I am a Bad Mother

This is Max. (That is not his real name but for the purposes of this blog it is what he would prefer to be called.)

And this is me.

As you can see, we are clearly related. I am Max's mother.  I am also a Bad Mother.  This is something that is rarely said aloud but often eluded to by looks and comments from those who are not Bad Mothers. I  have been branded a Bad Mother for a variety of reasons and I have finally come to a point in my life where I accept and embrace it. A few friends feel I should have a TV show called Bad Mother but I'm not sure it would make it to Jersey Shore ratings so for now I'll settle for blogging.

What makes YOU a Bad Mother you ask?  And why would someone label themselves as a Bad Mother with a tone that reeks pride? Well, as I said before, I am a Bad Mother for a plethora of reasons:

I am a Bad mother because I dress my child like an 8 year-old version of me.

I am a Bad Mother because in the winter when it gets dark early, I sometimes trick him into going to bed at 7:00.

I am a Bad Mother because I have a nose ring.

I am a Bad Mother because sometimes I have a glass of wine 

(or 2, or 3 . . .) with dinner.

I am a Bad Mother because I have a slight crush on his karate teacher.

I am a Bad Mother because I didn't take him to church for a while but I did teach him how to be loving, generous, tolerant, compassionate and forgiving like Jesus. (Apparently, you can't learn that outside of a church. Who knew!)

I am a Bad Mother because I curse. 

I am a Bad Mother because sometimes I resent doing it alone.

I am a Bad Mother because every once in a while I want to go out. With adults. At night. To a bar or club. What's wrong with me?

I am a Bad Mother because I hate kid's movies so I train my child to like action flicks (especially ones with Superheroes) so I can take him to see those in the theater.

I am a Bad Mother because sometimes I get lonely.

I am a Bad Mother because sometimes we eat pickles as a vegetable for dinner.

I am a Bad Mother because I'm doing the best I can.

Whew! Long list, right? By now you're probably thinking of calling child services but before you do so, think on this for a second: For all of the amazing parenting that your parents probably did, did it erase any of your issues? Did you grow up without any problems at all? I'm guessing for some of us all that amazing parenting probably resulted in years of therapy. So, if I'm such a Bad Mother I'd like someone with a Perfect Mother to talk to me about what that looks like.  

I've come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as Perfect Mother. It is smoke screens and mirrors to make us all feel inadequate.  I think the only kind of mothers out there are Human Mothers: mothers trying their best not to screw their kids up TOO much. And that is ok.  Because behind all my Bad Motherhood there is simply a woman who loves her child so much she's willing to learn and grow with him.  If you feel the same way you're probably a Bad Mother too even if you don't have kids yet.

And on the next episode of Bad Mother . . . The Barbershop . . .