Ludicrous Mama of Biting the Hand That Feeds You is back. And she’s got a list that only a World’s Worst Mom could write.
Things I will never ever admit to my daughter:
1. When you were born, I thought you were actually kind of ugly.
2. I called you “Old Man” and “Turkey Neck” until you fleshed out a little and were more interesting to look at. Because, let’s face it. Those scrawny, saggy, wrinkly little necks DO kind of look like turkey necks. And that toothless, squinchy, wrinkly little crank-face looks like someone’s Great-Great-[Great-]Grandpa.
3. When your baby acne and cradle cap came, I thought you were kind of ugly again. I still loved you more than anything in the world, but a teensy tiny part of me wished you were as cute as other kids. Your dad threatened to divorce me if I talked to him about it ever again.
4. You still have “cradle cap” at age 3 because I was too lazy to put the oil on, comb it out and wash the oil off more than the one time. It totally worked, and got rid of a bunch, but not enough. Cradle cap isn’t harmful. And for a while it made you look like you had a full head of hair. So, bonus.
5. When you didn’t poop for a week, and the doctor had to use his pinky and some KY (if you know what I mean) and it didn’t work, he sent us home with gloves and lube and instructions. Even though my pinky is smaller and would be less intrusive, I made your Daddy do it. I apparently do not love you quite that much.
6. I once threatened not to feed you dinner if you didn’t listen to me.
7. Sometimes I set you up for failure, so I don’t have to do something I was kind of hoping to weasel out of anyway. “We can’t go unless you do a good job listening today. Oh, you didn’t come immediately when I called to get your shoes on, so you weren’t a good listener. Sorry.”
8. While I have not left you in a diaper until it literally disintegrated, you have had a saddlebag down past your knees before.
9. I haven’t pushed potty training because, quite frankly, it’s easier to not have to leave my shopping behind to race off to a restroom.
10. You learned your alphabet from Elmo.
11. I let you “shit down” to watch the “fuk show” instead of working on your pronunciation of “sit” and “frog” because it’s about the funnest thing that happens to me all day.
12. I was all proud that you were the only one sitting quietly, staring zombie-like at the screen, while the fire station tour played the fire safety video. Even though it means you watch too much TV.
13. My sister is appalled at what I let you get away with in a parking lot, so apparently I’m not teaching you good safety habits in car places.
14. I lost you at Old Navy because they were having an awesome sale so I took forever to shop and you got bored and wandered off.
15. While I think that you are the most beautiful girl in the world, quite frankly, there are tons who are cuter and prettier.
16. Most people, when complimenting a little girl, talk about how pretty they are. But with boys, usually about how smart or athletic they are. I know this, and know that I should emphasize your brains and physical abilities, and yet still mostly just tell you how cute you look.
17. Your hair is a rat’s nest in back, because
we don’t get up early enough I just don’t feel like fighting you every morning.
18. It’s possible that I’m a little rougher than I need to be when brushing your hair so that you’ll have Daddy do it instead. Same with washing.
19. For some reason, you rarely ever need a bath on the nights when it’s my turn.
20. You are not, in fact, a really good helper. I lied.
21. While I love you more than anything, would do anything for you, and make any sacrifice, apparently, unless it’s a life-or-death situation, this does not extend to playing with you instead of doing Facebook.
22. When you draw, you get frustrated and throw a fit because it doesn’t look the way you want, since, let’s face it, you draw like a 2-to-3-year-old. So I just don’t bother letting you use crayons, pens, paint, etc, to practice and get better because I don’t want to deal with it.
23. I make you try tons of food that I wouldn’t eat. And some, like frog’s legs, that I wouldn’t even touch.
24. I paraphrase and skip pages on longer books. “The kids are bored because it’s raining. So the Cat in the Hat comes. . . Look at this mess! Now these little guys come out of his hat to clean it up! Hooray. The end.” Because, ugh. I no longer care who is Hopping on Pop or whether anyone wants any frickin’ Green Eggs, by about page 3. And this is only when I can’t make you wait until Daddy can read it to you.
25. I let you watch Spongebob so you’ll shut up and leave me alone when
I need more sleep I’m busy online I have a headache, even though it is garbage and I hate the messages it teaches you.
26. You only have balanced meals when I do them for my blog. [Or when someone else is cooking.] Your lunches are more often fast food, or a hot dog and cheese stick.
When I even remember to feed you.
27. I conditioned you from birth to love Disney Princesses. So much for affirmative action! [But you totally picked Ariel as your favorite without any prodding from me. Which is good, since she’s my favorite too, and I have less desire to drive a stake through my head when watching Little Mermaid on endless repeat.]
28. I totally let you eat entire tubes of Chapstick. Hey. You were quiet and entertained for almost an hour each time. Lesser of two evils, kiddo.
29. On the days when you’re out and about in mismatched outfits or PJ’s (or a combination of the two), I tell everyone that you chose your own outfit. When really I was just being lazy, or had no other clean clothes (which really means the same thing).
30. Sometimes I blame you for making us late, when really it was
all my fault at least partially my fault.
31. Whenever you were found with a steak knife or sharp scissors in your hands, it was always on my watch. And usually my steak knife.