Bad Mother

[bad muhth-er]: female parent who is of poor or inferior quality; defective; deficient:

Number 1.

So I fell asleep and missed my daughters bi yearly conference with her teacher. Ok she is in Kindergarden and there really cannot be much I missed, but I did miss how she is learning to read, how she is getting along with the other kids in the class and what she thinks about the whole thing.

In other words I missed 30 minutes that were all about my daughter from the person she spends most of her time with, her teacher.

My ex wife was there (thank God) so we do not look like the worlds worst parents, but still.

I thought it was the next Wednesday I had off. Not this one. I am so hating myself right now and cannot let it go for the meantime at least, so there you have the first reason I am a bad mother.

Number 2.

The second is that I bribe my child. We start out with lets say 10 dollars because that is what she wants to buy a toy with. (Yes it is close to Christmas so what makes any sane parent buy toys out in the open for their kids right now is even more insane). I start off with the 10 dollars and everything she does that I do not want her to do I start taking money away.

9.80 because you played in your bed instead of sleeping.

“Oh 9.60 if you do not get over here to brush your teeth.”

“Get over here at set the table,” I say to her “Otherwise it is 9.60”

It keeps her inline and gives me total control over her with the luring of her not having to crack open her piggy bank, but of course a normal parent probably does not use this technique.

Number 3.

Candy guilt. My daughter went to the dentist a couple of months ago because her teeth are naturally in very bad shape. They get yellow and she has awful saliva so she can (and has had her first one) cavity.

So on the doctors orders. “No candy, cola, ice cream or anything except for Saturday”

And I feel guilty as hell. Nothing is more awful than me seeing the kid begging for an ice cream when she sees them in front of her and using the fear of God into myself about all the different dentist drills and all I want to do is give the kid an ice cream or a lollypop on Thursday.

My teeth are ok. I ate all sorts of shit when I was a kid.

I guess this is when you hit yourself in the head and wish you were genetically inclined with this little person. I have a picture of a sperm donor with no teeth at the current moment.

Number 4.

I am the parent of the two of us that fumbles around having no idea what I am doing.

“Where do I get that little plastic candle that runs on batteries?” I ask my ex for the big Lucia celebration at school.

Then when I find out where to get it, I do it in the last minute. Me with an almost 7 year old running up and down the isles of the supermarket looking for a plastic candle.

Need batteries? No worries I will buy a big pack and then forget we already have 20 of those same batteries at home.

The whole trip results with me buying a totally new outfit with a new electric candle. Of course after going to three different stores to find what I am looking for.

I have this trip today and I will be pulling a 9.60 to get her through the three stores it takes to get her through it all.

Number 5.

I hate going to soccer practice and track and field play to watch her run around and not listen to what she needs to do.

She always follows the other kids when they climb behind where the mats are stored.

“Little sweetie come back here now,” the other parents say calmly in Swedish.

“Get over here! Otherwise it is 9.60” I shout at her in English.

It is literally a pain for me to sit there at 5 in the evening and wait for it to end at 6. Drive all the way to the other side of the city, stuff a plate of food down her mouth and then get ready to go to bed.

Finally a bit of a Christmas adventure. I like any single parent have Christmas guilt and buy way too many presents for my daughter. I went to the basement in our apartment and thought:

“Well I will just leave my keys here and run back up for the next load”

Little did I know that I locked myself out of coming down to the basement. I had to run up and down up my apartment house and ring all the doors. No answer.

i went to the house next door and begged them to let me in. Most of them thought I was scamming them or wanted to hurt them so refused to let me in. (Thanks monthly newsletter that told them to watch out for people scamming that they needed new electric meters).

Finally I get one lady to let me in. I beg her please please let me into the basement. I was leaving my daughters presents down there and got locked out.

I see in front of me, not only missing her conference but not being able to pick her up from school.

She let me go down with her keys after I gave her my phone for deposit. Luckily I got my keys and learned a very valuable lesson. Your neighbours do not trust you and that you NEVER just leave your keys down in the basement while trying to compensate by moving the tons of presents (you bought out of single mom guilt) down there.

So in 30 minutes I go to pick up my daughter for one week. Trips to the supermarket today where I will end up going overboard for Lucia. Living with the guilt of missing parent teacher conferences and Christmas crafts because I had to be at work. Going to track and field play where I will be shouting 9 whatever it will be at the moment. The Saturday at the over crowded mall where we will buy her toy (with her money hopefully and not mine) and I will overload her with ice cream and candy to compensate for a week of “no”.

This is why I am a bad mother, for even doubting myself so much that I have to write this post.

Thank you old lady that saved my ass. I know she has no idea how to work a computer, but thanks anyway.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s