Thursday, September 20, 2012

"I'm a bitch...I'm a mother..."

I love Jen! Go visit her! Click here!
 Oh, the Mommy Wars. It seems like us mama's can't help but to feel like we're all in competition with each other. I often feel the pressure myself, and let my comparisons to other Mamas make me feel like shit. And often, in close-knit mama circles, the snark comes out, and we go on the attack about the way other mamas dress, feed, discipline and diaper their children.
 
While mamas in packs can be Mean Girls, nothing makes the mama equivalent of beer muscles come out like the internet. I see women spouting off insults and flinging criticism to women they have never even met, picking apart their choices as women and parents. Vicious  things that I imagine would never be said face to face. I have seen whole blogs solely devoted to how much one person thinks another mother just sucks, and after I wonder, Isn't there a better way to do this?

I have been fortunate(?) enough to have never received any true nastiness concerning my parenting choices, to my face or on my blog, nothing beyond a few thoughtless, mainly harmless comments here and there. But, perhaps, I have been the victim of snark and stabs behind my back. I imagine so- there are thousands of mamas and millions of ways to parent and not everyone is on the same page. And that is totally okay. It is. Our children would not grow up to be all kind of amazing if we didn't raise them all kind of ways.

But, hey. I'll make it easy on the snark-throwers. I can hand you a list of reasons why I am a miserable failure as a parent. Thanks, Jen at Life With Levi, for the inspiration:


{drumroll please}

Potty training is breaking my brain. By the time I get PJ using the potty I'll be pissing in my own pants.

I am already that impatient with potty training after 3 days.

I secretly love it when PJ wakes up in the early morning and comes into our bed for more snuggles. I love waking up with my whole little family together.

I try to make sure PJ eats a healthy, balanced, nutritious diet, but sometimes he has birthday cake for dinner.

PJ finally learned to give kisses, so I ask him for them a squajillion times a day. Hopefully, this won't damage his psyche by the time he's ready to kiss other girls.

I breastfed PJ until he self-weaned at 20 months. And I cried the first, full, non-nursing day. I still miss nursing him- it was an amazing, bonding, powerful experience for me. I totally kept a person alive with my hooters!

I am a horrible housekeeper. It's a damn mess in here. The only reason my living room is neat on a regular basis is because PJ has therapy in here 4 times a week!

Poor PJ is, just now, at nearly three, allowed to play in a different room then I am in. I fully 'fess up to being the nervous mama I never thought I'd be.

PJ is not only circumcised, he's super circ'ed. On his 8 month birthday, he underwent surgery to correct hypospadias, a minor birth defect of the penis in which the urethra does not grow properly. And if we didn't need to pimp his penis, we would have circ'ed him anyway. At his bris. Because I'm Jewish.

And yes, I'm Jewish, and I want my son to share in the cultural experience of my religion, as well as his father's (Catholic). But I don't care if he's religious or belongs to either/or. I do hope he has a faith in a higher power and grows up to be a good, kind person.

Oh, this one isn't exactly my fail, but my husband taught PJ to say "Ba ba booey". It, apparently, is a Howard Stern thing. I'm thinking of teaching PJ to call Adam Levine "Daddy".

I am imposing my status as a Giant Book Nerd on my son. It wouldn't upset me if he ever chose to stay in and read a book instead of playing outside.

Sometimes PJ's Autism frustrates me. Then I get frustrated for feeling like that. Then I get frustrated because I have nobody to vent to. Then I remember that I wouldn't saddle someone with all of that, anyway.

McDonald's? That happens.

I'm always the worst-dressed mama at the playground.

For every one of these failures, I have a million wins. Because I am really good at being a mom.

Look, everyone has that thing that makes them roll their eyes. Mine is parents who speak in a very gentle voice, kindly asking their child to please listen to directions while their little angel is bludgeoning another child over by  the see-saOMG WOULD YOU JUST STOP THEM ALREADY??? (Ooops.) And it's what makes us human, not bad humans, just human. None of us are perfect. But the parents, particularly the women who whisper behind their hands or worse, hide behind their computers and spill venom from their fingers are the ones damaging the very name of parenthood, the thing that makes us all so amazing in all of our different ways. And that's the thing. Different. Not better. Not worse.

Thanks Jen, for turning a discussion on your Facebook page into such an amazing display of what makes us all so strong and different as mothers. I knew I liked you for a reason! ;-)

1 comment:

Shelly said...

I could never look at you and think failure-you are brave and lovely and loved. And about the potty training-this is my third time and still it makes me want to curse like a wexler. :) hahaha love you!