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Posted Monday, February 7, 2011 by Jackie Morgan MacDougall

"You're a mean, mean girl," my 5-year old son blurted out as he sulked at the breakfast table. In almost seven years of parenting, that was the first time a personal insult had been hurled in my direction.

It was a bittersweet moment. Isn't having your character assassinated by a ticked off preschooler a rite of parenting passage? It was as if the flood gates had suddenly been opened, allowing me to peek into a future filled with random "mean mom" accusations... a few "I hate yous"... and maybe even a high-pitched "I never asked to be born!" His words were so fascinating to me, introducing me to a whole new land of uncharted territory, that I couldn't even feel angry.

Plus, he wasn't entirely wrong.

Let me rewind a bit. It all started the night before at dinner. As you may have read before, I live among picky eaters, including my husband. But over a year ago,  I started to chisel away at that nutritionally-limited mold and "Operation Eat Your Veggies" was born. A huge success with my 6-year old, OEYV has turned my first grader into a well-balanced eater, something I never, ever thought would be possible. Now, as if right on schedule, his brother -- 16 months younger -- has discovered that he actually has a bit of control when it comes to what he chooses to eat and not eat. I mean, I can't physically shove the food down his throat, now can I?

Silly, silly boy.

During this particular meal, my son had decided he wouldn't, in fact, be eating his vegetables, opting to remain hungry over giving into my demands of proper nourishment.

An hour later, he and his veggies remained at the table. Without emotion, I cleared the table and sent him on his way.

The next morning, my sweet, affectionate boy came skipping down for breakfast.

"Good morning, Mo..."

He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the foil-covered plate being pulled from the refrigerator.

"Hot or cold?" I asked.

And that's when it happened, right there in my kitchen, before my first cup of coffee had even kicked in.

"You're a mean, mean girl."

His words struck me and reverberated through my body, kind of like how it feels to unexpectedly hit your funny bone. But I wasn't about to let him know that.

"Hot or cold?" I repeated.

I'll spare you the details of that morning, but I will say that it did end in victory -- at least for me. My son not only arrived at preschool with a belly full of vegetables, but a new word to add to his growing vocabulary -- futile.

Being a "mean" mom felt way too good. Is that wrong?

Not according to Jana Matthews, whose blog "The Meanest Mom" journals her experiences as a mean mom of four. Like me, she uses sarcasm with a side of twisted humor in parenting her kids. Her stories of fruit-filled lunchboxes and holy haircuts, and the comments that follow, are blogging proof that mean moms are everywhere.

"I'm proud to say I am a mean mom," Catherine, a mother of three, recently revealed. "It is my job to raise them to be happy, respectful self-reliant adults. I hate when parents want to be their kids' "friend". Friends come and go, but mean or nice, a mom will be there no matter what and they need to know that." Analiza agrees. "Responsible and good adults are rooted from early training...at least that's what I hope for."

But is there a line between what kids perceive as mean and what's actually mean?

"Mean" Moms or Good Moms? You be the judge.

 "Being the only girl in a house full of boys (3 sons, a husband, and a dog named Lucky), I got fed up of having to clean up after their "mis-targets" in the toilet and surrounding areas. So I'm having them clean it up themselves RIGHT NOW! They're gagging but I've ran out of sympathy - they need to learn right??"

"My dad's wife made my brother and I eat brussels sprouts out of the disposal, after she caught me throwing them down the drain. My brother hated to eat them so I thought I would help get rid of them. Not so much!"

Let's see, I tell them "no" multiple times a day. Usually to requests for candy before dinner, or to stay up late because they're not tired. Oh! And for telling them they can't sleep in my room, and for not flushing the toilet for them.

Our dishwasher was acting up, so we thought 'Hey, we have 2 dishwashers in the house (our 11- and 14-year-old boys), so let's use them! Our boys have been washing the dishes every night now for probably a year. My mom ran a load of "vinegar" through the dishwasher and said it was all fixed, the boys don't need to do the dishes anymore. I said I knew the dishwasher wasn't broken and well, now the boys know it, too, but, we are still making them do dishes, because they need to learn how to do that...right!! I'm so mean & I ♥ it! They do their own laundry, too, but not by hand, I'm not that mean.

I'm "mean" when I turn off the TV and tell my three year old she is done for the day and we have to play with toys now. She gives me a gasp, like how could I???


I took all of their toy bins when I had finally had enough, EVERY ONE OF THEM and put them stacked in the garage. They earned them back over the course of 4 weeks for good behavior and sharing. However, it took them two weeks of no toys/no fighting to earn one bin back. In the meantime, they could read, play board games, and get creative. It was hard on all of us but it changed the tone of our household for the better.

I'm really mean because my daughter can't walk to her friend's house 3 blocks away by herself and she is 11.

"I sent my daughter (3 1/2) to school in her pajamas with her hair unbrushed because she refused to get ready. I also called the school to let them know she was not allowed to play on the playground because she was not dressed appropriately."

"My kid's preschool says we should send the kid to school in their pajamas or underwear if they refuse to get dressed (sending their clothes with them). My almost 3 yr old daughter walked in in only her underpants this past Fall. They will learn best from those experiences is their philosophy.

Kim says, "I don't think I am a mean mom. I am a parent who appropriately disciplines her child when he needs it, that includes the constant reminders of what to do and not to do, as well as enforcing the consequences for misbehaving. He might have thought I was "mean" but I have a good kid on my hands today, and the work we put into together has certainly paid off."

But me? I'll take the label. Because if I can help my little ones grow into strong, healthy, hard-working, responsible adults, ultimately, it's all worth it.

But you better watch your back, kids. Because, one day, you just might have children of your own and this mean mom will get her ultimate revenge.

Bwuahahahaha.


Jackie Morgan MacDougall is a TV-executive turned parenting blogger who lives a crazy life with her husband and three small kids. Her dreams of climbing the corporate ladder have been replaced by the dream of one day having a nap. You can find more of her musings at The Silver Whining.

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