Mom Moments: Sharing my 'bad mom' experiences with a side of bacon

Some days you feel like you're doing an okay job. There may even be days where you feel elated and things are going great and you feel confident that you're doing a wonderful job as parent. Then there are the days where something happens to slap you in the face and make you feel awful. Sometimes they are little things, that in the grand scheme of things don't seem all that major, but they kick you in the gut nonetheless.

I've had days that have fallen in each category, like I'm sure most parents have. I remember my first "bad mom" experience. My firstborn had been home from the hospital a few days and I was getting the hang of the motherhood thing. Feedings were going pretty good. He was sleeping well. I was diapering and changing him more often than needed. I was playing classical music and reading to him. I was cuddling with him constantly. I was feeling like I had a handle on things.

Then a horrific thing happened. I was undressing him to give him a bath. It had been maybe three days since his last bath and since that last bath, he'd had those little gloves covering his hands to keep him from scratching his face. Each day I changed them and put a different colorful pair over his little fists. So, you can imagine what I found when I pried open those fingers for his bath. Every little crease in his hand had collected lint from those gloves. I looked at those lint-covered hands and my hormone–filled brain had me bawling instantly. What kind of mother lets her son's hands get covered in lint?

I had another one of these "bad mom" days recently. Having five boys, it's pretty hard to keep up with each one — what's going on in their lives, what they're working on in school, what shows they like to watch and what foods they like to eat. But, it's a mom's job to know such things. Moms make it their business.

Recently, my dad, my 10–year–old and I decided to get lunch together at my favorite sandwich place. My son's not a big sandwich person, so I looked at the menu, wondering what might appeal to him. I read things off the list. "Hamburger? No. Sausage? No. Roast beef? You don't like that. BLT? You don't like bacon."

Then he said something that stunned me. "But I like bacon," he said. I turned my head and looked at him thinking maybe I was confusing his tastes with one of his brothers. But I knew I wasn't. We'd had bacon at breakfast the week before and I didn't remember seeing him eat any. "I never see you eat bacon," I said. "Yeah, I know," he answered. "I just don't eat it 'cause I know how much my brother loves it."

Wow ... there's that kick in the stomach again. How could I not know that my son likes bacon? Had I made him feel like he wasn't supposed to eat it? Was he really just being uber considerate of his bacon–loving brother? Were my lectures on the cost of food and not wasting it going too far and making him think we'd go bankrupt if I bought extra bacon? I just had this awful feeling. I could feel myself holding back tears. I felt like I didn't know him like a mother should know her son.

We ordered him a BLT, just like he wanted — extra bacon, hold the lettuce and tomato and mayonnaise (and then he removed the bacon from the bread and ate it all by itself.) We chatted later. I told him I always wanted him to feel free to tell me what's on his mind — even if it's that I don't buy enough bacon or that his brothers hog it all. I want to know him better and to know all my kids better and the bacon was a little wake–up call. I find myself asking more questions and trying harder to store them in my brain under the appropriate kid file.

So, even if you have a "bad mom" moment, it's what you do about it that counts. Moms are always striving to do better and sometimes something like simple, like a strip of bacon — of all things — helps you along.

The opinions expressed are solely the writer's. Carrie Steinweg, the mother of five, lives in Lansing. Reach her at csteinw@yahoo.com.