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Mommy Confessions

Photo by: Shutterstock

My ‘true confessions’ post, stolen…er, inspired by ‘Taming Insanity.’

Dear Kids: Here are some things from your youth that I must confess:

  • I used to mix vitamins into your oatmeal
  • I lied to you when I told you that I called ahead to McDonald’s and they said they were out of fries for the day.
  • When we planted tiny individual Skittles in the backyard and the following week we dug up huge packages of them? They really did grow from the Skittles we planted, no matter what that kid across the street said.
  • Kid across the street: I still have no idea what happened to your favorite Frisbee.
  • I lied to you when I said the best movies were rated G for GOOD, and PG meant only PRETTY GOOD.
  • When I told you that soy ice cream is just as deliciously creamy as Ice Cream Ice Cream, and you can’t even tell the difference? Wrong. Big difference. HUGE.
  • Root beer really only comes in one color: brown. The yellow stuff your dad drinks isn’t root beer.
  • Remember in the winter when it got dark out earlier, and it seemed to you like bed time came right after supper? It did. (6:00, 8:00 – what are a couple of hours anyway?)
  • When you’d ask me to go fast on the freeway and I’d turn all the fans in the car to max – those weren’t really our van’s turbo engines.
  • The wrinkles on my face aren’t because I didn’t drink all my milk as a kid.
  • Your hermit crabs didn’t run away to find a mate.
  • Your fish didn’t jump into the sink to find a mate.
  • Your turtle didn’t crawl down the bathtub drain to find a mate.
  • Your frog didn’t hop out the patio door to find a mate.
  • I didn’t read the ‘How To Care For Your Pet’ books for ALL your animals.
  • The boy in ‘The Giving Tree’ really is nice to his mother. I have no idea which edition everyone else was reading to their kids.

There it is, my beautiful children, the ugly truth: warts and all. I stand fully confessed before you, no more lies.

I am so glad I was able to get this off my chest tonight. Let’s start over with a clean slate, and sleep the deep sleep of a clear conscience.

Hurry upstairs and get to bed. Now that you’re older, I read somewhere that you need even more sleep. Like, 14 hours minimum is recommended for ages ten through eleven.


Confession is good for the soul. Anything you would like to share?

Alexandra writes of life as the mother of three boys on her personal blog, Good Day, Regular People.

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