I am so tired of being a Bad Mommy. How do I know I am a Bad Mommy? Because my daughter keeps telling me. She is almost four.

I try my hardest every doggone day. Some days my hardest is pretty pathetic. Some days it is near-heroic.

And every day she cries for her father, her grandparents, her cousins. She tells me "I don't like you." She hits and fights and lies refuses to listen and I am so incredibly sick of it.

I know that there is nothing that can take the place of the mother, but I am at the point where I would be willing to test that statement.

I know that she is only four; I know that she doesn't understand all of what she is saying and doing. I know that she certainly doesn't mean to break my heart every single night. But I also know that other kids don't seem to be doing this. Other kids are talking about Jesus and helping and being like Mommy.

Which means that every night I get on my knees, sometimes in tears, and pray to know what I am doing wrong.

Do, re, me, me, ME

I read this today and it hit me hard: The me, me, me generation: Have youths in America bought into 'entitlement' mentality?

Right between the eyes hard.

I've started a discussion over on my latest blog, but I don't care where you deposit your two cents, I just want to talk about it.

I Married Pretty Well.

This is an email I got from my husband this morning, and I thought it was pretty appropriate for this site. So, props to the absentee father, W.

I am here at work this Saturday morning, and am consciously taking it easy by looking around the net for things that make me think of you. And as I was reading a couple of blogs, I linked to kottke.org, a pretty interesting blog about random things. I saw this blog about kids and parenting and how it's not all it's cracked up to be. And it made me think about you, and how we were talking last night, and how you are feeling bad because you can't do all the things you used to be able to do. Here's an excerpt:

"The cliché refers to newborn children as "bundles of joy," but recent research indicates that bundles of anxiety, or even bundles of depression, might be more accurate

"Parents "definitely experienced more depression," says Robin Simon, a sociologist at Florida State University who has studied data on parenting.

"Part of our cultural beliefs is that we derive all this joy from kids," says Simon. "It's really hard for people who don't feel this to admit it." Social pressures to view only the positive aspects of child rearing only make the problem worse, she says. "They're afraid to admit it because it runs so counter to our cultural beliefs that children make you happy."

Simon points out what any parent knows very well: Children, especially young children, can create lots of work and stress. "There are very many positive things that come out of having kids, but it's a mixed bag," she says. "They are demanding. They are a responsibility, and it's a responsibility that doesn't end."

And I thought about you and us and how you keep saying that Jooj is so good and you shouldn't be mad/sad/upset/frustrated. And I think that you're selling yourself a bill of goods. Kids are hard. They are depressing, and are TONS of work. I know this just from the (sadly) limited interaction I get with her, and have been feeling pretty bad about wanting to curse at her in the two hours a day I spent with her by myself when I was home.

Don't get me wrong- I want kids. I love Jooj and I know that we're unbelievably blessed to have her in our family, and she is rewarding and awesome. Here's another excerpt:

Changing a diaper isn't enjoyable, and teenagers can be such a pain in the ass, but having kids can also be a profound source of meaning for people. (I like the amateur marathoner metaphor: survey a marathoner in the midst of the race and they'll complain about their legs and that rash and how the race seems like it's taking forever. But when the running is over they are always incredibly proud of their accomplishment. Having kids, then, is like a marathon that lasts 18 years.)

Bottom line is, I am proud of you. I don't begrudge you feeling bad, and modern science doesn't either. Parents, and especially Mormon mothers, get a lot of pressure from a lot of angles to treat kids as shiny delicate glass balls full of pixie dust and platinum that should be set on a shrine in the living room like some sort of Asian family altar, and I completely disagree. For my money, it's ok to think of them as poopy, whiny, snotty, loud little blessings. It's ok to be frustrated and mad, and it's ok to secretly wish that your life is the way it used to be. Because at the end of the day, you're a great mom and you're doing a great job with Jooj.

That's all. I love you.

Bad Mommy...

Confession.

So last weekend I had this feeling I needed to take my flu virus ridden 20 month old to the urgent care center to have her ears checked out. She hadn't been sleeping well and felt miserable.

