Give me your worst parenting stories

I need them. For my mental health.

And no, not the stories of other horrible people messing up—the stories of good, virtuous you messing up.

I need to know that you can be a good parent and still deeply, deeply suck at it, at times. Today, for instance. When I yelled so loudly at my son that my throat still hurts. (Did you know that mittens are an instrument of torture? That socks are painful? Neither did I, until I met Henry.) Thank god I don't have a deadline tonight because I need this glass of wine. And I need to go to bed before 8. And wake up in a few years, when he's able to dress himself.

Speaking of deadlines, a new Wonderland is up!

And now it's time for you to share your Stories of Parental Ineptitude. I know you won't let me down.

Now that I think of it, I'm holding a contest. The Parental Ineptitude tale that amuses me most will win...something. I haven't thought that through yet. My deep and abiding respect? Something like that. I need to have more wine and think about it.

Comments

[elle]

I'll de-lurk on this one. I have 2. We adopted our son from Russia in September 2006. While in Moscow, waiting our exit from the country, we were playing on the bed in the hotel room and my son slid off the bed headfirst onto the floor. We hadn't even left the country with him and I'd already dropped him.

But the icing on my parenting cake was last spring when my son refused to come inside, lest move from the spot he was standing in and I yelled... no screamed (sore throat too) at him to get his butt in the house. I approached my child only to discover he'd had world's biggest diaper blowout and was afraid to move. What makes it better is the cause of the diaper blowout was because I had previously fed my child expired chocolate milk. I am still begging for forgiveness on that one.

[Angela]

Sadly, there are too many but one of the worst was when my son was 3 1/2 and I made him go shopping with me at H&M in Herald Square. He was hopping around on the down escalator and I kept telling him to settle down (later learning that he had no idea what that meant). He fell down near the bottom and (I later learned) was being sucked into the teeth at the end. I scooped him up, told him it was his own fault and made him stand in line with me because I wasn't leaving without my stuff. Even though he was crying pitifully and people were staring - I just told him to shut up. Actually I whispered it in his ear, trying not to make a further scene. On the way home sitting on the train I realized the escalator had left perfect teeth marks on his leg and drawn blood. Then I bought him a big bag of candy and begged God not to let it get infected.

But one of my favorite bad mom stories is when our babysitter in the 70's was driving me and my 4 year old brother somewhere in her van and my brother was standing on the front seat. We didn't use seat belts back then. She did a u-turn and when we got to the other side of the street he was gone. Fortunately, he had fallen onto the grassy area of a sidewalk.

[Em]

I can't wait to read all of the others.

The story that immediately came to mind was when my willful 6 year old was a willful 2 year old and refused to move when I was trying to pick up around her. I was already mad about something ( I don't even know what) and when she wouldn't move, I angrily grabbed the blanket up off the floor, the one she had been standing on. I can't remember if I knew she was on it or not, I was just being pissy and stompy and a huge asshole. All I remember is her little feet going out from under her.

In reality, we were both being bratty that day (albeit I was 26 years older and should have had my shit together) but in my mind, I am basically beating up a sweet little angel with wispy little pigtails and about 8 teeth altogether.

God, I feel like crap now. I better go read the other comments.

[Mauri]

I'll share one of my mom's:

She was taking my cat to the vet (I was 8 or 9) and the cat escaped into the desert. When I came home from school, she told me that she had given him to a nice old lady she had met at the vet's office. Since he hadn't been adjusting well to desert life, we had been discussing finding another home for him. I shed a few tears and went to bed.

Guess who was meowing at the front door the next morning?

[Kiera]

When my sister was little, she used to constantly whine to my mother for money. One afternoon, my mother got sick of it and offered her a quarter if she'd eat a whole raw onion. My sister made it through half of the onion before she had to quit. My mother gave her a dime. Trying not to laugh the whole time, of course. I'm not sure who comes off worse in this story - my mother for being devious like that, or my sister for being greedy and ninny enough to eat an onion for a lousy 25 cents.

[Kat]

Hmm. I once grabbed my Goddaughter's leg hard enough to leave a bruise, when on an airplane with her, and told her that if she didn't stop kicking the chair in front of her I was going to "rip her fucking leg off." That was about 5 years ago. My son is 2 now & he certainly tries me, but I've mellowed out a lot...a lot...

[Kat]

Hmm. I once grabbed my Goddaughter's leg hard enough to leave a bruise, when on an airplane with her, and told her that if she didn't stop kicking the chair in front of her I was going to "rip her fucking leg off." That was about 5 years ago. My son is 2 now & he certainly tries me, but I've mellowed out a lot...a lot...

[Glenn]

When my son was about 2 months old I'd placed him, in his car seat, inside a cart at the grocery store. We got through the checkout and as I picked up his car seat by the top he flipped forward into the cart, face first. I'd forgotten that I'd unfastened his belt... he was completely unhurt but the little old ladies at the checkout almost killed me.

