Tag Archives: Mommy Guilt

Back-to-School Pinterest Bitches

29 Aug

It’s that time of year again. The kids are going back to school, Target is abuzz with harried moms, the beaches are emptying, I’m still not tan and shit’s about to get real on Pinterest:

I went to Ocean State Job Lot and bought my daughter’s school supplies. After washing last year’s perfectly good bag, I packed it very neatly, wrote her a little ‘good luck’ note and felt like a mom rock star. Then this bitch went and did this:

Why God? Why?

How and more importantly why?

And then her asshole mom friend did this:

I started this project and then ate all of the rolos.

I started this project and then accidentally ate all of the Rolos.

Sweet baby Jesus in the sky, why do people have to be so crafty?

I had a glass of wine, felt inspired and worked on this little project. Evidently, you’re not supposed to use a blow torch to melt the Crayons:

Drink wine and fuck up crafts.

Drink wine and fuck up crafts.

Raise your hand if your kids’ last three years of school pictures are somewhere in the bottom of your “To Do” file. #mustmailtorelativesbeforecollege.

I’m just glad that my kids’ socks match and that I don’t look like Amanda Bynes at the bus stop. (<—–Lie. I always look like Amanda Bynes at the bus stop.)

Don't forget your lunch, kids! Mommy loves you.

Don’t forget your lunch, kids! Mommy loves you.


The moms who won’t let it go. Even into the college years:

My mom's weird and she makes me do tricks.

My mom’s weird and she makes me do tricks.


I’m not even sure what this is? A lemonade stand? For school shit?

I don't understand.

I don’t understand. What exactly are you selling? Explain yourself.

I’m still trying to figure out which summer camp to send my kids to. And then this mom is all:

So now we're supposed to have back-to-school parties for our children?

Don’t forget the personalized chalkboard.

And then there are the moms that rush things:

I call bullshit. Everyone knows that three year olds are too young for Kindy. Nice try, mom.

I call bullshit. Everyone knows that three-year olds are too young for Kindy. Nice try, kid.

Nothing says the most important meal of the day quite like a super crafty breakfast and a diorama of…the first day of school. This mom stayed up until four in the morning preparing this. I hate her:

I just feel like this sets high expectations. If I did this and then tried to give my kids an organic poptart the next morning, I'd be knifed.

How to give your child explosive diarrhea on their first day of school. Also, if I did this and then tried to give my kids an organic pop tart the next morning, I’d be knifed.

And here is a baby in glasses laying on a book. Just cuz.

Smartest baby ever.

Smartest baby ever.

Here’s to overdue library books, forgotten show-and-tell days, last-minute book reports and a whole lot of self forgiveness.

Have a great year! Don’t forget to wear pants to the bus stop.


Mother Cluckin Guilt

3 Feb

In the wake of two great articles, Don’t Carpe Diem and Friendly Fire, going viral, we thought it was an appropriate time to publish this guest blog submitted a few weeks ago. 
“I’m not one of those mothers.” I hear my conscience saying that often.

As if it would be so bad to have your whole family out in stained pajamas, eating McDonalds?

Remember when McDonald's was a treat and not the devil?

Mother Clucking Guilt. We look around and judge. Ourselves, others, internally, out loud. To anyone who will affirm that we are better moms than those that we judge.

Your friend puts her kids to bed at 9:00 pm, you scoff and think, how could she keep that baby up so late? Yours are blissfully dreaming at 7:00 pm…and then at 10:00 pm and 1:00 am and…now who’s the dummy?

So when you said family bed, you meant it literally.

For the most part we’re just critiquing ourselves by comparing our strategies and philosophies to others. Hell, my writing this post is merely a shot out to the Universe “AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?!”

And what’s right and what’s wrong as a mother? Does anyone have a guidebook to navigating the world of cloth diapers, homemade baby food, paraben free, no pvbs, pvcs, bfps, (what do these acronyms stand for?) Can’t we just stop putting bad shit in our stuff so we do not have to do this song and dance? At least I don’t smoke crack or spank my kids. Right?

And then we go to Target looking for “organic” baby wash products on sale. Doesn’t that defeat the larger purpose by giving  money to big corporations?

Can you tell me where the composters are? I swear I'm a hippie.

Man. It’s tough to be a mom. We all compare notes and offer advice and still have guilt.

If you’re a stay at home mom (SAHM) – See, we even have acronyms for different types of moms now. Aren’t we just moms? Period? – you feel guilty for not contributing financially but you’re supposed to feel good that you’re there for your kids “full-time.” You stay home and cater to everyone but yourself and then feel guilty for wanting a life of your own.