But... I figured since her big sister who's prone to ear infections came back from her appointment that Mon without an ear infection... and a Daddy who took her saying "I told you so".... that I was just being my typical over-reacting self.

You should see how often I go to the doctor... I'm a little nuts.

Finally on Tuesday I take my poor ... baggy eyed baby to the doctor. She has an ear infection. The left is worse than the right...and I am devastated.

I feel like the meanest mommy in the world. The doctor knows me well enough that he tries to pretend he doesn't seem me with the tears...he tells me not to crucify myself.

I know better... I know that when she was up every hour for a boobie I was getting grumpy-tired. I know that even though she stuck to me like glue every morning and I loved it...I was also trying to figure out how I could distract her so I could get chores done.

All I could do was kiss my baby and tell her I was sorry. Oh...and apologize for being so mean and agreeing when her Daddy said to turn off the monitor at night... he said she'd need to learn to cry it out and learn to sleep. This was before we knew for sure it was an ear infection... but she was still sick. I let him do that... what is wrong with me? She was in pain and needed me.

Anyway... my little wake up call to trust my instinct ...and always better to be sure. Poor baby - she's my little happy one that loves to turn to smile at me.

You're A Good Mom

So I just had to share this book review that I found at Parenting.com (actually-- it came from a free Parenting magazine that was sent to me a while back. For some reason I get random free issues of Parenting magazine. Perhaps someone has taken pity on my poor children and signed me up for a "gift" subscription?)

What today's parenting lingo would have meant to our moms:

• Floor time Time spent waxing the kitchen floor
• Time-Out A short break during a sporting event, or taking a break from the laundry to watch Days of Our Lives
• Kindergarten readiness Your kid's fifth birthday
• Use your words "Knock it off, kids!"
• Quality time Reading the paper in the car outside the theater where the kids are seeing The Bad News Bears
• Teachable moments School

-From Your a Good Mom (And Your Kids Aren't So Bad Either), by Jen Singer


Call me old fashioned, but....

My own version of good, better, best:

Good or good enough.


Your thoughts, please.

How do you balance being a Mommy with a member of a larger family?

I just had to send out an email canceling our trip to California to see our families. I prayed about it, I know it was the right thing to do, but I just feel like a bad person. (I canceled it because Jooj has been really troubled lately with everything--sickness, tantrums, general sadness, everything. And she needs stability and quiet and sleep in her own bed. Not a vacation.)

Why am I feeling so guilty for disappointing my extended family, when I should be feeling proud for being the mother of my children, and putting my OWN family first?

How do you find a balance between the old relationships and roles and the new ones?

Last night being a good mommy was incredibly hard. We talked, for the first time, about how she is adopted. It came about pretty naturally: We were talking about temples. I told her how she went to the temple with us when she was a baby, so that we could be her parents forever.

"Baby Jooj go to temple?"
"Yes."
"Baby Nora (her cousin) go to temple?"
"Well, no."
"Why?"

So we talked about how Baby Nora came out of Tia Amy's belly, so they didn't have to go to the temple. And Baby Jooj didn't come out of mommy's belly, so...

"Baby Jooj in you belly."
"No, Mami can't get babies in her belly. Mami's belly is broken."
"No! Baby Jooj go in YOU belly."
"No, honey, Mami's belly is broken, so Heavenly Father put Baby Jooj in Diana's belly. Then Diana brought you to us, because Mami and Papi and Jooj are a family."
"No, I go in YOU belly. No Diana."
"I wish you were in my belly, Jooj, but Mami's belly is broken."
"You belly need batteries?"
"Yes, Mami's belly needs special batteries."
"Oh. Es Ok?"
"Oh yes, Mami is ok. And Jooj is my baby forever."

And it was so hard.

I love my daughter, I love my family, and I love that, through adoption, I am able to have her with me. And I know that telling her about adoption is important--it is not like we can hide it and she can meet her twin at summer camp and switch places in order to reconnect her father and I in love and marriage and groovy guitar songs. But I didn't expect it to hurt my heart to tell her.

I so wanted to say "You came from my belly--you and me have been together, even as little tiny cells inside Grammy Su, forever. I felt you kick, I loved you every second of the day. I fed you with my every heart beat, and I pushed you out and held you the instant you were born. You are mine and will never feel the need to seek out another mother, another person who shares your cells."

