This weekend, I tried to cut Jeffrey’s hair. A trip to the barber is out of the (ha!) budget right now, so I dug out the clippers, and convinced him to let me attack his giant red haystack.

What’s that about the best of intentions?

When I turned the clippers on and they made that jarring chunka-chunka noise instead of a smooth humm, that should have been my first clue. But no. I popped Jeff on the bathroom counter, put the longest guard on the chunka-clippers and began to buzz.

Jeffrey immediately began to complain, twitching and hunching and leaning away from me and my evil clippers. The hair was going down his shirt. OK, so I got him a towel. The hair was already downhis shirt. OK, I took his shirt off, and re-smocked him in the towel. I got the towel on backwards, and now he was itchy. OK. Deep breath. Brushing him off with the chunka-clipper included brush thingy, I went back to his hair.

Now he was wiggling, leaning, shrinking and complaining. Going well? nope. But again, I heeded the warning signs not, and plowed on, me and the chunka-clippers. I kept trying to get him to sit up straight, and he kept leaning farther and farther away. I was getting mad, he was getting mad, the clippers had been mad from the get-go.

When he turned his little face, sprinkled with freckles and full of anger at me, I lost my cool. OK, I never had it at all, but that’s when I really dropped my basket. Picking him up and plunking him on the floor, I told him Fine, he could have half a haircut. I didn’t care. It would have been hard to tell who was the six-year old in the room, had you been a fly on the wall.

Obstinate little man he is, he stood his ground, and told me he hated me. I threw the towel at him and told him to get out of the bathroom. Yeah. Finest. Moment. Ever.

We both ended up crying, and I crawled under his quilt in bed, where he was hiding, and we hugged it out. I promised, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, I will never, ever, ever, ever give him a haircut again. We agreed that I am, without a doubt, a “poo-poo head hair cutter”. That is a direct quote.

Anyone else have some fine parenting moments? Surely, I am not alone in sucking sometimes at this whole mom thing. Surely…?

19 thoughts on “Worst.Mom.Ever.

  1. Where the heck do I start? Yelling at children before bed and not apologizing until the next day? Refusing to listen when they say “Mom! I just have to tell you something!” because I’m so angry at what they did and I just physically put them in their rooms and shut the door? Dismissing their concerns with flippant “Get over it!” phrases?

    I’ve had many worst mom moments.

    Luckily, all of them have been followed with the hugging-it-out apologies, and they forgive me every time. And I forgive all their mistakes, too. So good to have forgiveness, eh?

  2. I have totally had my fair-share… but the one that sticks out most in my mind is when my 2 year-old was fighting her nap in a major way, and after 45 minutes of arguing, I was fed-up and threw her Zoe doll across the room as hard as I could. Zoe’s eye broke in a dozen pieces and instead of saying “sorry”, I asked my daughter if she wanted me to do that with Elmo, too! Yes, I felt horrible as I walked downstairs, but I have to admit that I did feel a tiny bit accomplished since she did go right to sleep after that! (this is me blushing from embarrassment…)

  3. Oh I’m sure I’ve done worse. I can’t remember any specifics. I can of course remember some things my own mom did, though…!

  4. My kids are all grown up and I now have an 8 month old grandson. But after all of these years, I still can get tears in my eyes when I remember some of my crazy, out-of-control, pms rantings at my kids. Really – some of them were just horrible and twenty years hasn’t wiped a few of the worst of them from my memory. But, fortunately, my kids don’t remember them – or maybe they just tell me that to make me feel better??? Please don’t feel that you are alone.

  5. Stop! This post is killing me! I can SO relate. And that “poo-poo head hair cutter” label is making my side ache I laughed so hard.

    You would think, a beauty blogger with 5 girls would know something about hair styling. You would think, she is probably one of those moms who’s children come to church perfectly coiffed every Sunday.


    Cutting/styling hair along with piano lessons and home schooling are out of the question for us for the same reasons. Any other child besides my own would be fine. Another huge irony of Motherhoood (at least mine)!

  6. Oh my GOSH! You don’t have room for all of the times I’ve made mistakes 🙂 SO I’m not even going to start. I’ve forgiven my parents for the ones they made and I hope my children forgive me for the ones I did. And strangely enough at the moment they still seem to like to spend time with us even though they’re older and we’re not cool and dh and I sometimes get mushy 🙂

    And isn’t it amazing how much a haircut can make things crazy even when the clippers are working right?!

  7. I don’t think this even gets you in the running for worst mom ever, but I know how you feel. Hugging it out is good. Laughing about it later is good.

    I hope you got pictures of the half a haircut!

  8. Just last week we had our own haircutting issue. My nine year old was a-nagging. (Cut my hair, Mom. Cut. My. Hair. Mom. Cutmyhairmom. OK already.) The clippers were in dad’s room. Dad was asleep. So the monkey got me the scissors. And to just make him stop, fully planning on fixing it in a few minutes when his dad got up, I began cutting concentric circles into his hair. We were both laughing. Soon dad was up and we got the clippers. As I flipped them on, there was a flash and a pop and it was over. No more clippers. I had a smokey black spot on my hand and my son looked like he had crop circles on his head. To fix it, I had to shave him nearly bald with his dad’s electric razor trimmy thing. 😦

    Love and snuggles and sorries make up for a lot. And I’m SO glad because I tend to need a lot of make-ups.

  9. You could have a sick kid in the nurses office for two hours before you actually get around to checking your voicemail 😉
    Seriously though, in order to make me feel betterThing 1’s teacher told me a story today about one of her doozy moments as a mom. She’s, like, the most patient and awesome teacher ever , and her kids have turned out great, so I’m going to give everyone a clean slate!!!

  10. 2xaday – You are my favorite and I miss you so much!

    Tray – Love and miss you too. If thats the worst, your not doing too bad under the circumstances.

  11. I remember N telling me he hated me and meaning it. It was because of something with the divorce/child custody/rules… we both also ended up crying and getting snotty together…

    Not a fine mommy moment… and when he said that… knife thru teh heart a dozen times.

  12. Next time your kid falls off of the top of his brothers little tykes car in the morning and complains that his wrist hurts but you think he’s faking so you make him do his chores (which include hauling the trash) and you leave him at home all day long while you go to lunch and leisurely visit your niece and her new baby and then you come home and his little face is a pale-greenish color and his wrist is the size of a baseball and you FINALLY take him to the doctor at 6pm after he’s been at home in pain all day long and you find out that indeed, his wrist IS broken, call me.

  13. okay, so 16 comments in, you realize you aren’t alone right? We’ve all been there, I’m sure!! I can’t think of any specific examples, but Oh, how I promise I have some! Maybe it’s selective memory…

  14. Thanks everyone! It’s indeed reassuring that we all have Poo-Poo-Head mommy days.

    Becky- you may, in fact, take the cake. But I may need your number, you know, just in case….

  15. There is a reason I do not cut my kids’ hair. Tracy, your post sums it up pretty well.

    I have my share of horrible mom moments, as well as my share of hugs and apologies. I’m glad my kids seem to forgive my mistakes, foibles, and weaknesses.

    It is so reassuring to know we are not alone in our bad mommy days!

  16. nothing like kids to make you realize how bad of a temper you have and how immature you can behave. Its nice to know I’m not the only one that when pushed to my limit can act like a 2 year old too!

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