy.   They are two people I would kill for (well at least maim—I don’t look great in orange or jumpsuits). I kiss and hug them non-stop. They are my favorites. HOWEVER…they get on my #$%^& nerves. I mean, no one drives me bonkers quite like those two. They are the primary reason  that I journal, use hair dye, and why my fridge might not have milk in it, but always has wine. So, I’m writing this blog for all of us. The ones who truly love their children but have had thoughts of driving them to a  forest and leaving them there. Oh, that’s just me? Yeah, ok. I’m tired of the shaming of “real” parents. I’m tired of the fake smiles and the stories about how motherhood is the  best thing since sliced bread.   I’m...