I make an effort to be a great mom. Someone who teaches their kids manners, respect, responsibility and kindness. I preach do unto others as you have done unto you, but I have been known to make some pretty clear parenting mistakes. Some of them are pretty simple ones that everyone tells you not to do, like never wake a sleeping baby or don’t give them a pacifier (that rule has changed however, I was just ahead of the times ). Some others………
Liam woke up every hour and a half to nurse when he was an infant, so the pediatrician suggested I nurse him in my bed while I slept. As a result, Liam was in my bed until Quinn was born, six years later, not nursing, just sleeping. We still have occasional sleep overs.
I have allowed the kids to eat a peach out of my wine and peaches at the Feast of San Gennaro.
There have been times when Liam was especially snotty or bossy towards me and when he turned his back to walk away, I gave him the finger. I didn’t mean it, I just had to blow off some steam.
They have a television in their room. I have been ostracized from a whole playgroup for this one. However, by 9pm, mommy is donions. I am not watching one more episode of Yo Gabba Gabba. It keeps them in their room and quiet. I know, I’m horrible, but I am up on all my episodes of The Walking Dead, Vikings, Duck Dynasty and coming soon, Game of Thrones. Don’t hate.
I am honest with my kids. Not there is no Santa honest, but you can’t have that new action figure, video game or whatever the heck it is he wants now because today is neither Christmas or you birthday and I can’t afford to buy you something every time we walk into the store or yes your Aunt Maria is getting married for a third time, she is just one of those people who does not want to be alone, she likes to be married. If they ask me a reasonable question, I answer them truthfully. He asked me if I would tell him where babies come from and I said no. He wanted to know why and I said because he is nine and there is no reason on God‘s great earth why he should know about that. Bye Bye.
I potty trained Quinn with jellybeans. I was starting to think his baby sister would be trained before he was. Plus, there is no difference between a three-year olds poop and a full-grown man’s poop and that is just disgusting and unmanageable.
They have missed a meal, they have stayed up too late, they have eaten too much crap. Quinn is constantly stealing my coffee and drinking it, no matter where I hide it. I let them watch Johnny Bravo and SpongeBob SquarePants, because I love it and it is friggin hilarious and they don’t get the jokes anyway because it is loaded with double entendre. I have let them beat the crap out of each other just because I was tired of breaking up fights. I sat back and let them resolve it. I have also fought some of their battles for them, when they were at the playground and a group of kids wouldn’t let anyone else go down the slide. That day I said something gently to those mean, shitfaced little brats and then I went over to their mothers, who were at the park gossiping with each other, letting their children terrorize the playground unsupervised.
It’s not fun to be the one who has to say no all the time, so I won’t. I know there are parenting guides and rule books, all for good reason. Bending the rules a bit is what works for me. I became an adult under tremendous protest. I still want to have fun, I still want to laugh while I cry and I still want ice cream for breakfast sometimes and to ride the roller coaster. Maybe that makes me a lousy example for my children, but what if it doesn’t? What if it works out just right and they turn out just fine? It’s all part of my master plan. Just you wait and see, time will tell. Even a goofball can raise normal well-adjusted adults, they will just come with a touch of funny, a hint of smartass and a pinch of good time.