It seems that moms — especially those with depression – just can’t win. According to a recently released study, those sleep issues that my child had — natch, HAS — exhibited since birth are probably (wait for it..) my fault.

“Researchers have now found that mothers who are depressed may cause sleep problems in their babies or make them worse, rather than the other way round.”

So instead of the baby being the cause of sleep deprivation in parents, these researchers have concluded that the mom who displays depression may be the one stealing all that precious, precious slumber from the family. Awesome: depression just loves to have some guilt heaped on it, it intensifies the flavour I hear.

And while I haven’t read the actual study there appears to be a leap in logic that I don’t quite get: how does a population of 45 Caucasian American moms – with only 14 identified as depressed - stand up to the age old #zombiemoms phenomena?

How claims can be made with any confidence when employing such a small test group and observation period (1 week. ONE WEEK) is beyond me. But what do I know? I’m just a long-time sleep-deprived parent who also dedicated the majority of her undergrad to analysing research like this for fun and good grades. And sport.

The fact that the results also relied on the mom keeping a written diary of their observations on sleep deprivation also makes me raise an eyebrow at these results. If you’d asked me to write down my feelings while dealing with a screaming newborn at 3 am, my diary would have read like the book ‘Go the F**k to Sleep‘ but with more tenderness. And swearing.

Maybe depressed moms do like to cuddle more or take more gratuitous hugs and snuggles during the night for some much needed emotional support like the researchers claim, but I’m not entirely convinced that snatching little bits of love and comfort qualify as sleep disruptions. Who here hasn’t watched their child sleep and reached out to touch a soft cheek, or kiss that dewy forehead, or just nuzzle up while their sometime hellion looks like an angel? But next time, remember: Shame on you for doing it, especially if you are depressed. You’re stealing from that elusive sandman! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.

Commencing another guilt trip in t-minus 10.

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Oh shit! They found us!

Never fear, my friends: There’s always a fantastic and rich selection of bad parents being called out on the internet.  Let’s get to it, shall we?

There was lots of great news this week about how everything that goes wrong with your child during their entire lives stems directly from what you eat when they’re in utero. Not one but two studies made the news this week, telling us that if we’re overweight during pregnancy then Everything’s All Our Fault, from autism to increased risks of diabetes in our kids. Now, I’m not saying that good nutrition and good overall maternal health are not super important. Of course they are. But chripes, can we tone down the histrionics a bit? Maybe, I dunno, think about addressing societal problems that lead to poor nutrition and obesity instead of telling mothers how much we suck for the rest of our kids’ lives? Yeah, I know. Me and my stupid logic.

You know those days when you feel like spray painting a big sign on the side of your car that says MOM’S TAXI? You wouldn’t be exaggerating. Turns out parents spend 50 hours a MONTH schlepping our darling little ingrates around. If I could find my calculator, I’d work out what that comes to at the local taxi rate, but it’s buried under a pile of toys and I frankly can’t be bothered, so.

This isn’t really about bad parents, but it’s about bad car manufacturers who seem completely oblivious to the needs of parents who have to put safety seats in their cars. For all those of you (meaning: every single one of you) who have fought with a goddamn Britax for an hour to get the thing in what seems like properly but you’re still wondering if it’s actually in the right way in the end and wondering if you’re taking your child’s life in to your hands every time you drive the car, this one’s for you: Car seats are hard to install because car manufacturers don’t give a rat’s ass about making it any easier. Given that us ladies control 85% of household spending, perhaps we could put a little pressure on them to start giving a crap?

By the way, if you’re ever caught on a sinking ship, don’t expect any men to let you go first. Turns out that twice as many men survive aquatic disasters as women. Use those sharp elbows to your advantage on the way to the lifeboats, ladies.

And how about this editorial judging Mayim Bialik for judging other moms? The irony. IT BURNS. In case you haven’t seen it, Bialik wrote a book on attachment parenting. In the book, she talks about her chosen parenting philosophy and why she believes in it, just in case any other parents are struggling and want to see what worked for some other people. Apparently, Bialik choosing to voice her opinion is wrong, because it makes other people who choose not to do what she does feel bad. You know what’s funny? I bet when other people talk about why they choose to parent the way they do, it doesn’t make Bialik feel bad at all. I wonder why that is? Maybe because she doesn’t give a shit about what you think? Yes, her parenting is different than yours. Yes, she wrote a book about it. If  you don’t agree with what she says? Then don’t read it. But whining about how Blossom “made you feel bad” doesn’t give you any parenting cred. It just makes you a whiner.

But you know what, gang? It’s not all bad. Turns out, having children may just make you live longer. And that’s a good thing, right?

