Discipline

Discipline. It’s that quintessential life principle that gets drummed into us from day bloody one.

I need you to know this before I continue, I hate rules. I loathe being told “no, you can’t do that”. So, when it comes to discipline, I battle. But, as life has grown me up and made me think about things over and over again, I’ve developed and stick to my own set of rules.

For that, I blame my parents. They weren’t ever particular sticklers for the conventional “be a good girl, keep your mouth shut, do as you’re told” rulings. In fact, their lives weren’t even remotely good examples of “keeping their mouths shut”. For that, I am eternally thankful, even when it makes me unpopular. I don’t have the ability to keep my mouth shut when something irks me, annoys me or is shown to me as an injustice. Above all of that, I can’t stand people who beat around the bush. Either be direct, stick your neck out, say what you mean to say, and we’ll deal with it. People who try to pussy-foot around an issue, generally don’t get my respect or my abiding.

This is one good reason why SheBee and I can live together. Neither of us are pussy-footers. Some people call us fullashit, but we call a spade, a spade.

When I was growing up, my folks used their voices. Alot. I cannot think of a time when they weren’t talking. Heh. My mom also had a very unique way of telling us when we were in the shit.

If I’d been a bit of a naughty shit the day or night before…Mom would simply make me a beetroot sandwich for school lunch. Now, beetroot sandwiches are actually great freshly made. But, leave them in your lunchbox for the four hours between leaving home and lunch break and, well, by the time you whip them out to eat them… all you have is a pink, soggy mess. That was generally enough to let me know I’d been a bit of a shit. Trust me, having your school friends look at you askew because you’ve got soggy pink bread for lunch, makes you feel distinctly UNcool and it works pretty darn well.

I digress…

When it comes to discipline, when it comes to rules, when it comes to the “no, you can’t” and “yes, you can” debate for Cam…I’m not all that conventional.

I’m not a smacker. I have a simple rule on this, if she smacks someone, I’ll smack her hand. Undoubtedly, I’ll kiss it better and give her a love afterwards but, I will never smack my child in anger. I can’t do it. It’s just not me. And that’s not me being weak, that’s me knowing that that’s how I want to raise my child.

When it comes to enforcing a rule though. I’m a shouter.

Now, in our house, our rules are not conventional. The primary rule in our house is bedtime. And I will shout about it, if I have to. Generally though, I win before I have to shout. I’m a negotiator, true, and I believe that gentle reminders for about half an hour before bedtime make things easier.. “after this Gummi Bears, it’s bedtime, okay?” generally garner a very cute “okay” response and there’s not much hassle beyond there. Face it, No kid likes to be told it’s time to go to bed, fuck, I hated being told it. But, it has to happen. And it does. Most of the time.

Oi, nobody’s perfect and anyone who says they are is simply another one of those things I cannot stand - a liar. =)

So, in our house and our lives, we don’t have the “eat at the table; children should be seen and not heard; no, you can’t wear a ballgown to school; dessert is only for after dinner” rules. We have good ones. Cameron is a stickler for please and thank you and is learning, very well, how to share. We don’t care about drawing on the walls, as long as it’s crayon. We don’t care about paint, as long as it’s on the sheet and not on the carpet and yes, we can throw stuff in a bowl and make a big mess and pretend to bake. Yes, on the floor. No, I don’t care if it makes a mess.

Someone pretty random in my life that I went to school with, Wendy, taught me a critical life lesson about child-raising many, many years ago. She, in passing, whilst we were sitting at a soccer game (don’t ask questions just accept, people…) said to me: “having three kids is hard. But I just don’t worry about anything that a shower or a good cloth can fix”.

I can never thank her enough for saying that. I am anal about cleaning the house. But, when it comes to Cam’s mess, I let her have her mess.

And, funnily enough, it’s Cam who says “Mommy, I want to clean” or “Mommy, I want to wash the dishes”. She knows that mess means cleaning up afterwards. Most of the time. Again, Nobody’s perfect, and anyone who says they are is, you guessed it, a liar.

So, yeah, Rules. Mine aren’t normal. But, yes, I’m a shouter. A big one. I am not scared to raise my voice to make my point when trying to cajole a three year old away from a tantrum.

