Tagged: motherhood
You’re Not Actually a Bear So Quit Calling Yourself One
I hate a lot of things. Like. A lot. Mayonnaise, Michael McDonald, abortion protests, peep toe booties, the months of July and August, pets, dirty dishes, Pretty Woman, overbearing parents. (An abbreviated list for sure.) But in that “overbearing parents” category is the “mama bear.” And to the mama bear, I say, “Ugh, shut the fuck up.” Continue reading
Am I Not Worrying Enough?
So, today on the ol’ Facespace, a friend of mine posted that she’d witnessed at Target a woman who left her 8-ish-year-old-daughter alone in the girls’ department while she went to go, presumably, take a leak. My friend posed a question essentially asking if she was paranoid, or was there a crack in the woman’s judgment? After reading the comments responding to this post, I have to ask: What the fuck is wrong with people? The majority of people commenting said something to the effect of, “No! You’re not paranoid! I never let my children out of my sight ever because bad people!” Which, okay. I don’t agree, but you do you, and you know your kids better than I do! BUT! One person responded that he thought the mother should have her “uterus revoked” for committing such a heinous act of terrible parenting, clearly on par with Joan Crawford or Michael Lohan. This poor woman who NONE OF US KNOW at Target is now being judged, like, way harsh, Tai. Clearly, I don’t think this was my friend’s intent in posing this question on Facebook. Sometimes parents like to gauge where they stand. And, for the record, I don’t think my friend is paranoid for not considering this sort of thing whilst shopping for facewash, Oxiclean, a dvd copy of Meatballs, and a new sundress. If someone doesn’t feel that his or her child is ready to be alone in Target, then that’s that. But was the woman who went pee really deserving of all this bullshit? (Hint: NO.)
“Maybe I’m Not Cut Out for This Gig” and Other Thoughts After Having a Fight with My Kid
My son is 6. I like it because he can tell me when things are wrong with him or what he wants to eat or about his favorite Avengers. I don’t like it because he can also tell fibs and ignore me and also sometimes act like a giant dick. And it’s times like those when I think, “I’m really bad at this. Like…BAD.” I’m not, say, Dina Lohan bad. But I know that he’ll be in therapy one day talking about how that one morning before school, Mom lost her shit and threw his bookbag across the room. Or dropped the f-bomb 34 times in a tirade about him not listening. Or. Or. Or. Continue reading
Am I the Only One Stoked That My Kid is Getting Older?
Babies. They’re pretty cute. They’re fat and full of rolls and they giggle and they have disproportionately large heads and big anime eyes and they smell like babies! They also can’t talk and shit their pants (generally immediately after you have changed their diaper) and don’t understand how sleeping at night is awesome and their food looks like their poop and they can’t do ANYTHING for themselves. Essentially, they’re nice to look at but the upkeep is RIDICULOUS.
Motherhood: Just…let go.
I’m going to let you in on a little secret… No mother EVER has “it” (aka: their shit) together. I know this because I am a mother and I try to keep it together, but that’s IMPOSSIBLE. I find it a lot easier to just…let go.
I accept the facts that I am never going to have clean clothes, there is always the possibility of a meltdown from someone (including myself), and I am going to need at least one vice (like beer!) to get through it all.
I thought I was pretty good at keeping things in control before I had kids. I could go out in public with clean clothes, and jewelry, and washed hair and do what I actually set out to do.
Even after I had my daughter, I did pretty well. I could hide the spit up on my shoulder with layers of cardigans and I could try to pretend that I was involved in a real conversation when I was actually just trying to maintain eye contact because I had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before.
But, now that I have two kids, I’ve decided to let go of all of that. I’m pretty sure that I ALWAYS look discheveled. And I know that I am going to have a hard time forming complete sentences and that one of my kids is not going to get what he or she wants right when he/she asks for it. And all of that is okay. I know that, eventually, all of this will get easier. And I will have “it” MORE together.
But, for now, I’m good with letting go.
Put Your Damn Pants On! 