[ShariMac]

I have many stories. Dear god, so many. But what I wanted to say here is what an older friend told me after I was a couple of years into the parenting gig. These are the words that changed my life:

"The question isn't whether we're going to mess up our kids, but HOW we're going to mess up our kids. Our parents messed us up, their parents messed them up. Someday, our kids will talk about all the things we did wrong: did we pay too little attention to them, or smother them? Were we overprotective, or did we let them harm themselves? Were we too angry, or did we keep all our emotions inside and screw them up that way? Whatever we did, they'll deal with it. Just like we've dealt with how our parents raised us."

Somehow, this took the pressure off for me. You mean, I don't have to worry so much? That I don't have to be perfect, or even try to be perfect? That my kids will likely be okay, regardless? And that maybe getting screwed up by our parents--whether in big ways or small--and then growing through it and from it is a big part of what life (and becoming a healthy, compassionate, interesting adult) is about? That that's part of the story of growing up?

What a relief!

You're not alone, sister.

[Vanessa]

About three weeks after my husband died, my daughter (then 7) and I were coming home on a Friday evening, after a long, exhausting week. On the way from the car to the front door, she tripped and got a scrape on her knee, which sent her into paroxysms of shrieking. I took her into the bathroom and tried to clean the scrape up and put on a Band-Aid, but she kept pushing my hands away and howling that she didn't want me to touch it. I was a bit on edge at the time, as you might imagine, and eventually I snapped and yelled "SHUT UP!" which was totally out of character for me. Huge tears immediately welled up in her eyes (she hadn't really been crying until then) and through heartbroken sobs, she said, "That's the meanest thing you've ever said to me." I apologized all over the place and explained that I was upset and hadn't really meant it, but I still feel guilty. I mean, you can't get much lower than yelling at a kid who just lost her dad, can you?

[carriesegall]

Too many screaming, yelling, irrational moments to count. But my person favorite included no hysteria, just neglect...I put my 2 year old down for a nap, went downstairs and turned on Oprah. Enthralled with my moment of peace and quiet I heard nothing... until 45 minutes later when my neighbor rang my doorbell. She had my son (clad in a t-shirt and diaper) by the hand. He had LEFT my house, walked down the street and around the corner, and was two blocks away AND I HAD NO IDEA HE HAD LEFT THE HOUSE! That was the day I knew the "Mommy of the Year" trophy would never find a place on my mantle. This sentiment is confirmed 5 or 6 times every year as I do something stupid (or worse) as a parent. We all do it.

[Meredith]

I'm so glad I'm not alone on the yelling...my son's terrible two's have been just horrible. Once, while interrupting his play time to go somewhere I had to wrestle him into his car seat. This three minute activity-putting his coat on, defiling his appearance with a hat and getting in the car and just going-had turned into a 15 minute ordeal, full of wailing and kicking and writhing to get out of the seat. Once I'd had him properly strapped in, I slammed the door but could still hear screaming as I loaded the stroller into the trunk. I responded by yelling "Would you just shut the fuck up already?"

I think I let him have chocolate every day for a week to make up for that one.

[tiffany]

whoa, i feel you ALL. one of my favorites is the time my then two year old screamed "go, goddammit!" in the line at the bank (the car line, thank you jesus). or when he hit a kid the first day of K and when was told to keep his hands to himself spit on the kid. and i laughed and said "how do i scrapbook him shanking another kid?" yeah...i rock. and lets not forget me yelling at the 13 month old. i'm effing awesome.

[Beth]

My oldest was nearly three when #2 came along. The "let me run away from you hahahaha thisissofreakingfun" game was one of her favorite things, except she tried it on the first day my hubby went back to work after baby was born. We were outside and she took off, and I'm postpartum and holding a newborn...her flowing hair was the first thing I could grab as I caught up with her. She stopped short and never ran away from me again! I felt like a heel.

More recently, we planned our first weekend camping trip with the 3 girls, but the 3-yr-old had a cold and slightly elevated temperature. We decided that since she was happy we'd go anyway. So we're in the tent our first night in Crested Butte and she starts coughing and crying until she vomits, but during the day was pretty fine other than the occasional slight fever, so we took hikes and played in the stream and blah blah blah. Every time she fussed we'd say, "buck up, little camper!" She coughed until she vomited all three nights we camped, so when we got home I took her to the doctor, who diagnosed her with pneumonia. Nice, mommy, real nice.

[Rayne of Terror]

I too have been reduced to a shrieking harpy over socks, but when I did it the windows were open and our neighbors were out in the driveway listening.

[babelbabe]

I am laughing so hard, but I feel much better.

