So, most of us have been following the riveting debate about whether moms are allowed to have a cocktail or a glass of wine while interacting with their children and other moms. The Today show did a piece that featured both Stefanie from Baby on Bored and Melissa from Suburban Bliss. I thought the videotaped piece with Stefanie was pretty fair, but I do agree that the live piece with Melissa was a little “sacrificial lambish.” I mean, who can compete with some doctor from Columbia who is also a mom of four (I think). Of course, no one should get drunk around their kids. And yes, women should find other ways to relax. And no, we wouldn’t want our babysitters drinking. (But can I add to this part of the debate… I am the child’s mother and I have their best interests in mind at all times. And I am never sure whether a babysitter does. I hope, but I can’t be sure. So, if I had a babysitter who I trusted implicitly like my sister or my mother — would I care if they had a glass of wine while taking care of my child? No. Not in the least. Some college kid that I don’t know in the least? Yes, I would care.)

It seems like this is not only a judgement of mothers, but also just of the fact that a person consumes alcohol. Some people don’t agree with that. I do. In my life, I like to relax with a glass of wine. If you don’t, fine. Move forward in life and leave me alone. Beyond, no one is doing a feature on men who consume a beer with their friends while their kids throw a football around the backyard. And even more beyond, it seems that our attempts to “professionalize” motherhood (and rightly so, it is the hardest job one may ever undertake) have come back to haunt us because now everyone judges our every move along this continuum of professionalism and not realism. As a mother, I am not always a robot doing a job. I am an imperfect being, who is also a human — and as such gets stressed, worried, and comes undone on many a late afternoon after taking care of young kids all day. So, yes, in my life I have a glass of wine around my kids. And you know what, and maybe sadly so, sometimes it makes me a better mother at 5:00 PM. I don’t yell as much. I have more patience. I laugh more. Those are good things sometimes.

Seriously, I don’t get drunk around my kids and drop them off at Chucky Cheese. OK? So, beyond that? Leave me alone and end the debate. But in the spirit of talking about the myriad of ways mothers are setting poor examples for their children, I thought I would go first and list the ways in which I am not perfect for my kids. Here you go. Get the nails out, cut the wood for my stake, and schedule my kid’s first therapy sessions. But really, if you want me to be really judgmental, I am going to bet my kids end up in therapy less than yours. So there.

The Ways In Which I Am Not Perfect, And Thus Setting a Poor Example for My Children

1. I have a drink of alcohol (to which I am legally allowed) around my children. (Result: My children will abuse alcohol and will not know how to have fun without it — much like the rest of my family and friends.)

2. I sometimes throw away recycleable goods. And sometimes I collect all the plastic grocery bags with the best intentions of taking them back to the grocery store and leave them in the back of my car for six weeks. And then I throw them away. (Result: My children will think Al Gore is an idiot who should go back into his “lock box” and they will pollute the environment for the fun of it.)

3. I sometimes eat too much. And sometimes when we bake cookies, I eat like four or five cookies and make myself feel like I might vomit. (Result: My children will think food is their only friend and will eat to make the pain of their awful childhood go away.)

4. I sometimes see people in the grocery store and look intently at the ingredients of the “Flax Power Waffles” until they pass and I am safe to not have to speak to them. (Result: My children will be anti-social freaks and will look at their shoes for most of their adult lives.)

5. I hate cleaning my house and am torn between cleaning because I am disgusted by my own filth, and giving up and living like the people who are discovered with 47 cats and back issues of Tiger Beat piled up on the floor until they cannot see the windows anymore. (Result: My children will live in filth and have no appreciation for a freshly steam cleaned tile floor.)

6. I used to like to watch TV and I allow them to consume “screen media” when I need a break. (Result: My children will be unable to read, think, or speak and will simply stare at a screen for the rest of their sad, dark lives.)

7. I secretly don’t really like to do art projects or play Polly Pockets. (Result: My children will realize their entire childhoods were based on a lie and will discover that I was, in fact, a human being with interests and desires of my own.)

8. I pretend to like some fish, asparagus, yogurt, and goat cheese and in all reality, many times might just prefer to have Chicken McNuggets. (Result: My children will feel deprived because I made them eat all this healthy food and at one point, will revolt and eat nothing but spaghettios — which I secretly enjoy quite a lot).

9. Once in a while, I don’t have the energy to brush my teeth before bed. And sometimes I “forget” to brush my children’s teeth before bed because I don’t have the energy to deal with my daughter gagging on the toothpaste and refusing to actually brush any of her teeth. (Result: Major dental problems, of course.)

10. I like to stay in my pajamas all day if possible and very rarely feel the need to go do much of anything on the weekend. (Result: My children will be just like that.)

So as you can see, my kids are probably screwed despite the fact that they are well-adjusted, confident, loving, funny, healthy, social, smart beings who get out of the house a lot, who have never had whiskey rubbed on their gums, and have no cavities. But, that glass of wine? That’s sending their future right down the toilet.