A Mom Bully Kicked My Butt!

Allistair Overeem

Women scare the ever-loving crap out of me.

I’d rather go five rounds in the cage with UFC fighter Allistair Overeem than be subjected to one cup of coffee with a passive-aggressive mom who doesn’t like the food I gave her kid on a play date.

I really pissed a mom off last year  

(We’ll call her Queen Bully. I get to cuz this is my blog). Apparently, my daughter, Clare, told her daughter Harper (a pseudonym) a Stranger Danger story from Queen Bully’s childhood.

This is the phone call I received:


“Hi, Queen Bully! How are you?”

“Did you tell Clare my childhood Stranger Danger story?”

Her voice dripped the proverbial acid.

If I were of the male species, my testicles would’ve retracted into my body and hidden trembling behind my kidneys.

“No, no, of course I didn’t tell her that. I would never tell her that.”

Here’s the thing, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to tell Clare that. Or I didn’t remember.

Also, I didn’t see what was such a big deal. Queen Bully’s childhood Stranger Danger story would’ve been a great one to tell our kids in order to teach them how to stay safe.

Our kids are nine-years old and need some skills as they get more freedom and independence. Having said that, I didn’t recall saying anything to Clare until …

Me: “Clare honey, where did you hear Queen Bully’s childhood Stranger Danger story? Were you eavesdropping when she and I were talking last week?”

Clare: “No Mom, you told me.”

Me: “I …. told you?”

Clare:  “Yeah, you know, you wanted me to learn about Stranger Danger and all of that.”

Damn my big mouth! I was in trouble.

Queen Bully outweighs me by 20 lbs. and it’s 20 lbs. of rock hard muscle. Her Eric Heiden thighs could snap me like a twig. I should mention she’s also funny and beautiful, which made me doubt my own credibility in this situation.

I toyed briefly with the idea of lying and saying Clare admitted she eavesdropped, the little minx.

How much damage could Queen Bully inflict on my kid?

A volcanic storm of outrage poured upon my child might better prepare her for a life as a movie robotics engineer for James Cameron.

So I did what any mother would do. I called Queen Bully up and told her … it was all my fault.

I confessed I must’ve blabbed and that I was really sorry.

That discretion wasn’t my long suit.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. Perhaps for her to say, “Hey, I get it. You’re not good at keeping a secret. I really wish you hadn’t done it and unfortunately, I won’t be able to trust you with any more personal stories.”

Painful, yes, but bearable.

Instead, what I got was a tongue shellacking usually reserved for a schnauzer who’s taken a giant crap right in the middle of an expensive Persian rug that the angry person has stepped in.

The conversation was, in word, castrating.

I had that sick feeling I’d had in the 4th grade when Chris Hedges and Sheri Kaufman told me they were going to kick my ass after school.

The pounding heart, blood racing through my veins as a bolus of semi-digested food makes its way back up the esophagus, sweaty palms and feet, twitchy eyes and the shame that I’m a-sceered, that I’m a yellow-belly sap-sucker.

I got off the phone and made the decision our friendship was over.

Whether I was right or wrong, I’m too old to have people in my life who talk like that to me. But the plot thickens …

When I arrived at school the next morning with Clare in tow, Queen Bully’s daughter ran up to Clare and whispered something in her ear that made Clare turn sheet white. What the what?

Clare told me Queen Bully wanted to talk to her during recess (QB volunteers at our school).

Clare’s lip trembled. Tears sprang to her eyes and suddenly I wasn’t that little girl in the 4th grade afraid of getting her ass kicked after school. My daughter was that girl.

I saw red.

What ensued was a Text Confrontation between Queen Bully and me. Yes, you heard me right – I bravely took to my text.

I manipulated my iphone like the finest fencing foil, parry, thrust, defend. I told her that I understood she was angry at me, but she wasn’t to take it out on Clare. Especially not at school where she’s an authority figure.

She told me she would do as she pleased.

I quickly returned to school, found Clare and told her she didn’t have to go talk to Queen Bully at recess, that I would handle it.

I called the school principal, off the record, and explained the situation and my fault in it. I asked her to speak with Queen Bully and explain that these things had to be settled outside of school.

Time passed. Tempers died down. Polite distance was achieved.

Our daughters are still friends, but only at school. We don’t interact after school hours.

The moms I’m friends with are kind to me and my kids. Some of us have different parenting styles and there’s a certain amount of judging each other behind each other’s backs.

