I don’t think I’m breaking any ground when I confess that I’m not a perfect mom. I snap at my kids (and by snap, I mean scream until a police officer in a neighboring county alerts me to reports about people’s eardrums bursting). I don’t put my children to bed at a consistent time. They don’t get outside nearly as much as they should (or as much as they ask me if they can; we live in Colorado and it’s a pain gearing them up in all the snow clothes each and every time).
Liz Gumbinner writes the blog Mom-101 and recently confessed that her kids watch TV. She’s hardly alone, but she probably felt like it, as I often do, because of all the holier-than-thou-and-thou’s-kid types out there who let you know that not only do their kids not watch TV, but they don’t even own a TV. No, they’re too busy gathered around the radio listening to NPR while knitting organic scarves to donate to underprivileged hipsters during their shift at the food coop.
It’s those types of moms who are a hindrance to the sanity of moms like me. Yes, I don’t try to succeed at parenting nearly as hard as I should. But I’m tired and, frankly, a bit lazy. I don’t need perfect moms around me as a reminder of just how imperfect I am. I look at my kids’ dirty faces, I hear their whines about being hungry (again!) and start up yet another episode of Barney knowing all too well that this is not a scenario that’s winning me any kind of good-parenting award.
The following types of moms are my natural enemies:
More from Meredith on Babble:
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