But I couldn't. Because it isn't true.

I know that she loves me. I know she is MINE. But our talk last night was the start of my biggest fear--that she will not feel like she is mine entirely, any longer. I know we will talk about it again and again, and I worry that, each time, she will feel drawn to another woman, another family, another set of siblings. Maybe she won't--maybe we are enough for her. But the fear is there.

Bad Mommy Day

This is a guest post from my friend Susie.


Today was one of those days. You know, the one where you're like "Please remind me why I signed on for this?" Not that you need to remind me, I already know the reason. It is the highest calling. I know this.


So today, I picked Ethan up from school and he told me how good he was, his teacher even gave him a special gift for showing such great behavior. I was very pleased. I have seen him make tremendous improvements in the last few months. Anyone who knows Ethan is aware of how busy and precocious he can be. And his energy level is through the roof. He is also very obstinate. Which makes for a challenging child, and my patience is tested every day. When Ethan was two he ran away from me constantly. It didn't matter if we were in a mall, airport, restaurant, Walmart,or our house. I resorted to putting latches on the tops of my doors, just to keep him safe. In public places he would find the nearest exit and make his fearless getaway. Recently he's gotten a lot better, although I've found him outside our house on the sidewalks a few times. We live on a busy road, and I've practically beat the dangers of running in the road into him.

Anyway, he asked if I would take him to McDonald's playland for lunch because he was so good. I agreed and we went. I noticed he started misbehaving after about a half hour, so I told him it was time to go home. I through my tray away, and when I turned around I couldn't find him. I figured he climbed back up into the playset. I called for him, no answer. I quickly walked through McDonald's, no Ethan. I went back to the playset, and the crappy part was that it's so difficult to find your kids when their up in that thing. There were tons of kids up there, so I just called his name hoping he would come down. After about 5 minutes or so I started panicking. Another mother caught on to my anxiety and offered to help. We looked around McDonalds again, we went outside etc. I seriously was about to call the police. This McDonald's was right against State St. in Lindon, which is a monster of a road. Horrible scenarios were going through my mind, and I was loosing it. After what seemed an eternity (probably about 10 minutes...maybe less) a lady came in the playland and asked if anyone was missing a child. She said there was a little boy in the Smith's parking lot behind McDonald's playing with rocks in the middle of crazy lunch hour traffic. I was hysterical, and went running outside with Lilly in my arms(perfect little soul). There Ethan was, happy as a clam, with no clue of what danger he was in. I grabbed him and we went in to get our bags from McDonald's. I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself. My emotions were through the roof. I was literally pulling him and yelling "You scared Mommy to death, you could have been killed!!". You could have heard a pin drop in that McDonald's. All eyes and ears were on US. I could have cared less. I was so hysterical, I WANTED to beat the crap out of him (of course I didn't). But I did publicly chastise him. And I spanked him hard on his bum before we got in the car. I wanted him to be embarrassed, and shamed. I was so angry I was shaking. Ethan is a smart kid, and a boy ahead of his age in many ways. They've put him in a class with 5 year olds at school because he talks like he's 20. So, it's hard for me to remember that he's still 3 3/4.

So, here's where the advice is needed.

What would you have done?

I took his lovies away when we got home, and he went straight to his room, all privileges gone for the rest of the day. I also feel bad because the talk given in Sacrament meeting last week was about controlling your temper as a parent, and I feel I lost mine today. But honestly people, I was enraged because he could have been killed. I would appreciate some good mommy advice right about now.

Bad Mommy

Yesterday Jooj kicked me in the face while I as trying to buckle her in the car seat. (The kicking is new, thanks to her and Papi bonding over "Human Weapon" on the Discovery Channel.) As I recoiled from the blow I cracked my head on the door frame. I was filled, for a moment, with absolute rage. And I yelled at her--in her face. Then I lightly slapped her cheek. She sobbed.

I spent all evening repenting--she has forgotten it, I think, but I felt awful. I begged for forgiveness from Heavenly Father for being less than patient with his precious little kung-fu master.

And she head butted me this morning--square in the nose.