I am a terrible screaming shrew who has been known to scream back at my seven year old "I HATE YOU TOO!"

Oh god, the therapy bills. And that's not even the worst or the only one, they are mostly just too numerous to mention. Call CYS.

[vbd93]

just the most recent:

1)listening to Gwen Stefani's unedited "Hollaback Girl" in the car, so 2 1/2 year old in the cart at Target uses lollipop as a drumstick on the box of diapers, singing "This my sh*t, uh huh!" as we roll down the aisles.

2)yelling at him to stay in the bed until I feel like I'm going to explode, so I squelch the explosion which turns into tears. I go sit at the top of the stairs outside his room crying to myself, until he quietly comes up behind me, puts his hand on my back and says "I get you a tissue, mommy." he wins. again. probably my lowest moment.

[Sooz]

OK, I'm not a mom (yet). But I wanted to weigh in and say if y'all think these are horrible stories -- well, you should've seen my mom when I was a kid. She didn't have an easy time of it, for sure, but I still remember being spanked with wooden spoons and hairbrushes, constantly being told I was a klutz or stupid, etc. Somehow I managed to grow into a productive member of society. So I don't think the occasional yelling-until-hoarse is gonna do irreparable damage. Keep on keepin' on.

If bad aunt stories count: when my nephew was two, he threw a fit in the grocery store. I scooped him up, carried him out to the car and dumped him into his car seat, where he promptly bit my hand. I responded with "Here's your damn bottle" and tossed it into his lap. (I never told my brother about this incident, but if the kid doesn't get into Harvard it's probably my fault.)

[Lisa C]

I already posted, but I remembered another big one. I should premise this by saying that when my older sister had children I watch in judgment and horror as she yelled at her children. "She's so horrible!" I thought. "I would never yell at my children!"

Fast forward about eight years. My 18-month-old daughter is being an 18-month-old and making me crazy. Strong-willed, obstinate little thing, she's sitting in her high chair and does something (I don't even remember what) that sends me over the edge. I yank the tray off her high chair and throw it across the kitchen. Then I jerk her up and put her in her crib.

I immediately go back to the kitchen, mutter "She's weaned now," and pop a Zoloft.

I'd been waiting to return to my regularly scheduled medication for 27 months, but I wanted to stop nursing first. I thought weaning would be really hard on her, so I was taking my time with it. In retrospect, I realize that - if given the choice - she'd choose drinking milk from a cup over having an insane, abusive mother any day.

[Jen in CT]

I am sitting here, weeping as I read this, because I see myself in every single one of these stories.

I know that every day I'm doing my very best, but some days it's hard to accept that the best I can do is to devolve into a shrieking banshee that either eats too much, drinks too much, or smokes too much to cope with the pressures and demands of motherhood. *sigh*

@Jules--thank you. That is exactly how I've been lately: crabby, mean, low on patience, high on tension. I will work on it. :-)

[Gabrielle]

I shut my son's fingers in the car window when I thought I was closing the front passenger window. Turns out it was the back. Enough said.

[Bmc]

Gripping my 3yr olds legs so tightly during a freakout diaper change that i left fingerprint marks on his legs.

Oh, my husband had one the other night: telling our now 5 yr old who refuses to sleep in his own bed because of the scary noises the cats make that "if you dont get in bed we're going to get rid of the cats"

Classics.

[carlarey]

When my son was about three I was dropping him off at daycare one morning. It was pouring rain, and I was dressed for a meeting with a new client. I was standing in a huge puddle at the passenger door with the umbrella which was really only directing the water in a nice steady stream down my back. For some reason my kid just lost his mind. He freaked the hell out and refused to stand up so I could carry him under the umbrella. He was just shrieking over and over "I don't like that 'brella! Put that 'brella down!" I am getting wetter by the second so finally I lean over and yell, "Get out of the goddamn car this fucking second or I will grab you by the hair of the head and sling your hateful ass to the door!" And then I looked behind me and saw one of the new mothers gently extracting her sleeping infant from it's baby seat shielding it from the rain with her own body. She looked at me in utter horror and I said, "Oh your day's coming, honey. Just wait."

[karin]

I don't have kids, so this is a worst parenting story that I was on the receiving end of.

I was probably about 3 and really really did not want to be going to sleep. I'd been to the bathroom (with Mom's assistance) a number of times, yelled down the hall, and whined about how I didn't want to sleep. Then I asked for a glass of water

By this time I should have been asleep for at least an hour or so and my Mom had no absolutely no patience left.

So she brought me a glass of water, stood in my doorway, and threw the water on me in bed.

When she realized that she'd done so, she was upset and embarrassed and left my Dad to help me get changed, change my sheets and get me back to bed.

[Dad Gone Mad]

I left a porno in the DVD player one night. The next morning my son pushed play, assuming his Power Rangers DVD was still in the machine.