As I write this, one of my children is asking if I’ll read them a story. Another is sulking because I snapped at them for not having a shower after I’d asked four times. My dogs are looking plaintively at me because they haven’t been walked today. And we ate takeaway for dinner.
It’s no small irony that I’m writing about the movie Bad Moms 2 while feeling like a Bad Mum. I’ve been feeling that way – borderline despair and absolute overwhelm with a side order of defeated panic – all week.
In fact when I saw a girlfriend on the weekend, I confessed to her I was feeling quite teary at the moment because I was going through one of those phases where I feel a bit shit about the quality of my parenting. Or the quantity. Or the quality and the quantity. Shit. I’m shit.
You see, I have a lot on at the moment. Most mothers do at any given time in our lives. And it’s rare that the only thing on our plate is motherhood. Whether it’s work or health issues or mental health or caring for older parents or siblings or friends or moving house or unemployment or a promotion or pregnancy or miscarriage or infertility or financial trouble….most things in life aren’t predictable or in our control. They come flying at us like frisbees and we desperately have to try and catch them before they whack us in the head.
Whack, whack, whack-whack. Whackity-whack. Ouch.
After the most recent school holidays, I drove into work and dropped the kids off – and exhaled just a little bit. Because I tend to spend large chunks of every school holidays feeling guilty and inadequate. I feel like every other mother is organising nonstop fun activities. Vacations. Excursions to museums and the circus and water parks and nature walks and the movies and bowling and laser tag and the zoo and all the places I never take my kids because I secretly hate them except not secretly. In my defence though, kids have…what….about 14 weeks of holidays per year and adults get four weeks of annual leave and maybe no weeks if you’re self-employed? YOU DO THE MATH ON THAT.
Top Comments
Well said Mia. Being a martyr gets you nowhere and I love the bit about not turning out little narcissists although I believe they are born not made and meeting their every wish makes them worse lol.
Hell yes! I'm the bad Mum who forgot the recorder concert in grade 4, which my 17 year old son insists on reminding me of every time he's feeling hard done by. I also failed to enrol him in several forms of sport which were 'essential' to his development. There are other failings too numerous to recount here!
I did however sit with him through countless doctors appointments, medical tests and several surgeries. As I did for his 3 siblings. A lot of my adult life was spent keeping my four children healthy/alive and I don't regret any of it but I failed miserably to be super Mum. I didn't keep the house clean, keep up with the washing or hand in notices on time. I didn't ferry children in all directions for anything other than doctors appointments!
I did the best I could with what I had.
My 17 year old 'baby' thinks he's hard done by but I know better.