Did you know May is Pregnancy Awareness Month? It’s true, here is the press release to prove it.

May is a busy month, Pregnancy has to compete for awareness with National Pet Month and National Masturbation Month.  Did you know that each and every month of the year has multiple themes attached to it? Check out the Wikipedia list. It’s hard to keep up with all the marketers, do-gooders and calendar-makers who want to raise our monthly awareness of pancakes, Geeks and low thyroid (all three of which I have a personal acquaintance with).

But Pregnancy Awareness Month? Who is not aware of pregnancy? Is it some kind of disease that we need to know more about because it is hidden in the shadows? Pregnant women are certainly aware of it (except those on the “I didn’t know I was pregnant” show, but my guess is they didn’t receive the press release). Every time a pregnant woman walks by me and I get that little lump of envy in my throat, I’m aware of it.  The retailers and marketers are aware. In fact according to the New York Times story, Target may be aware of your pregnancy before you even tell anyone — including your parents.

I’m sure the planners of PAM (yes, really) have the best intentions in mind when they came up with the idea. Their goals of nurture, educate, exercise and nutrition are certainly lofty. Their corporate sponsors are real, and the event sounds kind of fun.  But do we need to be more aware of pregnancy?

There are definitely women who need better access to information about pregnancy and how to stay healthy. But that isn’t the discussion in the media (or in American politics), the discussion tends to be about the more consumer or celebrity-driven aspects of pregnancy.

There are so many websites, magazines, blogs devoted to publicizing pregnancy and celebrity bump watch these days, that I actually feel like I want to be less aware of it. I don’t really want to know about all the things I could have done to make my fetuses healthier, smarter and better looking. I don’t want to know about celebs and their pregnancy diets or wardrobe, I don’t care about their weight gain. I have pregnancy awareness overload, in fact.

And now that Snooki is reportedly pregnant — I think we will all be sick of any talk of pregnancy very, very soon.

What about you? Do you think pregnancy needs more awareness?

The blogosphere has its knickers in a knot over this, the Atlanta, GA restaurant that has asked that people take their screaming kids outside to calm them down.

Um.

Am I the only one that isn’t bothered by this?

Seriously. This makes total sense to me. In fact, it’s what I do anyway.

If I’m at a restaurant and my kid starts freaking out, and that freakout can’t be contained at the table level, then I walk out with her. For a lot of reasons. To take her away from whatever it is that’s making her freak out. To get her attention focused on me. And, amazingly, to make sure that her craziness doesn’t bother anyone else.

Shocking, I know, that a parent could possibly have some sense of responsibility to those around her. Except it’s NOT shocking. Most parents I know would do the same thing. So I guess I am surprised that this restaurant feels the need to state it right there in their menu; “Please take your screaming whirling dervishes away from the glassware”. Because I do it anyway. It’s responsible, and kind to others, and good for your child, and what people just… do.

Don’t you?

This is, indeed, the Bad Moms Club.

Where every mother branded as a “Bad” mother can find solace and understanding. Because most of the time, when someone is branded as a “bad” mother, it’s just about judgment and finger pointing and people who refuse to take individual lives and choices in to perspective. Most of us “bad” moms aren’t really bad, is our point. Our point is that it takes all kinds of parents to make a world, and let’s all try to get through this together, shall we?

But sometimes, it’s really hard to give somebody the benefit of the doubt.

Like this mom, who has her two daughters compete against each other in pageants and allows them to torment each other about it to the point of tears.

I’m trying here. I’m really trying. But pageant moms, I gotta say, have used up a lot of their goodwill right off the bat, because teaching your child that it’s really important to wear a lot of make-up and smile pretty so that other people can judge your looks and give you prizes based on how pretty you are is massively fucked up in the first place. But OK, I can maybe believe that there are still people who are raising children in a healthy way even if they participate in pageants.

Maybe.

But this one just.. there’s nothing healthy here. These kids are in endless pageants, getting endless judgment on their looks, and it doesn’t even stop at home. They’re in a nonstop, 24/7 competition cycle with each other. And mom thinks it’s just fine because it’ll “toughen them up”.

When I parent, I try to think of the kind of person I’m raising. What she’ll look like in 20 years, inside and out. And I can’t help but think that these two kids are going to believe that looks get you everywhere, and that primping is more important than kindness, and that it doesn’t matter if you hurt the ones you love as long as you win.

