Tagged: parent

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

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Parenting Through the Shit Spots (*Not about potty training)

As you may or may not have noticed, I’ve been quiet for awhile. We’ve had some major upheavals in our home that…I was not exactly expecting even though I was the one who had to make the call. Any of you who know me can surmise what this was, and for those who don’t, the details of what happened are not exactly relevant to the point of this post.

I’ve mentioned before how I don’t think parents, and moms especially, put themselves first, that they let their kid rule the roost and lose their identity as actual people and don’t exist outside of being “Junior’s Mom.” To be fair, it’s kind of our job to think of our kids before anything else. This was ultimately what led to me making the decision I didn’t want to make. I had to put my son in front of me. But now…now I need to parent through a lot of feelings. Like, shitty feelings. Depress-y feelings. Angry feelings. All them shits. And I need to do it in a way that my son won’t feel the effects forever and take it out on some poor lady in the future. I have to put myself first. So here is what I’m doing to maintain balance of Kiddo and me and our home. Continue reading

A Manifesto Of Sorts

I used to roll my eyes when friends complained about “mommy blogs”.  “Why do you care what some twat said about raising kids? You’re doing a good job; just don’t read her stuff anymore.” I didn’t understand why it was such a big freaking deal. I mean, I didn’t go around reading sites praising George W. Bush.  That’s how the internet is, you pick and choose and everyone else can go to hell.  Or wherever.

Then, this really strange thing happened.  I started dating a single father. And then I fell in love like a dummy.  Now we live together and I’m suddenly a mom-type.  So I spend a lot of time online, researching and finding new things to try out with them.  And that’s when I found out how hideous the mommy blogs really can be. All of the sudden, I was the one feeling judged for working full time. For allowing chemical-filled cleaning sprays into our home. I was the horrible parent that used food as a reward. I let them watch tv all day, and play video games, and have pizza rolls for dinner on the regs. And I curse! Sometimes in front of the boys, sometimes as I yell at them to PUT SOME DAMN PANTS ON.

As much as I tried to take my own (dismissive, bitchy) advice of just don’t look at it, that’s really difficult. Because everywhere you turn there’s some stay at home mom with a lot more time, money, and patience making me feel like Asshole of the Year. Which is BULLSHIT because I’m a great parent. Even if I drink and smoke and curse and eat fast food, I still love those boys with all of me and they know it. We have a home filled with laughter and joy and craziness, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. (At least not permanently, but if someone wanted to give me an all-inclusive week to a resort all alone, I’d so do it.)

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