Good mommy (and bad mommy)

Good mommy just wanted to kiss and cuddle her baby all day.

Bad mommy was looking for a boarding daycare after the third, sleep-deprived month.

Good mommy boiled and sterilized everything from baby’s food to his clothes, toys, and furniture.

Bad mommy looked listlessly at the undone housework and decided that dust and dirt would stimulate the baby’s immune system and bring it up to speed a lot quicker than an obsessively clean home.

Good mommy bought stimulating toys, read to baby before he could talk, and spent hours teaching him colors, numbers and letters.

Bad mommy propped baby in his infant seat, put an educational video on the television, and curled up around him on the floor and took a nap.

Good mommy swaddled her baby in adorable little hooded bath towels and gently rubbed his soft scalp dry as she rocked him.

Bad mommy threw out the little hooded bath towels, worried that they made her baby look like a fledgling klansman.

Good mommy kept several cabinets full of first aid supplies, cough, cold, and sniffle medicines, and bandages, creams, and ointments of all types. She always ran with baby to the doctor at the first sign of illness.

Bad mommy looked at the red patches on baby’s skin and thought, “eh, babies get rashes.” Bad mommy was proud of her ability to not panic over every little thing where her baby was concerned. She called the doctor anyway, but without any sense of urgency. The doctor told bad mommy that baby had the worst case of eczema he’d ever seen in an infant.

Good mommy took baby to the doctor when she heard him cough and followed the doctor’s instructions explicitly. She made charts and recorded medication and nebulizer times, and bundled baby off to follow-up appointments.

Bad mommy explained to the pediatrician that when her car was not well the dealer kept it until it was all better, so….

Good mommy recited classic rhymes and stories to baby in a singsong voice that entertained baby even though he couldn’t yet understand the words.

Bad mommy, just to entertain herself, made up new, funny versions of classic rhymes and stories which she recited to baby in a singsong voice that seemed to entertain him because he couldn’t yet understand the words.

Good mommy was delighted when baby began forming his first words; smiling and encouraging every “da da” and “mumum” that baby squealed out.

Bad mommy didn’t even notice that baby’s first phrase was “Don’t drop me.”

Baby grew up and became teenager. He loves good mommy, and they still read together and like to discuss what they’ve read. He’s turned into a bit of an author himself having penned a few stories of his own.

Sometimes though, when he’s bored or down, teenager asks for bad mommy just for entertainment. Good daddy (the reason baby survived bad mommy) enjoys her occasionally too.