I’m sure these children are loved. I’m sure they’re not abused. But I’m also sure that Mom has her priorities all messed up, and these kids are going to grow up with their priorities all messed up too, and that’s sad. And I wish I could sit her down and say, maybe you should…. step away for a bit, and teach your children that not everyone wants to be a model or an actress, and their brains and their souls count for things too and that it’s time to perhaps indulge those things a little more. And to teach them that maybe it’s a good idea to be kinder to your sister, instead of tormenting her or making her cry.

But somehow, I doubt she’d listen.

The least shocking news of 2012 broke this week, with deep South, deep-fat fryin’ down-home cooking guru Paula Deen admitting that she has type-2 diabetes, something the rags have been dishing on for years.

With signature recipes including Southern Fried Chicken, Cheese Biscuits, Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding and Paula’s Fried Butter Balls, as well as the admission in USA Today that she used to drink “sweet tea” from “… lunchtime … to bedtime,” I’m not sure how anybody – least of all, Paula, couldn’t have seen this coming.

Criticized heavily for promoting a fat- and sugar-laden diet – a diet which is linked to no shortage of health issues, from heart disease to obesity to diabetes – Deen famously once told Oprah, “I’m your cook, not your doctor,” and refuses even now to change her cooking show habits, insisting that she has always stressed moderation in eating.

Sure, Paula, and I’m sure that tobacco companies stress moderation in smoking. I hope Paula is ok, I really do, but the truth is, moderation would have put Paula out of business long ago. What does moderation constitute? Doing something 10% of the time? 25% of the time? I’m pretty sure that Paula would not stress moderation when it comes to people buying her heart-attack-waiting-to-happen recipe books, or the cooking implements she happily shills, which – the only real shocker here – does not include a signature deep fryer.

Also disturbing is the fact that Paula has kept the diagnosis close to her ample bosom for years, choosing only to come out of the deep fryer with her news as it coincides with her new appointment as spokesperson for Novo Nordisk, the pharmaceutical company that will be supplying Deen’s diabetes medication and implements. How quaint.

I am all for people taking responsibility for their own choices and for not playing the blame game when it comes to making the bad ones, but the critics have a point –Paula preaches a dangerous message to the throngs of the butter loving faithful.

It’s like Dr. Atkins developing heart disease, Ben Cohen (of Ben and Jerry’s) undergoing a quintuple (!) bypass, or the millionaire owner of Segway dying in a Segway accident – when you make your living dabbling in the unhealthy and stupid, it can eventually catch up with you.

It caught up with Deen, and as for the blame game, well, she has nobody to blame but herself.

There’s a lot of baby talk and Mommy judging in the news this week and since we’re all about Bad Moms over here, we might as well tackle the topics at hand.

First up, Michelle Duggar. The Duggars went on the Today show with their nineteen (!) children and two grandchildren to announce that Michelle was pregnant with baby number 20th. This, of course, has led to a lot of criticism from all sides. She’s had health concerns with past pregnancies (pre-eclampsia), she had a premature baby, and she’s 45 which means her pregnancy would be considered “high risk” even if it were her first pregnancy.

While I love children and love my children more than words can express, there is no way on God’s green earth that I want to be pregnant again. My pregnancies weren’t horrible, but they weren’t awesome either. My third gave me the added bonus of spider veins on the front of my legs that make me look like I have a permanent bruise and while pregnant I suffered from varicose veins in an unmentionable area. Every time I went for a checkup my doctor would ask how it was going and upon hearing my response would say, “Each subsequent pregnancy is harder on your body.” Then she’d perform my checkup and say, “I’m so sorry.”

I’m guessing that Michelle must have easier pregnancies than I did (True confession: I have never watched the show), so I guess…good for her? They are debt-free and from what I hear have a pretty decent family life, so what is there to judge? I have a friend whose Dad comes from a family of 13 kids. They love the size of their extended family and have great times when they can all get together. Large families aren’t so bad, I think, so I can’t really understand the uproar.

Maybe one of you don’t agree with me and can tell me why so many people are up in arms.

For the second big headline, our very own Emma wrote about a woman who became a mother at 57 via IVF and now, at the age of 61, says that critics were right that the age limit for IVF should be 50. While I am all for people having the right to do whatever they want with their own bodies (see above), when you have to get a donor egg because your body can’t produce them anymore, maybe that’s a sign that you are too old to conceive? The rest of your body is aging as nature intended, so why make it do what it is clearly not able to do anymore? Yes, you want a baby, but at what cost?

As a Mom myself, I know how hard having babies can be on your body. I had my first baby when I was 27 and my third when I was 31. Three babies in four years is a recipe for exhaustion in itself, but even when I had one newborn at the age of 27, I was TIRED. Up every two hours or so in the night to nurse him, trying to balance a household and help with my husband’s self-employment. I was in a sleep-deprived state for a good 6-8 months. And then, of course, once it lifted I thought, “Let’s do this again!” Oh, how quickly the mind and body forgets.

