I’m a crappy mom.
Here are all the things I do to screw up my kid:
I hug him every day.
I kiss his boo-boos.
I use cloth diapers.
I breastfed him for a year.
I supplemented with formula.
I use disposables at night because it’s easier than finding a cloth diaper that works.
I let him eat dinner without washing his hands first.
I follow a regular vaccination schedule.
I teach him to dance to Slipknot as often as Miley Cyrus.
I let him bring a sippy cup to bed with him at night.
I use positive parenting techniques instead of physical discipline.
I don’t disinfect his toys.
I chose (with my husband) to have him circumcised as an infant.
I keep him rear-facing even though he’s two years old. And I’d probably do it forever if I could.
I taught him not to lick the windows instead of paying to test them for lead paint.
I drop everything when I come home to say hello and make sure he knows I am happy to see him.
I skip brushing his teeth if he’s already fallen asleep on the way home.
I wash all of his clothes separately so I can use special laundry soap to avoid additives and chemicals.
I try to use natural or organic products around the house.
I let him mix his food however he wants.
I teach him about God.
These are all things I do as a parent. I don’t feel the need to defend or justify my actions. I am happy to talk with others about my parenting style, philosophy, or decisions, because I know being a mom (or dad) is tough, and sometimes it’s helpful to hear how other people are doing things.
I don’t care if some people think the things listed above make me a “crappy” mom.
I am Levi’s mom.
What matters to me is that he feels loved, safe, and nurtured.
So far, I think I’m doing alright.
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