Coming clean

By Dione Goyette (May 19, 2006)


In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I would list for you all the bad mothering that I have been guilty of … partially to relieve myself of all my mothering sins and mostly so that all the other mother's out there can feel the relief that comes from knowing they're not as bad as that!

First of all, I buy potato flakes. Yup! The kind in the box. The kind that could double as laundry detergent. I found some here at Kike's (Oh, the joy of it all!) and I was so excited I snatched up the last box, sure that there would never be any more ever! But then, I turned and was face-to-face with my friend Nancy. "Hey!" she exclaimed accusatorily. "I thought you said in your article that you cook everything fresh now!" Oops! Didn't I say I was just getting better at cooking? Or did I embellish a bit and proclaim full transformation? In any case, my kids and I gorged on heaping platefuls of the stuff that night with loads of butter and way too much salt. (My husband was away. Shhhhh.)

Another fault. I let my kids watch the TV show 24. It's on once a week an hour after their bedtime and it can be very, very violent. It is absolutely not appropriate, and we all watch it with such gusto that it becomes a full-bodied experience. Lots of pillow-to-face moves, waving of fists and arms-thrown-in-the-air reactions. I rationalize it as a bonding experience as well as the opportunity to discuss inappropriate behavior, language, and so forth, but because I am trying to come clean here, I realize that it is absolutely not something they should watch-ever (and it is especially shameful because two of my kids go to the Waldorf School, and they prefer parents to limit television viewing of any kind. Ouch!)

Here comes a BAD one: I sometimes forget to bathe my kids. Sometimes we are so busy with hanging out, wandering around, going to activities, visiting friends and playing at the park that days will go by and I'll have this little needling thought trying desperately to enter my brain, like someone rapping persistently on my door. Finally, it will be invited into the brain cavity and I'll think, "Whoa! When was the last time you guys had a bath?" Now, to be fair, I am a compulsive hand washer for myself and for my kids. This happens several times a day even when we aren't about to eat, but I realize that this is clearly not enough, that there has to be some washing of the other body parts, preferably daily or at least bi-weekly! For this negligence I am very, very sorry.

I also break my own rules (read: I am not always consistent). I realize consistency is one of the key ingredients to good parenting. Without consistency, kids don't have clear boundaries and are sometimes unsure of their world.

I am so, so sorry for this, but is being totally consistent really possible? What about when their grandparents are in town and we want to have an extra Santa Clara (or "Santa Caro," as I like to call it), or what about when we come home from a super-fun party and I am feeling happy (lazy) so we order pizza for the second time in one day, or what if we decide to do Saturday chores on Sunday instead and we wear our pajamas till 4 in the afternoon? Tell me: Who has the willpower to stand by their rules every day? Who? Can you name one person? … and do they have any friends?

Finally, I steal their candy! Ouch!! This one is really bad!! I am a candy freak, and many times I buy and hide my own candy. This is OK as long as my kids don't smell it on my breath or my husband doesn't reveal me to them, as he is prone to do. One time, we were driving on a long car trip and I was sneakily breaking off tiny bits of licorice under the dashboard in the front seat. I would fake a cough or slowly raise my hand to my mouth so that I could slide the contraband into my mouth. My husband, of course, would see me and then glance in the rearview mirror as he would muse, "Do you guys smell anything? I sure smell licorice, don't you?" ARGHHHHH!! But the really bad part is when they are innocently at school studying and I seek out their loot bags from parties or stashes of piñata winnings. I carefully wade through all the chile candy and, like a heat sensor, go right for the chocolate. I am actually pretty good at it. I will never take the last of something, because then it will be surely missed. I only take one of multiples in hopes that they haven't taken inventory. Isn't this AWFUL?! Aren't I just a loathsome creature? Oh the sin!!

There are many more infractions, but I am quickly losing my dignity here, so in closing I want to offer my heartfelt apologies to my kids (and their Dad, who is a better Mom than I could ever be) and I want to extend my sincere congratulations to all the mothers out there who are not like me. I applaud you (truly), I wish I could be like you (but I can't), and I have one favor to ask: Please don't tell my kids about this article. I will let my kids read this when they become parents, but not before, because I still want them to think I am invincible (this fantasy is coming to a rapid end) and I still want all those fantastically adorable "Happy Mother's Day" cards.

Dione Goyette is the mother of three and novia/esposa to one. She and her family currently live in San Miguel. She can be contacted at mexgoyettes@yahoo.com.