Age and exhaustion aside, I think that the most important thing here are the kids in stories such as this. The Mother in the story said something that came to mind as soon as I started reading the article:

I get a great emotional feeling when I look at her and a sadness when I realise time’s running out. If I could change just one thing I would wish to be younger so I could enjoy watching Freya grow up, get married and have children of her own.

GAH. This little girl is going to grow up and probably not going to have her Mom see her graduate from high school, never mind get married and have kids of her own. I mean, I get the desire to have kids but at what cost to the kids that you bear? To have to bury your Mom while you are still a child? I know that this is a risk all parents take — we don’t know the future — but when you become a parent so late in life, the odds are really stacked against you. I feel for the little girl and I feel for the Mom who just wanted a baby and now realizes that she won’t be around for her daughter. It’s a sad story, really.

What do you think? Should there be an age limit for IVF? Should Michelle stop at twenty babies and call it a (busy) day?

How often have you found yourself packing up the baby stroller for a day on the town with the offspring only to curse the lack of a gun rack next to the cup holder and snack tray?

That’s right, never.*

* it is highly possible that maybe someone out there actually has cursed this ‘oversight’ of the baby stroller manufacturers but those are the parents that scare me even more than the judgmental good moms skulking around the playground waiting for you to do something ‘bad’.

Anyway. I tripped across this post of pictures from some some really scary folks who have taken the time to outfit strollers with gun racks.

I'd like you to meet my little friend.

Admittedly there was a whole whack of hysterical judgement before the WHY behind the designs was established and for a long minute my inner judgmental parent screamed out a battle cry, a battle cry that hopefully would fit in under 120 characters so it could go viral in RTs on Twitter so many unsuspecting Tweeple could share in my misguided outrage.

ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?

But a little digging around revealed that the people behind these parambulators from hell had made these modifications for transportation convenience during hunting expeditions and they (hopefully) had no intention of putting a baby in-between the semi-automatic rifles and AK-47s. So I guess these rides are okay. I think. Good god, what are these people hunting for… T-Rexes?

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Mind you, this wasn’t the strangest bad idea I found on the interwebs in recent days. Twin Rivers Police Association in California had a t-shirt for sale via the union website that offended people that discovered it and so far it has caused quite the uproar despite being removed from the site.

At first glance the t-shirt made me laugh out loud but I really do get why folks were upset. If my local Toronto Police pulled this stunt I’d be equally ticked off. Judge for yourself:

Way to instill faith in the parenting skills of the citizens you serve Twin Rivers. *shakes head* Hopefully the removal and apology for their actions will be enough to regain some respect from the families in their community. Sometimes bonehead moves are just that, bonehead moves. I hope the bonehead who approved this idea realizes that sometimes funny isn’t so funny outside the box.

So thanks to Laid Off Dad, along came this little article in to my twitter feed that listed a mere dozen ways that we’re effortlessly, gleefully screwing up our kids for life.  Life, I tell you! Yes, they’ve gathered child psychologists! Psychiatrists! and OTHER EXPERTS (who’d they call? your mother-in-law?) to come up with this handy list of everyday things that you, too, are probably doing which will inevitably result in gigantic bills to either a therapist or bail bondsman later in your child’s life.   And what are these things we’re all doing to mess with our kids, pray tell? Are they things like violence? Verbal abuse? Oh no, no. Far worse. Much more insidious. To mess up your kid for life, you merely have to:

• threaten to leave your kids behind (guilty)
  lie to your kid (guilty) (No, honey, Elmo’s asleep right now, he can’t come sing on the big TV…)
  Ignore your own bad behaviour (guilty) (you should have heard the curses coming out of my mouth this afternoon when  I stubbed my toe for the goddamn 4,682nd time on that goddamn corner..)

Anyway, for the sake of brevity and to keep you from reaching the point where you really just want to call children’s aid on me already, I will let you know that I’m pretty much guilty of every single sin on the Atlantic’s list. And so, probably, are you. Because there is nothing that isn’t on it that we, as parents, don’t do every day just to get through the day.  We’ll rush, and we’ll serve junk food, and we drive our cars, and we just do whatever it takes to keep everyone alive and healthy and happy. And even by doing that, we’re screwing it up. So thanks, Atlantic, for providing us with yet another impossible measure, yet another list that tells us how we, as parents, are irrevocably screwing up the next generation and how the downfall of western society is ENTIRELY OUR FAULT.

So the way I figure it, given that we can do exactly nothing that does not screw up our kids, here’s a list of things I am henceforth not going to give a crap about when it comes to parenting.