So, if you ever see a short lady walking down the street holding the hand of a little girl wearing wellington boots and a fairy princess dress whilst they sing and eat ice cream BEFORE dinner, that’s us.

Living our lives our way, thanks very much.

To PET or NOT to PET

I watched as Max's tiny little body floated to the top ............of the fish bowl.......
Bon Voyage dear little friend.

I have on several occasions had to experience saying goodbye to my children's pets.

It is said that getting your children pets teaches them responsibility as well as how to deal with death.

I remember accidentally driving over my 10 year old dog. Oh my word it all plays back in slow mode to me. Everyone was standing outside it was horrific, (there was no blood just a quick bump and a silent death) and in a few seconds it was over my child came running down the drive way shouting "mommy why did you kill a family member" TALK about GUILT. This Bad mommy sobbed for days.

With the death of Max, my son all of a sudden took interest and BAM poor max was being paraded through the house on a fish net. It would have been fine if he was taken around for final farewells but no it was as if MAX had now become the science project before being flushed.

What exactly are we teaching our kids and when do we say NO MORE PETS.

I mean it is MOMMY who gets attached to the pets, and even though we tell our kids its your responsibility - its mommy that feeds the pet, potty trains the pet and picks ups all the POOP.

"Come and feed the cats... NOW" I have found this a common phrase used in our household. "BUT MOOOooom its your cats..." you see all of a sudden its mine.
Then my son came home "mom SO and SO has a snake i want a snake or a tarantula and if i cannot get one i will DIE.......... " well i tell you this is it I want to know from the other MOMMIES:

What is your opinion on pets - and your children's role in the new family members life. AND when do you say NO and HOW do you say NO to hairy and scaly pets without destroying your sons dreams of becoming a Nature conservationist.

look foward to hearing from you all.

Yiddy

rebel yell & other bad mom doings

The question for the week: What 3 things do you do, as a mother, that goes against all the books?

1. I can be a yeller and have been known to even swear a tad. It's often ineffectual (except in generating fear) and it makes me look like a lunatic, but sometimes it's all I can do to avoid breaking things.

2. Leave my kids home alone for up to an hour after school. They are 9 & 8 and I'm pretty sure it's legal but most moms around here would lose their minds about this. [For the record, I do call to check in and make sure they've locked the door, and usually there is a trustworthy neighbor available]

3. Allow ice cream, cake, pizza, or chocolate chips with breakfast. Usually there is a waffle or oatmeal involved with one of those items, but sometimes we just call it good if any food has been consumed in the morning.

And now I'm going to go do #4 which is take a long hot bath wearing ear plugs...

What Worked For You?

I know a mommy with a new baby girl. The kid is colicky and cries constantly. We've all been there, we all know what it's like.

So, I want to know - what worked for you? What was your miracle cure?

I'm going to collect all the answers, and send them to her, just so she has a bunch of options to try.

(you may reply to this as a comment - ie: this question is thrown wide to contributors and readers alike)

The Stork Has Visited One of Our Bad Mommies...[Again]

If you've all been wondering where MamaMeeA is... well, she's been hatching herself a new baby boy.

Due in October. She's taken a bit of a break from blogging to deal with all the overwhelmingness of it all, and hopes to return soon.

In the mean time I thought everyone would like to know, so they can wish her well!

Does It Ever Really Sink In?

I have a friend who is a very new mother. Her baby boy was born last Tuesday. She has been battling like I never imagined possible. Seemingly no natural maternal instincts, no idea of what can harm her baby.

It may seem judgmental to say that. And you might think that it's the pot calling the kettle black, and I wish I could help her, but her and her boyfriend seem to be refusing help. Which is very brave. I guess I have probably forgotten my own cluelessness far too quickly. Replaced it with memories of calm efficiency.

Well. Mostly I was calm. Mostly I was efficient, although not necessarily both at the same time. I sent her a message yesterday asking her how the first weekend went. She said it was intense, she never ever felt that out of control about something. But what really got me thinking was the fact that she said she didn't feel like a mother, that it hadn't really sunk in.

Then I realised I didn't really feel like a mother either.

Where am I going with this?

Simple. I want you all to write a post explaining when it is that you most feel like a mother. And when it is that you dont. When did you first realise that you were somebody's mother?

