Bad Mommy!

Yesterday, while we were driving to Hueston Woods for an afternoon hike, I was staring out the car window in a sleepy, day-dreamy state. Slowly I became aware that Charlie was repeating something over and over: "didn't strap Charlie yet, Mommy. No strap Charlie. No straps yet, Mommy. Poor Charlie, no straps..." I pulled myself back to reality and turned around to find Charlie desperately trying to buckle himself into his carseat. Eek! Bad mommy!

I often use this blog as a chance to vent about my kids, but as this scary blunder illustrates, I have my own moments of being less than perfect. Loyal readers, you've only been getting one side of the story. So, for the sake of fairness, I'd like to share a few of the ways I am a bad, bad mommy:

1) I let my baby cry sometimes. When new moms lament about never getting a shower, I wonder if I should share my guilty secret...I take a shower every day. At 8:00 am, when Curious George comes on, I know Charlie will be spellbound for about 10 minutes. I just make sure the baby is fed, dry, and safely tucked in his crib, and I jump in the shower. Sometimes he's content, sometimes he cries until I'm out, but either way I start the day feeling like I had a little time for myself.

2) I use fear to teach lessons. I never thought I'd do this. I never thought I'd tell my child that he will be squished like a bug if he runs into the street. But fear works better than other techniques during desperate moments and usually the words have come tumbling out of my mouth before I've thought through the implications. My scare tactics are sinking in: a couple weeks ago I angrily asked Charlie if he knows what will happen if he keeps shaking his sippy cup and he solemnly replied "a mean man will take me and I won't get to see grandpa and grandma anymore". Well, no, honey...I was going to say you will get juice on the rug. But I like your answer, too.

3) I take Sundays off. Our family has the wonderful tradition of spending Sunday afternoons at Billy's parents' house (a tradition his family started with his grandparents when Billy was growing up). Most wonderfully of all, the house is full of competent, helpful people who love my children, so I never have to worry about who they're with or what they're doing. After a long week full of long days of being constantly responsible for my kids' well-being, I have the tendency to space out and let the boys run free at grandma's house. Sometimes, as we head back to Oxford on Sunday evening, I wonder if the Meiers think I'm a deadbeat mom. Or at least a really lenient one.

So there you have it. Charlie can drive me crazy at times, and Jimmy covers me in all sorts of goo, but I can make life hard on them, too.