“Oh no, they did not just say that out loud!” said my shocked husband as I read to him from the new book _ Sh*tty Mom,_ a totally hilarious and uncensored look at some of the impossible situations we mothers find ourselves in. We’re not talking about just the run of the mill breast milk stains and poop explosions here. For example, there are chapters called “Organized Sports Might Be Great for the Kids, but They Suck for You” and "He Wants Sex, You Want to Sew Your Legs Shut for Ten Years."
Moms, it’s either laugh or cry sometimes, and authors Laurie Kilmartin, Karen Moline, Alicia Ybarbo and Mary Ann Zoellner choose to laugh. What a relief from all the fretting and over analyzing I'm always doing about my mama job!
How do you know if you’re a Sh*tty Mom? Answer these questions:
Did you hate kids before you had one?
Do you hate them even more now (except yours?)
When people say, “Being a mom is so exhausting,” do you think, “Not the way I do it”?
Are you willing to sacrifice some of your child’s happiness so you can sleep for another hour?
Do you ignore any pediatrician’s orders that you don’t agree with?
Does your kid have to have a fever above 100 degrees before you’ll keep him home?
If your kid does have a 100-degree fever, do you debate raising the “keep him home” fever ceiling to 101 degrees?
If you accept the premise that there are two kinds of moms at the park, “Plays with Her Children Mom” and “Texts from the Bench Mom,” then are you the latter?
If you had to choose a babysitter who:
a) Plays with your children but arrives late
b) Ignores your children but arrives on time, would you choose b? (No fair saying you’d make “a” come early.)
Did becoming a mom make you realize that your own mother was worse than you thought?
If you answered yes to three or more questions, you are a Sh*tty Mom.
Let's face it, we've all had Sh*tty Mom moments. Like the time I read the weather report for NY by accident and sent my LA kids to school in long sleeves and pants on a 90 degree day. Or the time I gave my daughter a piece of chocolate to get her to stop crying while I was on the phone. Or how about the time I really acted my age and in retaliation threw all my son's DVDs in the pool he had just chucked my cell phone in? Unfortunately, I could go on and on.
If you’re ready to laugh and embrace your imperfectly perfect self in "the parenting guide for the rest of us," you can find a copy here.
Are you a Shtty Mom? What’s your Shtty Mom moment confession?