Remembering my anguish, I did not slap or yell. I instead let out a "Son of Bitch!"

Is that progress? Will next time I just shake it off and make her some pretend tea? Or will I snap and drive away to Vegas? At what point do I finally overcome the natural inclinations I feel when I am in pain (namely, rage)? How do I get over that momentary impulse and become responsible (read: good mommy) for my actions?

Requested by Phread

I forwarded an email exchange a friend and I have been having to ~J and she requested that I ask the author to make a post out of it. My friend is quite lovely and bold, but hesitated to post something that she felt was "just off the top of her head." So I am posting it for her and keeping it anonymous. So there.

The topic that we were discussing is the internal struggle that mommies often feel when we express frustration at staying home to a listener who may not be sympathetic to women leaving the workforce. We feel guilty because we know that we have made the right choice for ourselves and our families, but we still don't like it all of the time. The response we often get from listeners is "Just go back to work." "Leave your kid in day care." "They really like being in preschool better than staying at home" "You need to get away from kids and back with adults" And then we feel stupid. Because we don't know what to say to that. So here is what she told me--I hope that you enjoy it!

Staying home to raise your kid IS hard. I know it sounds cliche. But it's such an all encompassing, divine nature building trial. It's hard in that it is an on-going experience which molds and shapes our very nature!!!! We have to LEARN how to enjoy mommyhood with all of it's scrapes and bruises. Some people seem to fall more naturally into that role than others. They make me feel guilty. But it also makes me sad when I see a mom run away to work as an escape. As if she's not cut out for motherhood because it is hard for her. Have they never done anything hard in their life??? What do you do when you want to accomplish something hard? If it were a work project or school assignment, you'd inform yourself, you'd practice. You might fail a bit. You'd seek support from people who have experience or knowledge in the area. The more energy you put towards a trial, the more you will grow and learn and accomplish. It would be hard to complete an assignment and REALLY gain from it if you just did what you knew and then handed the rest over to a "professional" when you'd had enough. There are so many reasons for a mom to work. But working as an "escape" from other trials is so sad. Instead of addressing the real issues for unhappiness... and finding potential happiness and fulfillment...women look for a quick fix that can impede growth.

I'm realizing that this might not be coming across the way I'd intended. If you feel any guilt from reading any part of this I have not expressed myself very well. Forgive me.

REASON to work is the issue here. Don't thinks me a working-mom hater. Prayer and personal revelation can help us find the path that will be best for our family.


The path of refinement and development of our divine traits does not lie on either the working mom road, or the stay at home mom road. It lies in doing your best to fulfill your calling as a wife and mother. That's it!!! We just keep plugging away. As a daughter of God you are not asked to be perfect. What a relief to not have to try and figure out what choices are the "perfect" ones!!!!!! That's my advice to you. Stop trying to be perfect. Trying to be a "perfect" mom will overwhelm you. At least that's what it does to me. I don't even see myself as trying to be "perfect" when I am struggling as a mom. But when I think about it....that is what brings me down. In my head I'm not living up to some whack perfect ideal. It snowballs from there.

This is one of the reasons that I started Good Mommy/Bad Mommy-to start some discussions between women who are smarter than me.

Unabashedly Bad Mommy

Today Jooj got into the clothes hamper and layered herself in all of our dirty underwear. And I didn't stop her because she was quiet and I was tired. And then, for dinner, I threw her some tortilla chips and some fruit snacks. And I could have read her a book, but I turned on Elmo instead. And then, when I was hiding in the bathroom, I should have demonstrated the potty mechanics, or at least read the book on adoption issues that has been sitting in there for months, but I locked the door and re-memorized an old Entertainment Weekly instead.

And it is only Tuesday. She is going to be a little match girl by Friday evening.

Stimulating Young Minds

Since I’m a sentient mom I feel guilty for not constantly stimulating El Guille’s learning. He’s a smart kid, though, I’m sure he’ll learn to read eventually even if I’m not practicing letters and sounding out words. I think that’s why I married one of the smartest men on earth, so that I could just count on genes to make up for the gap of not constantly working with my preschooler on his learning. It would be a violation of genetic law for El Guille to turn out stupid.