Oh, the park. How I love thee, and your rolling green hills. Your trees, the only survivors of the unstoppable urban sprawl, provide shade from the hot afternoon, post-nap sun (or the drizzle if you live in the Pac NW). Your sandpit, with it’s lot of broken, discarded, plastic toys, is one of few places I can sit still while Baby 1.0 happily digs, piles and eats sand like she is one of those giant angry worms from Tremors. Your swings bring back the memories of the only way we could get our precious daughter to sleep for the first 7 months of her life. And your constant parade of playmates provide a welcome bit of socialization from what can otherwise be a bit of a lonely existence. But it’s not all sunshine and sidewalk chalk rainbows. Every once in a while, someone comes along and sullies the experience. So…

Well hello, Lovelies!

Let me start by saying welcome, and thank you for joining me in my first ever “Bad Mothers Club” meeting! My name is Emily, and according to strangers on the internet, I’m a bad mother (amongst many other less than desirable things). See, a few weeks ago I wrote a post about Why I’m Never Getting My Daughter A Pony, and wouldn’t you know it, it awarded me membership to the club with gusto (awesome comments can be read here)!

Shortly after receiving my membership notification, via multiple comments along the lines of my personal favorite, “You’re a blithering IDIOT!!!”, and of course the old stand-by, “You shouldn’t be a mother,” I came across another poor fellow mother and blogger who was ripped a number of new assholes from hundreds of angry mothers who didn’t agree with her message. If you’re wondering what her message…