Where's my bad mommy award?

I let my 3 year old daughter cheat at CandyLand.
And I tricked her into washing my bras.

I fed cheese pizza to my 8 month old and kept her up until 7:45pm.
Then I treated her to a 3am nursing session because, while Josh and I would like her to sleep all night, we love our peace and quiet more.

I lost track of how many glasses of sangria I drank at a company outing. And it's only Thursday!

So it's fitting that, while costing flights and finding roomies for BlogHer 2008, it took me a few minutes to realize I won't just be leaving Josh alone with two kids during the annual Pitchfork Music Festival (he's a Pitchfork writer and would be there from 11am-11pm if he had his druthers). I'll be leaving on Baby A's first birthday.

Oh no you didn't

Two young mothers boarded the El this morning with five children between them. The oldest kid was about 8, the youngest, 1. The boys were obviously excited and a little rambunctious, but I was completely unprepared for the way one mother reacted when her son stood up briefly. Her loud string of invectives was so vile, so profane and so shockingly hurtful, you could feel the whole train tense up. It involved four letter words up to and including the big F and promised a beating should the kid dare not obey.

The fifty-something woman in front of her turned around with a disapproving, "Now hush," which I think was more than appropriate, but I was left shaking. I suspected from the family members' ages and clothes--as well as the fact that they boarded the train on Chicago's West Side--that they were likely not well off, but living in poverty has got to pale in comparison to living with a hair-trigger temper like that. My heart goes out to those kids.