A Bad Mom Moment

tick bite

When I broke my arm for the third time, Mom didn’t hesitate. She rushed me into the emergency room within the hour. But the first time, I went 2 weeks with a greenstick fracture from my wrist almost to my shoulder before she finally decided to take me to the doctor. I remember her telling me to lift my dad’s heavy work boots with my broken arm. “See,” she said, “It can’t really be hurt or you couldn’t lift this up.”

 

Finally, we were about to go on a trip when she decided to have me checked out just in case because I still kept whimpering about my arm.

When the doctor explained how badly my arm was broken, Mom nearly cried. The only thing that made her feel better was when he explained that his own daughter had had a broken leg for a week before he believed her.

 

I knew my mom had done her best. I got a kick out of teasing her about child neglect but I wasn’t serious.

But I found I’m not as forgiving of myself.

 

Yesterday, my littlest scratched at an itch and tore the body of a tick off while leaving its head in. When I saw what had happened, I quickly removed the head right there outside. But I got distracted, forgot to put Neosporin on it or clean it. My husband was rightly horrified when he found out.

 

Please, tell me stories about your worst parenting moments.  Maybe your stories will keep my story from thrumming in my ears.

  • Laytonville Rock
Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestmail

30 comments

  • Eight days ago Boo was kind of whiny and cranky, and spewed his breakfast all over his school clothes. I sent him to school. Seven days ago he was so lethargic and “out of it” so we went to Costco (and everywhere else we need to go on Saturdays) to get his new glasses anyway. Finally, last Sunday, when I had other obligations, he was just limp and had had a low-grade fever the night before, and was still spewing occasionally so I decided to take him to the urgent care place. He had strep throat. And, so did I.

    Because he’s non communicative, I hate to take him to the ER everytime he isn’t acting exactly like I think he should (like we did New Years Eve). It’s hard to know when to panic about a special-needs child’s off days. 🙁 Maybe I’d feel worse if he had been saying “Momma, I not feel good” for 3 or more days and I hadn’t listened. But it’s hard to say.

  • Eight days ago Boo was kind of whiny and cranky, and spewed his breakfast all over his school clothes. I sent him to school. Seven days ago he was so lethargic and “out of it” so we went to Costco (and everywhere else we need to go on Saturdays) to get his new glasses anyway. Finally, last Sunday, when I had other obligations, he was just limp and had had a low-grade fever the night before, and was still spewing occasionally so I decided to take him to the urgent care place. He had strep throat. And, so did I.

    Because he’s non communicative, I hate to take him to the ER everytime he isn’t acting exactly like I think he should (like we did New Years Eve). It’s hard to know when to panic about a special-needs child’s off days. 🙁 Maybe I’d feel worse if he had been saying “Momma, I not feel good” for 3 or more days and I hadn’t listened. But it’s hard to say.

  • Several years ago, I let my 3-year old go down a huge concrete slide by herself and as I looked on with horror, my friend had to run over and grab her before she spun out of control….dummy daddy moment.

    Two years ago I ignored the same kid’s complaints of a stomache ache and went back to sleep. My wife was not so quick to dismiss the kid’s complaints, and called Kaiser. They checked her out and found she had apendicistis! Duh………….

  • Several years ago, I let my 3-year old go down a huge concrete slide by herself and as I looked on with horror, my friend had to run over and grab her before she spun out of control….dummy daddy moment.

    Two years ago I ignored the same kid’s complaints of a stomache ache and went back to sleep. My wife was not so quick to dismiss the kid’s complaints, and called Kaiser. They checked her out and found she had apendicistis! Duh………….

  • They are too numerous to mention. I can’t count the times I’ve been heard to say…”What do you mean you TOLD me it itched/hurt/burned?! If you did, why didn’t you tell me it was THIS bad?” Dang kids, you just don’t know when to worry. Truly Kym, you are not alone.

  • They are too numerous to mention. I can’t count the times I’ve been heard to say…”What do you mean you TOLD me it itched/hurt/burned?! If you did, why didn’t you tell me it was THIS bad?” Dang kids, you just don’t know when to worry. Truly Kym, you are not alone.

  • When I was a wee little tike, and we were on vacation somewhere, my Dad put my shoes on one day instead of my Mom. About half-way through the day, I was apparently wailing about how much my feet hurt. My Mom couldn’t figure out what I was complaining about…until she looked at my feet and discovered that my dear, old, left-handed Dad put my shoes on the wrong feet.

  • When I was a wee little tike, and we were on vacation somewhere, my Dad put my shoes on one day instead of my Mom. About half-way through the day, I was apparently wailing about how much my feet hurt. My Mom couldn’t figure out what I was complaining about…until she looked at my feet and discovered that my dear, old, left-handed Dad put my shoes on the wrong feet.

  • I don’t think it’s safe to have a broken arm that long…

  • I don’t think it’s safe to have a broken arm that long…

  • Thank you guys, I don’t know whether its the passage of a little time or your stories or the fact he doesn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects but I’m no longer beating myself up.

    And Squirt, that’s the point. As parents, we constantly make decisions– some of which turn out bad. How do we live with the guilt?

  • Thank you guys, I don’t know whether its the passage of a little time or your stories or the fact he doesn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects but I’m no longer beating myself up.

    And Squirt, that’s the point. As parents, we constantly make decisions– some of which turn out bad. How do we live with the guilt?

  • My kids were afraid to go into the bathroom themselves. They kept telling me they heard noises.
    I poo pooed them and told them to “get over it”. (My husband likes to tell them scary stories and watch scary movies with them. I often deal with irrational fear from them and don’t have much patience for it).
    Turns out there was a mouse in the wall.
    They really did hear noises.
    Too often, they tell me things and I don’t believe them or I downplay what they say. Not all the time, but enough that it’s hard not to beat myself up.