1. Kraft Dinner. I have had quite enough of making homemade macaroni and cheese with wholewheat pasta and 1% organic freerange whatthehellever milk and cheese made from unicorn farts. A couple of bowls of KD are not going to kill her, and frankly, not having to stress one more ounce about making that carb-laden shit from scratch is better for both of us in the long run.

2. Swearing. She’s gonna learn the words somehow, might as well learn how to use them appropriately and in context. Bonus: She’ll be the cool kid on the playground. And I’ll get to know the Principal really well.

3. What anyone else thinks. Yeah, I might do things you’d never do as a parent. Tell you what: You call me in 25 years and remind me of that time I did that thing at the mall that you rolled your eyes and huffed at. And then I’ll laugh at you, then you’ll laugh at me, and then we’ll pop our teeth in and go have a drink and chortle at the things we all used to take so damn seriously.

Photo credit: D Sharon Pruit

My five-year old daughter is beautiful, objectively beautiful. The kind that stops people on the street, and it is often the first words out of people’s mouths when they meet her. She is my only girl so maybe that is the way with girls — strangers always obsessing over their looks. I try  not to remind her of her beauty.  The compliments out of my mouth are more often: your smile makes me feel good; you look happy; and when her outfit is over the top — is that comfortable to play in?

But her beauty is something I hold dear to my heart. Just like mothers everywhere, I stare at her flawless complexion, I appreciate the angle of her nose, her rich dark eyes.  I revel in it, and hope that she experiences some of the charmed life that the beautiful seem to have.

And then I got bad news the other day.

My daughter needs glasses. I realized that on the scale of bad news, this is just a blip, a pinprick, a minor incidence in a litany of admittedly first-world problems. But, at the risk of sounding completely self-centred, it made me feel horrible.

I didn’t realize how invested I am in her beauty until I was told she may have to cover it up with glasses. Say what you will about Violet Affleck, five-year old girls with glasses are cute but not beautiful.  People treat kids who wear glasses differently, they are more careful of them, they assume they are smarter. I know what you are thinking — that I am crazy. But I am right, and unless you were also a four-eyed kid, you can’t comment.

I wore glasses from the age of eight until Lasik surgery at 38.  I was your typical glasses and braces wearing smart kid. In my tween years, I had some of the ugliest, pink 80s-styled glasses that you have ever seen and I still carry the psychic scars from my Grade 9 Yearbook  photo. I graduated thankfully to contact lenses at 14.  Until I had Lasik, I was never able to see the other side of a swimming pool or open a car window without fearing losing a contact lens. I went through life being told by my mother to take my glasses off for pictures — so I would look beautiful.  My grandmother always told me that “boys don’t make passes at girls wearing glasses.”  I know from wearing glasses.

Of course, after the appointment I called my sister. Which as an afterthought was a bad move. What could a slim, blonde, non-glasses wearing, never-had-braces woman know about looking different? Nothing.  I told her maybe the upside is that my daughter would get in touch with her nerd side, as everyone would assume she was smart. She told me to get over my baggage. Which I could if it wasn’t so wedged in my psyche and hard to open.

I started to see the bright side — she would go through an awkward phase just as Tina Fey suggested.  She would be teased and learn to defend herself (kids are mean and will choose any opportunity to tease each other. I am not a novice on the schoolyard.). She would never be a mean girl (have you ever seen a mean girl with glasses? No.);  she would be forced to step up and become stronger all because of glasses.

Hyperbole? Perhaps.

But when it comes to our girls, we wish for them to be beautiful don’t we? Even we feminist mothers? The ones who should know better? We never want our kids to suffer, we don’t want them to have to go through whatever hardships (however small) that we did. We want the world to get past their physical appearance and know them on the inside. But sometimes we are confused about what we want — sometimes it takes small things to make you realize what kind of parent you are. Sometimes an easy doctor’s appointment can make you realize how shallow you are.

I will never tell my daughter to take off her glasses to be beautiful, I will buy her every prescription goggle-like apparatus that she needs to ensure that she stays in sports, that she swims. And I will also encourage her to cultivate her nerdy side – because in the end, it is her brain,not her looks that will give her a charmed life. I am starting to hope that maybe wearing glasses will allow my daughter’s winning personality to shine through the coke-bottled lenses. Or maybe it will not affect who she is at all, maybe she is stronger than that, and the world more forgiving, less likely to judge. Or maybe I’m just not seeing straight.

So, what do you think? Are you scarred by your appearance as a child? Do you think that kids wearing glasses get stereotyped?

Photo credit: D Sharon Pruit