But the overall glue to our friendships is our unequivocal support of one another.

Recently, when I had a lump in my breast, I asked one mom to pick my kids up from school while I had it checked out (a benign cyst – so sexy).

Before I knew it, five mothers were calling to say they could help, what did I need?

The majority of moms are amazing, loving tigresses, but there are those few who, like Medusa’s head, wreak havoc.

I’d love to hear your mom bully stories and how you survived them?

29 thoughts on “A Mom Bully Kicked My Butt!”

  1. I’ve seen you, tall, blond, beautiful, smart, snarky – you scared ME. 🙂 Funny to think how different we appear on the outside versus our own self-perception.

    I know this post is about a Mean Mom but I’ve been meaning to tell you that, so there it is.

  2. OH. MY. GOD. If it wasn’t for the fact that my own personal Los Angeles Bully is childless (and while it is tacky to say so, thank god for that), I would think we knew somebody in common. Who the hell talks to a grown woman that way? What grown woman bullies a CHILD? She sounds like a malignant narcissist to me. (And having lived in LA for a long time before decamping to France, that is the only Internet diagnosis I feel qualified to make.)

    Sorry for the rant. You wouldn’t believe the awful memories this amazing post dredged up.

    1. Hi Jadzia — first of all, you’re in France??? I am so jealous. Eat some French croissants por moi. I love that phrase “Malignant Narcissist.” Is that a real condition? I have to Google that.

      1. Hi, Shannon — it’s not in the DSM but it is in Wikipedia! So that’s good, right?

        France is not as glamorous as it sounds–we’re nowhere near Paris. But as soon as my involvement with Dr. Dukan is concluded I will certainly be having a croissant or two! My girl-crush on our local boulangere may end up being my diet downfall.

        1. I know they say French women are skinnier than us, but if I lived in France I’d have to wear a Hannibal Lecter mask in order not to cheese and carb myself into an early grave.

  3. Yikes. I love that your mama bear came out when your daughter was threatened. Sorry you have to deal with this mom until your kids are out of this school! I don’t think I have any mom bully stories…yet.

    1. Hi Kim — Fortunately she doesn’t volunteer anymore and her child is just fine so the chaos factor has dialed down. But I’m tellin’ ya. Yikes.

  4. So I had a mom that lived down the street from us call my daughter one day to quiz her about her own daughter. Is she doing drugs, is she having sex, blah blah blah, she doesn’t talk to me anymore.

    My daughter thinking she is concerned like my mom would be tells her stuff. Then mommy runs to her daughter and tells her my kids told her everything. Then the offending child has my daughter tripped at school. (keep in mind these girls are sophomores in high school)

    I call the mom and say WTF you put my kids on the spot and used her and NOW she is suffering for it! She swears to me she didn’t tell, but please the stories that came out after were too convienent. She is no better than the cackling hens in high school only she is 50! Lady you got problems.

    We no longer associate with them in the neighborhood, and the girls avoid each other at school. Of course now that girl calls my daughter a whore, devil worshipper, and everything else she can come up with.

    Don’t worry this child also was given a car that no child should drive too much power and a soft top, and I know she drives like a fool. I don’t want her hurt, but a good taste of the real world will be nice to see.

    1. Hi Sweet Darlin’ — I am not looking forward to middle school and high school because I suspect things get even trickier. Sounds like your daughter got sand bagged.

  5. Wow! I never knew of a parent to threaten other people’s children. That’s scary on so many levels. Good thing you got it resolved.

  6. Ew, I don’t like QB! Wanting to talk to your little baby a recess!? Totally out of line.

    Mom bullies are the worst. I’ve found my experiences at the park I get about 50% great experiences and 50% horrific ones. Not the best odds, but at least there is no grey area.

    If I were you and you got caught with another mean mommy war I would threaten to steal their husbands …That would back them off in a New York minute. It’s playing dirty, but there is no rules of war when it comes to this kind of duel.

    Hear that moms? Shannon will steal your husbands and keep them as pets if you are not nice to her! You have been warned.

    1. Jamie I love your faith in me as a siren! This lady was a bit smitten with my hubby. But I trust him so much I was just flattered.