The Winner

is thus Angel. For 'Raising Damien'. On account of how you other mommies haven't pulled finger. Badness, I tell you.

Angel, your blingy badges are to be designed for you this week. Keep an eye out in your email for more details.

Bad Mommies: new homework.

Topic: tell us what you and your spawn have been up to lately. News, funnies, pics, rants, eltters, anything. C'mon - this blog is far tooo quiet!!

Happy [Bad] Mothers' Day!

On account of how it's a day for us, I hope you all got spoiled. Hope your rotten, ungrateful snot-nosed children remembered and made you feel special.

I thought it would be time we all did some homework again. But something different. Something a little more exciting. Something with a promise of reward, at the end of the day. So, I propose a

'Baddest Mommy of Them All' competition.

How it works:

1. Write a post describing why you think you are the baddest of them all.

2. We will then hold a poll. Once everyone has submitted their entry-posts. The deadline is Friday the 16th of May.

3. Readers can vote, based on each contributors' post, at the end of the week as to whom they think is the baddest of them all. So email all your friends and solicit votes on your own blog.

4. The results will be revealed.

5. The winner will get a custom-made 'Baddest Mommy on The Blog' badge for their personal blog, and will have a permanent custom-made pretty button-badge linked to their blog, displayed on The Bad Mommy Blog.

Rules:

1. You cannot vote for yourself, but you must nominate yourself.

2. You dont have to be a Bad Mommy Blog contributor to participate, so you can post an entry on your blog, and then email me at cheapthrills [at] webmail [dot] co [dot] za. Your entry will be posted as a guest blogpost on this blog, and you will be added to the poll so readers can vote for you. If a non-Bad-Mommy-Blog-contributor wins, she will be invited to be a permanent contributor to the blog.

3. There are no limits to badness! Anything goes...

So, go forth, and be BAD!

your hair smells of oranges

your hair smells like oranges this evening.
you put your little arms around me and say
'i love you mommy. i sorry i cried when you say no'

i look at you and kiss your head
i mentally jawdrop a little at your sentence construction
we cuddle up on the couch
and watch the most annoying dvd of all time

(kidsongs. parents, just don't buy them. please)

and you love it.
the dumblooking children who you are clearly the bigger star out of
when compared
fascinate you
with their silly songs
and little antics

i don't care that it's giving me a headache.
i don't care that i'm lying in an uncomfortable position.
you don't care that i am tired and haven't showered yet.

all you care about is being on the couch with me.
and all i care about is me being on the couch with you.

and there i am
smelling your gorgeous hair
with your head snuggled under my chin.

when tertia told us about mommy love
i knew it could not be defined.
but this is as close as i can do.

nothing in the world matters
not bills
not deadlines
not how i look
not how i feel
not what i did or did not do today
not how i smiled or grimaced
not that i liked or disliked
not that i could or could not figure something out
not what i did or did not achieve today.

everything in the world that matters
is snuggled under my chin
smelling of oranges.

good night my cam.

x

time capsule homework!

Today you are 2 years and 9 months old.

At this exact moment, you are sleeping, finally hehe.

These days, you like to wear this: your princess skirt. constantly. and a stripy shirt.

Your favorite t.v. show(s) or movie is Barney. Thomas the Tank Engine. The most annoying Kidsongs dvd of all time, Cool Cats and teletubbies

You love to play with balloons, are OBSESSED with playing with coins and you love your dolls so much.

You say 'and then' alot right now.

Your favorite food these days is begables, cheese and vegetarian nuggets with mayonnaise.

Your favorite character from a show or movie is Barney. definitely. You kiss him alot.

This is your favorite toy: your 'moneys'. i have no idea why.

I love you to death, but I really wish you would stop throwing tantrums and screeching when I say no. I know it's genetic and you can't help it, but sheesh. I think you're better than me at it, and thats saying ALOT.

You're a great kid because you are so full of love

I'm amazed that you speak so well. your vocabulary is phenomenal. Moreover, your ability to express, define and explain the reasons for your emotions supercedes my alleged adult ability to do so daily.