  • My kids were afraid to go into the bathroom themselves. They kept telling me they heard noises.
    I poo pooed them and told them to “get over it”. (My husband likes to tell them scary stories and watch scary movies with them. I often deal with irrational fear from them and don’t have much patience for it).
    Turns out there was a mouse in the wall.
    They really did hear noises.
    Too often, they tell me things and I don’t believe them or I downplay what they say. Not all the time, but enough that it’s hard not to beat myself up.

  • What is it about husbands, sons, and scary movies? I remember debating with my husband whether Bambi was too harsh for my boys then coming home one day to find them all watching Schwartzenegger’s CliffHanger right as some poor fellow is struggling alive but impaled on a stalagmite–blood everywhere. Arrgh!

    And I hate the choice whether to believe or not to believe. Too often either way, I’m wrong.

  • What is it about husbands, sons, and scary movies? I remember debating with my husband whether Bambi was too harsh for my boys then coming home one day to find them all watching Schwartzenegger’s CliffHanger right as some poor fellow is struggling alive but impaled on a stalagmite–blood everywhere. Arrgh!

    And I hate the choice whether to believe or not to believe. Too often either way, I’m wrong.

  • Just read my blog and you will find all sorts of bad mom moments. 🙂 It’s okay. We can’t be perfect all the time. 😛

  • Just read my blog and you will find all sorts of bad mom moments. 🙂 It’s okay. We can’t be perfect all the time. 😛

  • My daughter would travel back to her grandparents for a good length of time most summers. Communication was sketchy (no phone) and somehow over the course of the month that she was away, I got it in my head that the day she was returning, was the day after she actually due to fly in. So, she arrived at SFO (complete with her cello!) and I was no where to be found. (..obviously, I wasn’t coming until the next day!) Now-a-days they’d probably cart the poor child off the nearest social services office. But the stewardess on duty took her home after she got off, and played Monopoly, while my parents managed to get a phone call through to a friend in town who found me and explained the horrific mistake I’d made. Needless to say I left for San Francisco post haste. My daughter will never let me forget that one…

  • My daughter would travel back to her grandparents for a good length of time most summers. Communication was sketchy (no phone) and somehow over the course of the month that she was away, I got it in my head that the day she was returning, was the day after she actually due to fly in. So, she arrived at SFO (complete with her cello!) and I was no where to be found. (..obviously, I wasn’t coming until the next day!) Now-a-days they’d probably cart the poor child off the nearest social services office. But the stewardess on duty took her home after she got off, and played Monopoly, while my parents managed to get a phone call through to a friend in town who found me and explained the horrific mistake I’d made. Needless to say I left for San Francisco post haste. My daughter will never let me forget that one…

  • Yikes!!! That is one of my nightmares. I frequently jerk awake in the middle of the night convinced I have left one of my sons at school or waiting for me in town. My heart pounds for awhile after that dream. I’ll bet it was worse in person.

    Luckily it all turned out okay!

  • Yikes!!! That is one of my nightmares. I frequently jerk awake in the middle of the night convinced I have left one of my sons at school or waiting for me in town. My heart pounds for awhile after that dream. I’ll bet it was worse in person.

    Luckily it all turned out okay!

  • OK Kym.. here’s a bad one. When Leo was little, back in the late 60s, he ate a whole bottle of baby asprin. I decided to save money by trying to gag him with my finger rather than going to emergency. Suffice to say that it didn’t work and probably traumatised the little guy. The ER doc gave him ipecac and the asprin came right up. The doc was nice and gave him a checkup discovering an ear infection. We left with some free penecillin and great relief. The whole thin really freaked us out and probably lives on in Leo’s subconcious.

  • OK Kym.. here’s a bad one. When Leo was little, back in the late 60s, he ate a whole bottle of baby asprin. I decided to save money by trying to gag him with my finger rather than going to emergency. Suffice to say that it didn’t work and probably traumatised the little guy. The ER doc gave him ipecac and the asprin came right up. The doc was nice and gave him a checkup discovering an ear infection. We left with some free penecillin and great relief. The whole thin really freaked us out and probably lives on in Leo’s subconcious.

  • Once Clay got hold of Mom’s medicine. I called poison control. I was in Oakland at the time so when they sent me out to get ipecac I could do it. I remember him throwing up and me putting him in a nice warm bath to clean him up. Of course he threw up in the tub –chunks of potato and carrot and meat. He cried and cried.

    I felt so bad. Eventually, I managed to soothe him a little by telling him he looked like Clay Soup sitting there in the vat of water with chunks all around. “Clay soup” is still a joke in our house.

  • Once Clay got hold of Mom’s medicine. I called poison control. I was in Oakland at the time so when they sent me out to get ipecac I could do it. I remember him throwing up and me putting him in a nice warm bath to clean him up. Of course he threw up in the tub –chunks of potato and carrot and meat. He cried and cried.

    I felt so bad. Eventually, I managed to soothe him a little by telling him he looked like Clay Soup sitting there in the vat of water with chunks all around. “Clay soup” is still a joke in our house.

  • I have three little ones and I can’t count the number of time’s I’ve had a super duper case of mommy guilt, over something I could or couldn’t control. You want to protect them from everything but at the same time, you can’t go crazy doing it. I hear your pain :o(.

  • I have three little ones and I can’t count the number of time’s I’ve had a super duper case of mommy guilt, over something I could or couldn’t control. You want to protect them from everything but at the same time, you can’t go crazy doing it. I hear your pain :o(.

  • Pingback: Mothering or Even Optimists have Down Days « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

  • Pingback: Mothering or Even Optimists have Down Days « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *