20 Times We Were Bad Parents This Week

I’m sure we aren’t alone in being seen as bad parents from time to time. But do you ever have a week or two where you can seemingly get it “wrong” really often? Parenting. It’s hard work. This is where I add the caveat of how I love being a parent, we love our kids and all that jazz, but whatever. Some weeks it’s just HARD and ANNOYING. And you’re constantly baffled as to why everything you say or do is WRONG WRONG WRONG! In the interests of sharing my misery to make me feel better, or in the hopes of solidarity in the comments section, here are 20 terrible things we’ve done to our kids recently.

Parents be like…

The List of Parenting Fails.

We wouldn’t let a kid who has no idea how to get to the shopping centre go there on her own while we were an hour away at another kid’s soccer final. Unfair! We should let her fly free! Arsehole parenting moment, right there.
The public indoor pool was only open for swimming lessons when we dropped in for a random swim, so we had to leave. We heard about this one for days, in tones of despair, from the 3 year old. Bad parents.
Made spaghetti bolognese because it’s easy and everyone eats it. Except my 3 year old who doesn’t like spaghetti anymore. We didn’t know. Are there any parents as terrible as we are?
Ran out of vegemite. Awful parents.
I used the downstairs toilet, forcing a teenager to walk upstairs to the other toilet. This, I am given to understand, was a new low in parenting.

Parents who make their children walk up stairs…
We refused to buy a 13 year old a new mobile phone (the latest iPhone, preferably) because her current phone, that she has for safety reasons, is too old to run Pokemon Go. We are now struggling to live with ourselves.
Made a toddler wear slippers in the middle of winter on a tiled floor. Judging from the reaction, this desire to keep her warm is reprehensible at best. It was loud enough that all the neighbours are now aware of what hideously cruel parents we are.
I opened the screen door by myself, without assistance from the 3 year old. She likes to open the screen door. I chose my battle unwisely and I’m a terrible human being.
Flushed the toilet for the toddler. Like I always do. But, that day, she wanted to do it. How do I even sleep at night?
Asked the tween and teens assist with weeding the garden, interrupting precious X-box time. If looks could kill, I would be suffering, at the very least, severe injuries right now.

If looks could kill…
Asked the older kids to bring their school uniforms out so that we could wash them, ensuring they had clean uniforms to wear. It’s like we didn’t even care about the YouTube video they were halfway through.
Asked owner of muddy soccer boots to remove them from my dining room floor, a move clearly designed to ruin their day.
Older child mentioned a birthday party invitation they’d received and the date of the party. I mentioned that date was actually my birthday. Judging from the heavy sighs and rolling eyes, I’m being unreasonable.
I went to work. I keep going to work. Toddler is almost 4, I have been going to work since she was 9 months old. How have I not yet learned that going to work is a terrible thing to do to her? It doesn’t matter that she is actually totally okay once I leave. This is irrelevant.

This is how I feel, leaving for work.
I told my toddler that this was a spatula. Her father agreed that it was a spatula. Apparently, it is not. We are heartless bastards.
We refused to buy Nutella and pop tarts because we are evil incarnate.
I did not pay $4 for a mini cupcake at the living hell that is the indoor play centre. By mini cupcake, I mean the kind that are gone in one bite that look suspiciously like the kind you get in a 12-pack from Woolies for $10. My maths isn’t great, but those numbers don’t add up. Unfortunately, toddler math equates to “Mummy didn’t buy me a cake therefore Mummy is a terrible parent”.
I went to a certain shop (Lush, if you were wondering), without a certain teenager. I knew she’d be pissed, so I bought her a bath melt from there. She was slightly mollified BUT it wasn’t the one she wanted. Sigh. It’s like I don’t even KNOW her.
I expected my 3 year old to walk to the house from the driveway. What was I even thinking?
After not 1 but 2 bungled batches of baked donuts, we had serious words with a teenager about following the recipe correctly. Judging from the sighs and banging noises emanating from the kitchen, this was a prime example of the unjust persecution she faces each day.