I love when you put your little arm around me and say " i love you big bubbles mommy"

Something I’m wearing these days that will probably make you laugh some day: the pinafore dress i wore to work today

Something you are struggling with presently that I wish I could help you with: missing your dad

This is an article from a magazine or newspaper describing an event that happened today or around this time: Robert Mugabe, it seems, has had his reign over Zimbabwe ended.

The Definition of Pride...

Like mother, like daughter...

Ahhh, how quickly they learn, eh??

Not so much bad, as stupid

Last week Friday, I had a really stupid mommy moment.

I go off to fetch Ciara from school, and arrive promptly at 12:30 when all the short ones are leaving for the day.
So I wait and wait, and then wait some more and still no sign of Ms. Ciara anywhere. So when I am the last-lone momma I decide that maybe she went off to aftercare.

I walk up to the cafeteria (which coincidentally is 400 miles from the gate) and cannot find her anywhere.

At this stage mild panic starts to set in. I go to the office and ask where her teacher is so that I can find my child. Another teacher asks what her last class was, and I am directed to that area.

When she is not there - major panic sets in and I am physically unable to breathe. I'm ever so slightly starting to lose any grip I once had on my sanity.

I go back to the office to find if they have had any luck locating the teacher and I'm ready to burst into tears. I whip all who cross my path into a frenzy about my missing child.

I am able (somehow) to make the decision to check the gate one last time.

Relief floods over me in tsunamis when I see her little blond head milling about with the other stragglers.
I phone the office, and timidly advise that I have found her and they can cancel the fricken bright red alert on my missing child.

I hug her tightly and ask where the feckin hell she has been.

Hindsight makes me feel rather foolish and paranoid and stupid.
I hate Hindsight.
She's a bitch.

Letters Into the Future

This week's homework takes the form of a letter.

You will write this letter to your kid(s), with the intention that he/she will receive it on an important milestone in their life.

This milestone can be anything - an age (16/18/21), an event (passing their drivers' licence, sex for the first time, going away to college....) or any time in the future you think is appropriate.

"Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them." ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

"If there is anything that we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves." ~C.G. Jung, Integration of the Personality, 1939

"Your children tell you casually years later what it would have killed you with worry to know at the time." ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

PS: if you're not a bad mommy, feel free to do the homework in the comments section, or on your own blog, and paste a link to it in the comments section!

How You Can Tell If You're A Bad Mommy

your kid sleeps with one eye open....

Before I was saddled to something that would grow into a wine-chugging maniac

I was young

I was fulfilled

I was happy

All this was delusional

I had dreams to become an international author, living in The Sudan.

I went to war torn zones to check out human rot without worrying about my safety

I didn’t have to like The Dingbat because Id didn’t need a cheap baby sitter.

My father was convinced I was a virgin.

The Dingbat didn’t think it’s OK to talk to me about sex, especially hers.

I didn’t know you could love someone you don’t like much cause they’ve pretty much ruined my fun.

I knew if it was a girl she would have my Angelina Jolie lips and she does!

I knew for a fact that having a child was something married women and deranged people do. I didn’t count on falling in either category.

I smoked 10 a day; I now smoke 25+ just to get rid of the fat.

I thought Woolies was an expensive food shop. Never knew they had such cute kids’ clothes!

I would have never believed it when someone said unconditional love exists.

I would have heartily endorsed legalization of marijuana, but now I’m seeing her tendencies and hoping to move her to Mecca at earliest chance.

I didn’t know I wasn’t capable of murder since I chose to keep her despite my ex and I beating the crap outa each other at our engagement party.

Thought life ended once you had a baby.

Badness Pays Off

The mommies of this blog are thrilled to be a finalist in the SA Blog Awards 2008. In the Best Group Blog category.

Thanks to those who nominated us!! And to those who didn't, boo to you. You have the chance to make up for it, by voting for us now!

Go here, and vote your asses off! You know our badness deserves it!

Bad Mommies who are also finalists in other categories:

Expensive Mistakes and Cheap Thrills - Best Personal Blog

MamaMeeA - Best Undiscovered Blog

Give us your vote too.....

Meme For Bad Mommies

On account of how Sheena has been missing from Bloggerama recently, I have decided to set the homework this week. In case she has forgotten. So here we all are.

