Taunting – apparently, in my house, it’s the new parenting strategy. This morning over breakfast my older son, now three, was refusing to feed himself. Again. A habit he picked up after his younger brother was born and which I expected to occur. In preparation for the baby’s birth I did as much research as I could about what I’d see from my older child once a sibling was introduced and about how to ease that transition as best I could. So I knew all about the whole regression thing. I was prepared for it on all fronts, because I was a good parent like that. You know, one who did research and knew every little thing.

But now, fourteen months later (yes, the baby is now fourteen months old and we are still dealing with the blasted regression) at 7:00am, my preparation is out the window, along with my patience, as my preschooler demands with shrieks, tears, and orders that I feed him his oatmeal. The result was not one of my more stellar parenting moments.

“Are we pretending you’re a baby this morning? Because Robby is able to feed himself and is eating his breakfast on his own, and he’s only one. Are you even younger than Robby?”

And then I pause, waiting for my husband to give me the settle-down-you’ve-gone-over-the-edge face, because I know as soon as the words are out of my mouth that I have crossed the line. But instead, he chimes in with, “Robby, you’re such a big boy! Look at you feeding yourself all on your own. Are you bigger than Sam?”

At which point, of course, Sam begins to yell that he’s bigger than Robby over and over again. And my husband looks at him and says, “Prove it.”

Ah, yes, parenting at its best. Perhaps we should tape signs to his back, or shoot spitballs in his hair. You can just see both of us out on a playground teasing younger, weaker children, can’t you? Except that neither of us was ever like that. We’re good people. We are. But this parenting thing, in so many ways it has brought out the worst in us (and, of course, the best, but that’s a different post).

If there’s anything I’ve learned since becoming a mom it is that we’re none of us perfect. I’ve worked hard to let go of the judgmental attitude I once held toward other parents who I would see behaving badly, telling myself that I’d never be that way, even when my kids were older. And when I say I’ve “worked hard” to let go of that attitude, I mean I screwed up over and over again causing me to look at myself from an observer’s standpoint and say, “Holy crap – I’m totally that mom.” My judgmental phase occurred when I was either childless, pregnant, or in the very beginning of parenthood, a newbie, if you will.

But now I know. Lordy, I do. Now I know that sometimes it is 7:00am and the coffee is still brewing and no one has even showered yet and we are on our first meal of the freaking day and the night was so bad that this might as well just be a continuation of yesterday because certainly the present tantrum has not let up for twelve hours since dinner last night and my kid has been screaming non-stop since he woke up and well, sometimes, I’m just not perfect. Sometimes I do shit I regret, like comparing my kid to his younger brother in order to get him to eat a bite of oatmeal. But it’s only because I want the kid to eat a bite of oatmeal! I just want him to live! I want him to thrive! Like all of you, I just want the best for my child.

I was hesitant to write this post, especially as my first one here at The Imperfect Parent, because I know you guys don’t know me; this example is all you have to go on, and perhaps it will not be received well. Then I realized, there’s nothing you can say about my behavior I haven’t already said to myself in my own personal self-flagellation throughout the course of the day. We’re none of us perfect parents, that’s for sure, but man we really know how to let ourselves have it when we stray, don’t we? Oh, and for the record: I totally fed my son his oatmeal out of guilt for what I had just done. How many mess-ups in one morning is that?

Hi, I’m Beth. I’m an imperfect parent, and I’m new here, at The Imperfect Parent. My “beat,” as it were, is “Parenting Issues.” How’s that for blog fodder? Since becoming a mom, I might say that everything qualifies as an issue of parenting. Everything relates, somehow, to what I am doing with my children and how I am doing with my children, because it seems that’s all I do. So let’s have at it.

Until my next utter failure . . .