Confession of a bad mom…

Confession of a bad mom:

#sotrue #gimmethepizzaandthewine #sophieloren

I'd rather eat pizza


Confession of a bad mom…

Confession of a bad mom: My beloved Nana Burke was a very wise woman, something I believe she passed along to her daughter, my mother. She was almost ninety-one when she died and had a lifetime of wisdom to impart on her family. After all, as the mother of twelve children, she was bound to have some profound advice. And although she passed away when I was  twenty and I didn’t have nearly enough time on this earth with her, I will never forget the many things she told me. One of which, I think of often now that I am a mother of four. Nana once said, “When your children are little they tread on your toes. But when they get older they tread on your heart.” No truer words have ever been said. As a mother you endure so much heartache, both happy and sad, as your children grow and turn into adults. Their sadness and strife becomes yours. Their words and actions can sometimes hurt. It’s amazing to me when I think of these wise, strong matriarchs, who have come before me. I don’t think you ever truly understand how wonderful your mother or grandmother are, until you become one yourself. #wisewomen #matriarch #littlefeetcanhurt 

Confession of a bad mom:

Confession of a bad mom: I know this is going to sound terrible… but sometimes I wish I could check into a hospital for a two night stay with a mild illness (sleep  deprivation/misanthropy) that required isolation and sleep as treatment.  That way  I would be able to lie in bed and nap all day, while watching tv on and off, with no one bothering me.  And… I wouldn’t have to cook!  Instead, my meals would be delivered right to my bed.  (Ok, hospital food is crappy, so maybe I’d order in.) It’s different than a hotel… if I checked in to a hotel, I’d feel guilty. I need this to be medically necessary, with a note and orders from my doctor.  “Please admit Meghan for two days of complete isolation and rest- to recover from life.”

good luck charlie

Confession of a bad mom:

In the midst of rushing Ailey out the door to dance class, while preparing dinner and helping with homework, she stopped and said to me, her dark brown eyes intense, “I wish you would stay in the room at dance like the other moms.” Now normally I’d be like, “Yeah, ain’t nobody got time for that…” but I’ve been feeling a tad under the weather and so that pretty much closed me up for the night. Choking back tears, I explained, “I know, honey. But mommy has to pick up your bother and get back home to dinner and the boys.” She smiled and said, “I know, momma.” and gave me a big kiss. I dropped her off and drove away thinking, “Well, we’ll chalk up another one for their future therapist.” #mymomjustdropsmeoff #shesabadmom #aintnobodygottimeforthat

Now available on Amazon!

cropped-front-coverI feel like a bad mom all the time. There is such impracticality to parenting anymore… to be organic, stay at home, work full-time, make every soccer game, be a Pinterest master, bake cookies, read every night, never swear, have all the laundry folded and put away, be an awesome wife, workout every day, pack daily lunches, enroll in as many extra-curricular actives as you can fit in your weekly schedule, never spank your child, drive five hours away to a basketball game… parenting has become pretentious and overrated.  The expectations are beyond realistic.

So I’ve stopped living up to them and have tried to lower the expectation for myself and my children- for the sake of my sanity and for my family’s overall wellbeing.  Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I must not be a good mom if my five-year-old daughter isn’t taking at least three dance classes a week! Or my kids don’t have a packed lunch every day.

I know… but I don’t care.   I no longer feel like I have to be a perfect mom.  It’s ridiculous that I ever thought there could be such a thing.  I swear, I drink wine in front on my children, we keep active, but I don’t over-load their schedules.  I make sure there is time for them to be kids.

I’m a bad mom because I don’t negotiate with my children.  My rules, not theirs.  I’m the parent, they are the child… an interesting concept that has seemingly escaped from today’s society.

In Confession of a Bad Mom, you’ll find real-life thoughts about parenting, enhanced by my children’s take on things.  It’s my honest thoughts on being a mother of four beautiful and precocious children. Their hilarious quips and comments are enough to keep you reading.

I hope you’ll find some solidarity as well as humor in this collection of comments and thoughts.  At the very least, it’ll make a good bathroom read!

Get your copy here!