I have to admit, I’m not perfect. There, I said it.

I make parenting mistakes all the time. I snap too quickly. I give in too easily. I do housework to avoid playing. Somedays the kiddo doesn’t even see a veggie in a given day.

I’m not perfect.

Yet sometimes certain parenting mistakes weigh more heavily than others. For whatever reason, they hit a little deeper. They are heavy on the guilt. They replay over and over in my head, just to torture. Or teach. Sometimes I’m not sure which.

This is one of those mistakes.

The kiddo recently started a new craft class. It’s 45 minutes long and parents have the option to stay or to leave. The class is really for the kids, it’s not a parent-child activity. So, once the kids were settled in, my friends and I opted to leave.

The very first day of class the kiddo was hesitant about going. I knew that there was no way I could plop him down and leave. I’d have to wait until he was comfortable, busy and forgot that I was even there. Then I could sneak my way out. Brilliant, right?

Of course 5 minutes into the class I had to pee. Pregnant-lady pee. As in if I don’t go right now, I’m going to pee my pants. That isn’t the kind of impression I want to leave on the teachers on the first day.

There was no way that I could sneak out. It was too soon. So I gently and quietly explained to the kiddo that I needed to go potty and that I would be right back. He resisted and tried to follow.

I again explained that I would come right back to check on him. He started to get teary eyed and followed me to the door.

In a soothing and calming voice I promised that I would return, I just needed to go potty, and no he couldn’t come. He could stay and stamp instead {way more fun than going potty}! Which resulted in the beginning of a melt down.

In my gut, I freaked. I would do anything to avoid him having a meltdown in front of the teachers, kids and other mothers. I was desperate. And yet I couldn’t think of any good reason to encourage the kiddo to stay. I had already used everything in my arsenal.

So instead, I threatened. I told him in my most serious and hushed voice that if he followed me to the bathroom, I would take away his most-favorite, best-est toy for the rest of the day. The beloved Elmo.

The kiddo paused. He evaluated the situation. He choose to stay in the room. My bladder sighed in relief as I made my way to the bathroom, just a few steps away. No whimpers followed me. No cries for “momma”. No little feet echoing on the floor as they ran to me.

Two minutes later, I returned to the room. I peaked in the door. The kiddo was busily, and dare I say happily, stamping to his hearts content. I made eye contact with the teachers so they knew that I had returned. They smiled. I stood in the doorway for a minute or two, and the kiddo never noticed that I had returned.

And then, I left.

I spent the remainder of the class chatting with my mommy friends. All of us wishing that we had brought some coffee and snacks along. It was wonderful, adult conversation. No little voices interrupting. It was 20 minutes of adult time, where we mostly discussed our kids. Go figure.

After class I walked in to find a happy little boy, playing with his best girlfriend, the only other friend who he allows to be Buzz Lightyear with him {even Hubs and I have had that privileged revoked}. The teachers said that he did well the rest of the class. He only stood by the door for a minute after I left {for the bathroom} and then joined the rest of the class.

He did fine without me.

Relief and disappointment flooded over me.

This was the first class the kiddo has taken without me. The first one where I wasn’t guiding him and helping him. The first one that he did on his own. And he did it wonderfully.

But I was disappointed in myself. Because in my eyes I made two mistakes that morning.

I threatened when I should have encouraged. Taking something away is a punishment, something that should be reserved for naughty behavior. Something to teach them about actions and consequences. Instead, I used punishment as a way to get the kiddo to do something fun. Rather than rewarding him for listening or offering some incentive for staying, I threatened to take away something that he loved. Big, fat mommy fail.

But the worst of it, is that I felt, and still feel, like I abandoned him. I promised to come back after I went potty, and I did. I DID. But the kiddo doesn’t know that. He didn’t see me return. He was too involved in the art project. He was too busy having fun. And there was no way that I was going to interrupt that. Partially because I didn’t want to disrupt his fun, but also, selfishly, because I knew that if he saw me, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I knew that if he saw me, he’d bury his head in my belly and beg me to sit. So I took the opportunity and I left.

I left my kiddo, in the good and capable hands of his teachers, to go be with my friends. I picked myself over him. I promised and as far as he knows, I didn’t keep my promise. And that hurts.

If I was in the situation all over again, I can confidently say that I would do at least one thing differently. I’d offer rewards instead of making threats in a similar situation. Lesson learned, and I’ll carry it with me for next time. There’s always a next time.

But will I just leave again, given the opportunity? Even when I promised that I’d return? Or would I choose the less selfish route and spend the time with the kiddo. Just to follow through with my promise. I don’t know…I don’t know. But given how heavy this is sitting on my heart, I like to think that I’d stay. That I’d make sure he knew that I kept my promise. And hope that next week, next class, he’ll be comfortable enough to stay without me being there.

What parenting mistakes have you made? Do they hang in your heart or do you take away the lesson and move on?

This post is proudly linked up with imperfect prose.

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Tagged as: parenting fails, parenting mistakes