I’m not a perfect parent (there is no such thing by the way, don’t ever let anyone tell you there is!) and sometimes I’m a bad one. Welcome to my Bad Parent blog post series…
I upset my small son. I made him furiously cross in fact. He was so angry at me, that in his rage, he called be a “meanie, banana poo head” and stomped off and slammed his bedroom door. He was indeed so affronted and offended that he made me a poster to show me exactly how bad I was.
This picture is based on the system they have at school, where if you are naughty you get sent to a time out space, called amber, to cool down and have a chat about what’s going on, and if you are really bad, you go to red, and basically that’s a trip to visit the head teacher for a chat.
As you can see, my sins are great, and I’m in red. Do not pass go, you’re off to jail, report to the head teacher pronto…
I’m in the dog house, the BAD books. I’m the worst parent in the world. My small son is VERY cross at me.
Why, you ask? What terrible thing did you do, to elicit such a drastic reaction? Why are you on red, mum?
I’m so mean, I’m so horrible. I confess all…
I refused to let him do his Maths homework. I told him he was tired, it was a little complicated, we would do it after supper, when I could sit with him properly and help him (this all happened whilst I was cooking supper) and I wouldn’t tell him the password to login to his homework online (because I knew he’d try to do the maths, he’d get frustrated and angry and then I’d have a meltdown to deal with before dinner) I explained why gently, I told him that as soon as we’d eaten, we’d do it, and that I wanted to help him. I’m not really horrible, I promise.
But, apparently, my small son wanted to do that jolly maths homework right there and then, and I am the most unreasonable and mean human out there and so, I’m on red, I’m in time out, and I must face my crime like a brave woman, I’m a REALLY bad parent.
*of course, I’m not that bad, and I did eventually get my small son to calm down, and we had a chat about why he was cross, and why I wasn’t letting him do his maths right there and then, and we made up, I helped him with his maths, and am forgiven and no longer need to report to the head for a chat about my behaviour. It was pretty funny though*
Got a bad parent confession you’d like to get off your chest? Feel free to share in the comments! Wine, gin and chocolate will be handed round as we support and comfort each other in our bad parenting moments!