“Please don’t put my mom on your blog.”

That’s what my son’s friend said to me the other day when he told me his mom took him to see Catching Fire (incidentally, I love The Hunger Games — I’ve read the series twice). I had to explain to him that first, I didn’t care, and second, I don’t go running around, looking for moms who are doing a bad job and then sticking them on my blog.

This blog is for good moms. We read the “right” books, buy the “right” stuff, and say the “right” things. We spend our days trying not to accidentally leave someone at school, finding the correct color trifold board for the science fair, and losing sleep to work on making holidays “memorable.” We wash favorite shirts at 8 o’clock at night, read books out loud a thousand times even when they make us crazy, and watch performances that go on and on and on. We do all these things.

Until we don’t.

And then we say we’re “the worst” and beat the crap out of ourselves.

If you’ve landed here, hopefully you feel you’ve found a kindred spirit. I’m a political junky, chronic complainer, godless liberal, and Hallmark-commercial-level sap. Reading me may feel a bit like walking down a hallway and opening doors without signs on them — you just never know what’s coming next. You’ll find stories on parenting, rants about the Tea Party, and even detailed descriptions of over-the-top parties that we’ve thrown (because we’re clearly off our rockers). I write about autism, chronic pain, and depression. And every once in a while, I’ll turn it over to someone who sends in a Worst Mom story that makes me laugh or cry. If that’s you, I’d love it if you’d let me know.

Thanks for reading. Hope you stick around.