ControverSunday: Mom(my) Vices

Welcome to ControverSunday on a Monday! If you want to play, write a post, get a badge from Accidents, say howdy to Perpetua and go let amoment2think know that you participated by leaving her a comment.

Hokey pokey! Turn yourself around! That’s what it’s all about!

Can I just start by saying how much I hate the word Mommy. Blech. I am a fan of the word Mom. Mom Vices. There we go. Henceforth, I will be using the word “mom” in place of “mommy.”

What vices do I think are OK for moms? Whatever gets them through the day. As long as a mom is not hurting anyone by indulging in a vice, I don’t really consider it a vice. For that matter, are there Daddy Vices? Does anyone sit around talking about what it’s OK for dads to do and not do? Probably not, because dads are not held to the same standards as moms. We seem to still be in a global phase where whatever a dad does is more than HIS dad did and therefore, WOW what a great dad. He changed a diaper! What a guy! You know what, this baby is HALF YOURS you will change at least HALF ITS DIAPERS.

For all time.

Amen.

Anyway, when I think about vices, I think cigarettes. Liquor. Drugs. I think all of those things can be dangerous if overused but have their place when used in moderation. Go for it; know your limit. If you’re addicted, think about scaling it back or quitting outright because if you’re addicted to something, you might not be the parent your kids need. But I also know that nobody’s gonna listen to me if they’re addicted to something.

I definitely wouldn’t condone the (over)use of these vices while actually engaged in the practice of minding children. It is irresponsible to mind children and be drunk (which, for most people, is not the same as having a drink) or high (not as familiar with these limits as I don’t do drugs) at the same time. And it’s not fair to smoke around them and pollute their widdle lungs.

After cigarettes, liquor and drugs, my mind defines vices as behaviors. For me, personally, internet use can be a vice. The more unpleasant my day with the kids is, the more I hide from them. In our open plan household with no doors, the only place to hide is a) in the bathroom or b) on the Internet. And that’s mainly because they cannot read.

To me, the object of a Parenting Vice, whether consumable or behavior-related, is to get a break. As I have mentioned on this blog before about four million times, minding children is very hard, relentless work. They will not give you a break no matter how you ask. So you have to take a break and make it good for yourself. I do this by giving myself 20 minutes of internet time, to escape away and see the rest of the world. I do not often use this time to visit other mom blogs or talk about parenting. I often go looking at the photo albums of childless friends on facebook. Or surfing the feminist blogosphere to see what stupid shit is being taken to task by people who have time to think about how to take stupid shit to task. Or I read the news.

Sometimes I eat chocolate.
Sometimes I sneak candy from last Halloween, which still tastes fine.

The point is not that I am a chocoholic, or a candy freak. The point is that I am doing something the children are not involved in. When you give them everything, all day, all you want is something that’s just for you. If I have to share, it doesn’t count as a vice. Thus I cannot put any foodstuff in the vice category.

My biggest vice, therefore, is that I refuse to share certain things. Which, hey, I’m an only child! So I don’t even have to feel bad about it! Quick, let’s blame my mother!

If I smoked cigarettes, I would go out for a cigarette.
If I was a pot smoker, I might smoke some pot.
When the clock says 5:30 I might have a drink.

Those things are things the children can’t share, they are just for me. Without those things, without something just for me, I would be a much unhappier person. Which is not to say that I can’t get through the day without a drink. I can. I can also go weeks without chocolate. But I can not get through the day without something that’s just for me.

To sum up: I gave you life. I’m not sharing the chocolate.