This week's homework is something a little different. I have grown tired of the 'Questions & Answers Format'.

It's called.... "Before I Was A Mommy....." and I was inspired by "Shelled & Deshelled".

So click the link. (Here's another example)

Read hers to see how it'd done...

And let's see what you come up with...

PS: if you're not a bad mommy, feel free to complete this in the comments section.

Peace And Quiet… For A Little While At Least…

My darling Damien… the centre of my li’l universe, the bane of my existence, the apple of my eye, the one who drives me insane… is going on a school camp for three days. He’s coughing like crazy- I think because he’s trying to smoke less for Flower’s sake- but he wants to go, and it’s a school curriculum requirement… and I need him to go.
The last coupla weeks I have not wanted to be a mommy anymore. I haven’t mentioned the Damien drama in a while because it seems that sometimes that’s all I post about- but it never ever goes away. We have good days and bad days, but it never goes away. Frankly, I am exhausted bunnies.
I am so tired of arguing with him.
I am so tired of repeating myself.
I am so tired of his lack of respect and his total lack of deference.
I am so tired of being constantly suspicious.
I have never met anyone so selfish and it breaks my heart… what the hell did I do to make him this way? How can he be so self centered, I’m pretty damn sure that’s not what I taught him.
It’s like nothing matters and no one counts unless he benefits directly.
You want an example of why he exhausts me so?
My bedroom has two doors. My flat used to have a verandah- enclosed before I moved in- and my bedroom had a glass door leading onto this verandah. It’s had a bookshelf in front of it for the longest time and I don’t use it. I lock my door and keep the key with me- partly so Taxi will leave Grampa Scratchy alone for a bit, but mostly to keep Damien out of my bedroom and my things. The other night I went into my room to organise clothes for work the next day and feed the old man and such like and I closed the door behind me. The next thing- Taxi appears from behind the curtains at the glass door! I go and look and see the door is open, and the bookshelf on the other side has been pushed back far enough to allow Damien’s skinny frame access to my bedroom as and when he likes.
So now I’m seriously pissed off.
Not only has Grampa Scratchy had no peace since I don’t know when- but Damien has been sneaky enough to come and go into my room as he pleases without moving the bookshelf enough to be noticeable from the livingroom.
Fucking hell.
I pulled the door shut and locked it, and those keys are now inside my locked bedroom.
Just thinking about how he screws the people who are supposed to be on his side pisses me off all over again.
What the hell am I going to do!!?!
How the hell is he ever going to be a grownup!!?!

My Angel Assignment

1. Do you remember a particular incident or moment from your own childhood that has influenced the way you raise your offspring?

Um.....not really. Hold on, let me give this some more thought. Okay. Well, my father (my parents were divorced from when I was very, very young) had a lot of girlfriends. Let me rephrase. A lot of psycho girlfriends. Who weren't very nice to me, who hated me, in fact.

This made me promise myself that if things didn't work out with the father of my baby, the guy would have to be spectacular in order to be introduced to my kids. My kids would come before any man, and if they didn't like him, I would ditch him. No questions asked.

On the other hand, my dad came to every school play, prize-giving event, basically all of my school stuff. He was there without fail. This was very cool, and I plan to do the same for The Kid.

2. Have you started some kind of savings plan or investment thingy for when your kidlet(s) wants to go to college or varsity?

I did when I found out I was pregnant. Only I spent it this month. Will start it again soon. It wasn't that much, only a couple of grand, but still...

3. Do you think it’s possible to let go of “mommy guilt”, to forgive yourself and move on, to do better?

I have written about this before. The Kid is still very new, I haven't really made any major mistakes with him yet. But, like my mother always used to tell my sister "parenting is not a popularity contest. If you dont like the things I do...tough!"

4. How long after giving birth did you want to have sex?

About 2 weeks. I'd had a c-section, and didn't understand why I had to wait 6 weeks before having sex. But my libido is definitely much lower now. Poor Luke has to beg. A lot. Makes me feel bad, but sometimes I think - the point of sex is to make babies. We've done that, so now what's the point?

The Baby-Sitters

Yes. I am a bad mommy. A bad mommy that loves to blog and read others' blogs. This is how I entertain my child while I'm blogging. Meet, The Babysitters: