Bad Mommy Days


A few weeks ago, my son didn’t do well on an assignment. He’s like me in that we both like to do things “right”. We aren’t rule breakers and we don’t like to fail or disappoint others. In this situation, he wasn’t worried about the unsatisfactory grade. He was worried about disappointing me, his dad, and his teachers. He didn’t want anyone to think badly of him. We talked it over and I let him know that one bad grade doesn’t make him a bad kid or even a bad student. I would still love him, his dad would still love him, and his teachers didn’t think poorly of him. I reminded him that we all have bad days and we all have an assignment or two that doesn’t go how we expect but it’s important to not get so wrapped up in our failures that we forget just how awesome we are. We hugged it out and all was right in his 7-year-old world.

After I had this conversation with him, I realized how it also applies to me as a mother. I’ve had some bad mommy moments or even bad mommy days. I can think of plenty of moments where I felt like I wasn’t giving them my best. I’ve been short with them, raised my voice out of frustration, and been impatient with the two little people that call me mommy. These moments don’t make me a bad mom. They make me a human who is having a bad day.

Living during a pandemic can be difficult, to say the least. There are some days when I feel like I’ve got it figured out and others that don’t need to be discussed. I’ve heard and read countless times to have grace with others. We also need to have grace with ourselves. Motherhood, especially in the middle of a pandemic, is not always a fun or easy journey. We won’t always have the right answer. We will make a mistake or a couple.

I’ve come to realize what I beat myself up about, my kids don’t care. They still love me despite what I perceive as faults as their mother. My son still comes to me for hugs and to tuck him in at night. My daughter still wants all the cuddles. I’ve had to remind myself, that just like my son was worried about his grade, his one bad grade doesn’t make him a bad student, and one or two moments of impatience or frustration don’t make me (or any of us) bad moms.