Sunday was my first full 9 hours with the kids on my own, basically since Squeaky was born. Needless to say, it was a Bad Parenting Day for me.

Every single day I’ve been a mom I’ve had Bad Parenting Moments sprinkled throughout. Times where I wasn’t patient with Hugga for spilling her juice, times where I gave in to whining or tantrums, times where I let something slide or gave her a treat just because I was too tired to explain to her why whatever she was doing wasn’t okay. Every parent has them and any parent who tells you they don’t is a liar.

Occasionally, the Bad Parenting Moments will take up most of the day. I’m usually pretty aware of when this happens and I try to learn from them and use them as reminders to have more patience, and I also try to remind myself that learning to parent is an every day process and that I have gotten better and will continue to get better. But I always feel awful after Bad Parenting Days.

Yesterday was trying. Hugga’s really great with her little sister, but I think I constantly underestimate how hard this must be for her. She’s going through the normal 4-year-old things — wanting to be more independent, figuring out how to explain her emotions, and also dealing with the inherited Jones temperament. But she’s also having to deal with this new person in her family who’s super-needy and sucks all of Mommy and Daddy’s attention and energy away. She’s been very loving toward her sister, but God, it must be really shitty too.

I can tell because Hugga’s been much more defiant than usual, often doing things I’ve just told her NOT to do. On the flip, sometimes she asks for something really heartbreakingly simple, like snuggling in bed or watching a movie on the couch together. I can also tell because I feel like I spent all day yelling at her and restricting her and telling her be more quiet or not do stuff. And while I know some of those boundaries are legitimate, I feel awful because I know at some points in the day, I did what I did simply because I didn’t feel like doing anything else. I could’ve been more patient, or I could’ve found a better solution.

And I know I just spent a paragraph telling you how much of a bitch I can be to my family, but I tend to backpedal and get spineless on boundaries a lot, especially since the parenting styles du jour tend to favor no punishments and simply making your kids “think about what they’ve done,” and then I’ll see some parent completely maintain their cool and speak in a calm voice when their kid is wildin the fuck out at Target, and all these things make me feel all guilty for being such a yelly hard-ass.

Then Huz reminds me that we’re not raising Hugga and Squeaky to be rude, entitled assholes, then some random old lady at Rubio’s will comment on what a great, well-behaved kid Hugga is, and I’ll feel just a teeny bit better about how we’re doing as parents.

ALL THIS IS TO SAY I never know when the hell I’m doing the right thing! And even though I’m over being guilty for spending time on myself or working or whatever they say all that Mommy Wars bullshit is about, I still feel guilty about setting boundaries for my kids and I never know how much is overkill. It never really goes away, but it does get better with time (or I’m sure we all find something new to beat ourselves up over).