Ten epic but hilarious parneting fails we’ve all made
Parenting isn’t easy, and it doesn’t come naturally or with a handy book you can refer to every now and then. To be fair I often come a cropper and I thought I would share these fails I’ve experienced in my 14 years as a parent with you. I’m not embarrassed to admit I’ve probably done a few of these with all three children. I’m going to start from the baby stage! Please feel free to add yours in the comment.
Forgetting your breast pads…
Huge faux pas. I returned to work three months after having my first two and got caught out so many times. 7 o’clock starts and no coffee before leaving the house I’d usually stuff breast pads in my handbag or my work document bag.
So I was sitting in a testosterone fuelled office meeting at nine having stopped off at McDonalds for coffee. I’d pumped enough breast milk to feed a small baby army before setting off, so I was feeling pretty confident that bubs would be ok for the day. I think it was one of my first days back in regular bras as well because I’d worn a silky purple blouse to work and was busy taking notes.
My shirt was sticking to me so I pulled it away from my front only to notice that I was leaking quite profusely and had two very dark patches on my front. Grabbing my A4 note pad as tightly as I could to my chest (and soaking that in the process) I headed to the female toilet and bought pads to stick in my bra…fortunately for me, one of the girls at work lent me a t-shirt probably because of the sheer desperation strewn all over my face.
It’s only a fart
How many times have I said that to myself? Awh they trumped. They’ll be fine, I’ve only just changed their nappy…middle son was epic farter and I never knew when he’d just pumped or produced volcanic poonami in his nappy. The only way of testing it was leaving it for around ten minutes and if the smell was still as abhorrent then get him changed. Well one day when we were out walking and he was in the baby carrier, he produced a series of little train pumps. You know the cute ones that come in quick succession.
After about ten minutes, I thought I was getting sweaty, because there was no smell whatsoever, so I headed to the nearest café for a nice cool drink and something to eat with my daughter. Upon taking Ellis off my back however, I noticed I was more than just sweaty. I was covered in his diarrhoea, as was his baby carrier, and down to his socks. Epic parenting fail. Home we went. Much to my daughters dismay.
Parenting for dummies
It’s normal to give babies a bath, right? Well how about giving a child a bath in his or her socks? I’ve done this one with all three I’m sure and haven’t noticed that I haven’t removed quite all of the clothing. Sure sign that coffee limit for the day has not been achieved.
Swim nappies are actually a thing
Ok, so this one may sound a little stupid but I honestly didn’t know that swim nappies existed. I used to take my daughter swimming with one of my friends and her toddler. My little girl always looked so gorgeous in her frilly polka dot swim suit, I never really thought to put a nappy on her. She was around 12 months old and I’d just assumed that babies don’t poo in swimming pools. Yeah right.
I vividly remember pulling her along in her baby float, and spotting little particles floating in the water. Then realising with complete horror that these little particles were trailing from the back of the back of the frilly polka dot swimming costume. I was mortified. She had a huge lump in her costume, and I had to get the costume off in the shower in front what felt like thousand judging eyes. There’s no wonder I have anxiety for swimming pool changing rooms…
Sudocrem in the bedroom
Any cream in their bedroom is a complete formula for disaster. But you know when they’re of a certain age and can meander between rooms while you keep the clothes/make the bed/ hunt the cat? All three of them have successfully painted themselves in sudocrem.
Having just paid for a thick pile new rug for the nursery, I learnt this lesson the hard way as sonny Jim decided to massage himself in Johnsons baby oil and then paint a body slam portrait on the very expensive rug leaving dirty footprints in the carpet and then sliding into the bathroom which happened to be tiled. He flew, go upset and cracked his head on the floor. Bad mum.
It’s fucking shit isn’t it mam?
Now I’ve never been a big one for swearing. But the occasional unmumsy rawr does escape every once so often. Currently my two year old is saying ch-esus Christ (but he may or may not have picked that up from his brother) and oh bloody hell. Not as good as my eldest who decided to announce to the entirety of the quiet cinema that she was getting cock porn, or the time my son asked me if I was ok and empathised by patting my head and saying, I know mam, it’s fucking shit isn’t it?
My mother did tell me that I should watch my language around them in the formative years.
Letting them on the fairground ride
I have never seen my purse empty so quickly as it does when we’re at the fairground. I absolutely love the above photo – look at G’s face full of delight for his first ever fairground ride. The truth of the story is he won’t come off the bloody thing until he’s 21. As soon as I undid the belt he screamed wanting another go. And then another. And then another. Until I had to bribe him with ice cream (BAD MUMMY!) to come off the damn thing. He cried solidly for ten minutes and stamped his foot refusing to move. Fail.
Sleeping ten minutes before bedtime
You’re in a rush. You’ve just finished work, picked them up from nursery on your way home and you’re rushing home to make tea and get the bedtime routine underway. As soon as you put your hand break on outside the house it’s all “we’re home now!” let’s go in and get some yum yums. Then you hear it. That little wheezy noise sound coming from the back seat. And then. OH NO. A snore!
There is no parenting fail as scary as the thought of waking a tired child up after two minutes of sleep half an hour before bedtime. You’re either going to get the tantrum from hell, or the guilt of gently lifting them and taking them to bed WITHOUT THEIR TEA! Oh the dilemma!
I’m guilty of this one. Think how many times your child has said to you “but mam, you said that I could”. And how many millions of arguments could have been avoided if you had been entirely switched on and caffeinated when your gorgeous little munchkin had asked you the question you had blatantly nodded or yupped or gave some sign of positive reinforcement. There is one way out of this however. JUST DENY EVERYTHING!
How many times recently I’ve stared at Pinterest, Insta or read a blog about adults cooking with their kids. It’s so adorable. Yes it is. Especially as they are not my kids, not trying to throw beans at each other and generally being well behaved. I think sometimes if you put my three in a confined space together, you’re asking for bloody trouble. It’s like a bomb goes off, and the psycho notch in all three kids just seems to hit 9. However, we have created some amazing little cakes and meals as a tribe.
One of the biggest ever parenting fails I’ve made is telling my middle son to pop his leftovers in the microwave. The leftovers in question were covered in tinfoil. I didn’t think to tell him to remove the tinfoil as I forgot I’d tin foiled rather than clingfilmed. Anyway three minutes later cue lightening sparks and a very pleasant burning aroma from the kitchen, and all the electricity goes out…
Definitely bad parenting. Send help. Soon.
I hope you enjoyed reading my parenting failures! Add your own below – I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this!