Worst Mom Ever

Some days I feel like I am a champion of motherhood. I balance showering, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, walking the dog, working out, and caring for my baby. Other days… Yikes.

There are some days when everything just falls apart.

She gets up early. She won’t nap. She’s fussy. She spits up on herself or her diaper leaks. A vital item is missing from my diaper bag. Did I mention fussy?

On the days she doesn’t nap well, I feel like pulling my hair out. I feel like I need to drink coffee all day, and then switch to wine after she goes to bed.


My expectations and hers don’t always coordinate. It is unbelievably frustrating, and on some days, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into, being a stay-at-home mom.

On those days, I have to remember that each day is different. Some days with my daughter are better than others. (The best days are when she’s not teething!) I have to remember that although the bad days stand out, there really are more good days.

I have to remind myself that I am still new to this, and there is a learning curve. And then there’s my daughter, who is learning and growing, which are both difficult things. We don’t have control on how each day will be, but we can try to work together to make it as good as we can.

I’m not the first mom to have her baby stick her hand in coffee, or throw up sweet potatoes on a friend’s white carpet. I’m not the first mom to have her child cry at the grocery store. That’s just part of the job description.

At the end of the bad days, after my daughter has gone to sleep, I reward myself with some “me” time. Forget about laundry or dishes, my mental health is more important. I put my feet up, watch TV, or read a book, maybe fit in that shower I’ve been wanting all day. Usually there is also ice cream or dark chocolate.

Sometimes I spend a little time catching up with my husband, mom, or a good friend. I made it through a tough day, and I deserve some love and support.

When I go to bed at night, it’s time to recharge for the next day. The next day could be another mess, but maybe it won’t be. It doesn’t have to be. I choose to hope for the best each morning, because each day is new. Maybe tomorrow she will take two long naps, and I will get all the laundry done. Maybe tomorrow she will learn something new—it will be magical. Even the best moms have bad days, and we wouldn’t be good moms without them.


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