"If anyone needs me, Mommy will be anesthetizing herself with vodka in the bathtub..."

If you “work outside of the home” (it’s no longer politically correct to say working mom unless you want a mob of stay at home moms on your door step) you feel guilty for putting your kids in childcare and not spending enough time with them.

"Yes, that's M for Mental Hospital..."

Or you’re one of the “lucky” moms with a work at home job situation. Because it’s so easy to get work done with your two-year old clung to your leg.

"Now wait. Let's think outside the box here...Henry put the blowtorch down."

Mom Guilt is a whore. You feel her with you all of the time. Guilty if you let your kids snack too much, not enough, or not on the right things. Guilty if you don’t cloth diaper, breast feed or feed them 100% organic food. Guilty if you accidentally swear in front of your kids, guilty if you drink in front of your kids, guilty if you yell at your kids. It’s like one big guilt trip train ride and we’re all just fueling the engine with more guilt by looking around and judging. Then that inner critic gets the best of us and we fall into the traps of modern society.

Where did we go wrong and when did this guilt start? Is it just in America or is this happening all over the world? Do these mothers feel guilty? I’d say not. Those bitches have flying saucers hanging from their lips.

Nope. No guilt. Just a tremendous amount of pain.

Why do Moms bear the burden of guilt for the whole family? Did I screw up my kids while I was pregnant, did they inherit my aunt’s crazy gene? Should I baptize, christen or even cover religion given society? We’re creating rounded individuals folks, let’s not for one minute forget to give them faith!

I'm feeling slightly unstable.

I had my eighty-year old grandmother stay with us for a weekend and I knew I was under strict scrutiny. A mother to six kids post World War II era. She has withstood the test of a fifty plus year marriage (how?), has raised kids, fed her kids formula (because it was a women rights issue not to!) and marched right into this century feeling no guilt at all. She observed the ways of the new mom era and told me that she thought that the way we do it is better. We focus more on the kids and less on our husbands, house and other stuff. (Dig.) Although she did tell me my windows were dirty.

"Is this pan just darling!"

She also commended me on how I nursed my baby, on how patient I was with my children, on how I let them run amuck all throughout the house (that never would have flown in her day). And I left the weekend feeling pretty good about myself. After all, I do have good kids. Except for when they pee in public.

I tried to sell my cloth diaper collection the other day and I could not work up the courage to actually part ways. Not because they are better for my baby and not because I think they are absolutely adorable, but because I was worried what others might think. “See she couldn’t do it…I told you.” I could hear the schizophrenic judging all the way to the laundry room so I did my best and gave it another shot. Day two and my kids have done a combined eleven poops. Who’s really winning this battle? And what’s a little bit of chlorine going to do anyway?
Rather than live with all this pent up guilt, I’ll just say it and rid myself of the dead (midriff) weight I’ve been carrying around:

 I don’t sterilize the pacifiers every time they fall on the floor.

I don’t brush my kids’ teeth twice daily.

I let my kids watch T.V. (“T.V.! T.V.! T.V.!” That’s all I hear now.)

I don’t spend ALL day playing educational games with the kids.

I don’t always wipe when the kids pee. (They’re boys!) But I do try to wipe when I pee.

I feed my baby formula when I want a night of libations and liberations. What’s the point of exclusively breast feeding if your baby is getting wine in their milk?

I floss once a week.

I eat the rest of my kid’s meals. (Which quite honestly are homemade organic goodies that I make because I’m a chef.)

I literally begged for an epidural. When they told me I couldn’t have one, I acted like a complete baby until they got me one. There were two babies in the room for about 10 minutes. Me and the one inside me.

I take pregnancy tests monthly. Not that we don’t use birth control because we do, er, sometimes. But because I am tremendously scared of having 3 under 3. 2 under 2 is like having twins except one can run and the other can’t.

I get woken up by kids at least 3 times a week.

I had a glass of wine while I was pregnant.

I am never going to be a size 2 again. A normal body will have to do. Oh the humanity.

I have not decided which Catholic Montessori Charter school my kid will go to in 2 years.

And the list goes on and on and on…

But there are a lot of things I do right and someday I will just have to give myself credit for them. Until then, hopefully my daily glass of wine ritual has not screwed my sons up for life.

Thanks Mom.

Let’s all take a chapter from Glennon Melton’s book and put the guns down.

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