Count the Bad Mommies

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Bad Mommy?

So Neen told us all to write a post about a bad mommy moment we had recently. And as much as I tried to think of one, I really couldn't come up with anything concrete.

So I decided to tell you why I think I haven't been a bad mommy recently.

Well, let me tell you I have the happiest baby I have ever seen. He laughs and smiles all the time. He's happy to see me, happy to play on the floor with a pile of newspapers. Happy to eat dry Pro-vitas when mommy doesn't feel like making him a proper snack. Happy to lie on the tiles by the washing machine (hmmm....I'm actually starting to see some bad mommy stuff here after all!) and drink his bottle. Happy to pat the dog through the bars of the gate. Happy to play with car keys and rub biscuit crumbs into my new rug.

My child sleeps through the night. Apparently, if there's some instability or upset in the child's life, it shows in their sleeping patterns. My child sleeps from 6:30 pm to 6:30 am. Solid. Never wakes up, never cries. People tell me I'm lucky that my child sleeps through the night. I say that's bullshit. I worked hard to get it that way. I have a strict bedtime routine. As I go through the routine he starts yawning and rubbing his eyes. He knows it's sleep time, and he sleeps.

He's reaching all his milestones timeously. He's sitting by himself, crawling, and is even starting to stand. He walks in a walking ring, and if held. He's never sick, and even though he's teething something chronic (he's grown 8 teeth in the last month or so) he never complains. He eats everything I give him, and really isn't fussy. He even eats vegetables - fresh tomato and green pepper are his favourite.

He knows how shit works. He's figured out how to open tupperwares, how all his toys work, how the tv remote works, and he knows the difference between a fake set of keys and my real keys. He only plays with the real thing. And the dummy cell phone I bought him is no good either. He wants the real thing.

So what am I trying to say here? That I'm proud of myself. I'm doing this mothering thing better than I thought I could. My child is developing well, has an awesome little personality on him, and has inherited his mothers' strong temperment.

Perhaps I'm not such the bad mommy after all..