Am I a Bad Parent?

I pretty much ask myself this question every single day.

Am I a bad parent because every morning I let my kid watch cartoons (really, what else is there to do at 6am)?

Am I a bad parent because every day I want a glass of wine by 5pm?

Am I a bad parent because my child now refuses to eat anything other than yogurt?

Am I a bad parent for bribing my two-year-old with chocolate bars to go on the potty?

Am I a bad parent for letting him use “his Ipad” while on the potty?

Am I a bad parent because I encourage my kid to make a complete fool out of himself even in public– to dance like nobody is watching, to sing and cheer overzealously and wear whatever ridiculous outfit suits his fancy?

Am I a bad parent because I want to strangle my kid every time he says, “I want”?

Am I a bad parent because sometimes I just want to hide under the covers and pretend like I don’t have any children so I can have a few minutes of quiet time?

Am I a bad parent because I cherish every moment of alone time I can find?

Am I a bad parent because my baby girl only ever had three real baths in the first month of her life?

Am I a bad parent because sometimes I just leave the baby in her pajamas all day?

Am I a bad parent because sometimes I make my son wear the same pajamas all week just to cut down on the endless pile of laundry?

Am I a bad parent because sometimes I ignore my baby’s wet diapers both out of laziness and a desire to save on diapers?

Am I a bad parent because I have no desire to ever be a full-time stay-at-home mother?

Am I a bad parent because I am letting my child watch a movie while I write this?

Am I a bad parent because I just want a few days off to go out and pretend I am not a breast feeding mother so I can go drinking all day like I did in my 20’s?

Am I a bad parent because sometimes I just want to run from my house screaming and let the kids take care of themselves while I jaunt off on some fabulous vacation?

Every once in a while I ask myself if I should be a parent at all or if the task of building a child’s future should be left to someone better equipped.  Someone asked me what I like the least about being a parent and my answer was “everything responsible.”  I hate the getting dressed, the tooth brushing, the diaper changing and the having to make sure my child eats nutritious meals. But I LOVE the dancing in the living room, singing ridiculous songs at the top of our lungs, kicking the soccer ball “like David Beckham” and coloring nonsensical pictures we pretend are rocket ships. 

 In this day and age of heightened expectations it is easy to see why mothers never really feel good enough. With all the advice coming at you not only from family but from the La Leche league, your pediatrician, Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, moms groups, etc. it is impossible to measure up.  I probably won’t breastfeed my baby until she is a year old.  I will be happy to make it to six months.  I may not make her homemade organic baby food the way I did with my first child.    My son will not be the first kid in his age group to be potty trained.  My children won’t go to the very best preschool.  But they will be loved more than I could have ever imagined.  And mothers should be reminded that nobody is perfect – we are all just doing the best we can and that’s enough.  Despite the whining and crying and sleepless nights, I love my children and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.  I can only hope I am doing enough to make sure they grow up to be as wonderful as adults as they are as children.