  7. The fact that a grown woman acts like this…a grown woman with children? UGH! But so glad you stepped up for your daughter….fortunately I don’t have any mean mom stories….yet…

  8. Ugh. Mom bullies suck big green weenies. I’m a learning specialist/student advocate, so I have seen my share of them in schools. But with my amazonian proportions and stern librarian looks, I can usually send them scurrying back to their hidey holes with one stare down.

    Though, I’ve found it’s much harder when your own parenting/situation is called into question.

    We made a choice, as a family, to live in a 900 sq.ft.2 bedroom apartment with our three kids, so that our children would go to the best schools in the state. Though my oldest in only 3, a mom bully at Auburn’s gymnastics schools, decided to point out our lack of affluence to my preschooler. Her daughter was having her 4th birthday party and was handing out elaborate invitations (wrapped like presents) to all the little kids in the class. When mom bully’s kid got to Auburn, mom bully said(in a “whisper” that no one missed), “No, Carolina, don’t waste one on her, they won’t be able to afford it.”

    I saw red. I hugged my confused preschooler, fixed mom bully in my laser beams and said, “that’s ok, baby, sometimes a pretty wrapping paper doesn’t hold a nice surprise. Sometimes, it just barely covers up the ugliness underneath.”

    1. Oh Amber, touche! I always think of my comebacks three days after the fact. All the things I wish I would’ve said in the moment.

  9. I’ve never been bullied by another mom. I need to get out more.

    My bowels get all watery at the thought of what you went through. I don’t handle conflict well, so I only hope I’d handle it as well as you did.

  10. A mom in my neighborhood passed my blog on to a ton of people. neighbors, friends, co-workers, OH she thought I was HILARIOUS.

    Our kids would play together, and we would chat, and I started to get the sense that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t very nice. Now, I’m not nice. I don’t play with others. But she would say things like, “I can really hold a grudge” and I’d think, well, okay, thanks for sharing.

    I guess she read a post I wrote about my oldest, and how when my hubby had surgery, people brought us food. And one dish my kids didn’t like, particularly my oldest, and I told my kid to eat it, because food that other people make is always much better and basically my kid ate another bite and then threw up all over the place, right in the middle of my speech about kindness and food and gratefulness- bleeeech.

    A few months later, I tried to find a box of clothes in my attic for my middle child and could not figure out why I was missing all of the 5T clothes. I write something called Friday Fifteen and some days I don’t have time to edit. Lesson learned. I tossed in there that I was missing the 5ts, thought maybe i lent them to someone, but would have thought that since i had 2 more kids, I would have gotten them back. Then I wrote, “guess I was wrong.”

    Of COURSE looking back I realized that sounded way snarky and bitchy. And Obviously I did not know the rules or etiquette about clothes sharing swapping whatever. So I get home to find two comments from her on the blog- one slamming me for the comment, another one then telling me I’m an ungrateful B for never properly thanking her for the dish she brought over- the one my oldest vomitted up and I wrote about.

    I immediately texted her and apologized, and edited the blog, but left her comments, and apologized more in the comments section.

    Then i got a text that said, “Look on your front porch.”

    (did you just pee a little? I did)

    I hid the kids upstairs and peeked out the front door and- NO LIE- I saw a pile of clothes. A three foot high pile of clothes. Just random clothes. She had to make several trips, not in garbage bags, just thrown in a pile.

    And- man that would have the best revenge moment EVER for her except- none of them were the clothes I loaned her.

    I resisted the urge to take a picture and blog about it, and instead folded everything up neatly, put it in two garbage bags, walked them to her house, rang the door bell, and ran like hell. We have not spoken since. It was over a year ago.

    She does not allow her kid to play with my kids. She will not acknowledge, or thank, my oldest daughter if she kindly walks their little girl home from the bus stop.

    And now her house is up for sale so I’m doing the happy dance. BUT STILL. “look on your front porch?” batshit crazy bully.

  11. What in the world??

    Let’s start our own commune: the nice people’s commune.

    LOVE your stories, miss coming here.

    Why doesn’t your blog feed work for me??


  12. What in the world??

    Let’s start our own commune: the nice people’s commune.

    LOVE your stories, miss coming here.

    Why doesn’t your blog feed work for me??

    I DO LOVE YOUR WRITING. It’s as fine as you are.

  13. What in the world??

    Let’s start our own commune: the nice people’s commune.

    LOVE your stories, miss coming here.

    Why doesn’t your blog feed work for me??

    I DO LOVE YOUR WRITING. It’s as fine as you are.

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