Then I felt bad about my parenting skills.
Then I scrolled past another article about how tomatoes are being genetically modified and if you don't feed your kids the organic kind your dooming them to a life of drug use and homelessness....or some shit.
Then I realized that people are actually reading this and thinking that they need to do this shit to be good parents...and others are actually turning their noses up at those of us that don't make homemade gluten free, sugar-free, dye-free bread.
Then I was offended
....then I felt stupid for actually being offended by the judgement of people who spend whole hours finding ways to sneak Kale into their kids food. (Then I made a mental note to write a blog and bitch and got my ass back to work)
|These kids have literally NEVER had Kale|
I was gonna start this blog with "since when did everyone have the right to judge everyone else".
But today happened.... Maybe it's my shitty day or maybe it's the time I had to toss this whole blog idea around in my head.
Whatever the reason I've now decided that that opening line is total bullshit. Since never. No one really ever has the right or authority to judge anyone else....well maybe said judge-ee's shrink, but that's it.
That's beside the point. Since when has that ever stopped anyone before? Everyone's always judged everyone else- it makes the world go round. It's why I paint my stupid ugly toenails even though no fucking color on earth will camouflage my long ass second alien toes.
What's new-ish is the self proclaimed right to judge whole groups of mothers based on the screen time and fucking kale consumption. (Btw...screen time is my mommy Xanax and shitty toddler murder prevention and kale is just fucking gross. I don't care what you dump on it or how you blend it- that shit is nasty! Just admit it - the rest of us already know it)
Even worse is the ability to post that shit on an open forum like you have some degree or some other quality that should make people stop and take notice of your bullshit. (Pretty much what I'm doing here...)
But that's not what really got me today. Crunchy Peggy in her sweat-stained Birkenstocks can blab all she wants about how she's superior because she was able to hide her kids kale by wrapping it in tofu and slathering it in coconut oil.
What I can't fathom is why that actually even registers on a regular moms radar.
First off....what happened to the good old days when we judged other women on their shoes and inability to keep their legs closed. Why doesn't anyone care that Katie looks like a hooker today?!?!? How did eating organic and living like the Mennonite become somehow holier than thou? These people are fucking hippies....they're cool, but no body really pays attention to their nonsense. We all know that one day they'll grow up, don a button-up shirt, probably even invest in a sensible pair of tennis shoes and join the real world (over at the McDonalds drive-through -just trying to get a happy meal for the toddlers after a long day of real work)
Secondly, the bitch wears sweaty Birkenstocks, thinks tie dye is an acceptable pattern to wear and named her fucking kid Orphelia....since when do we take her serious??? And when did your figurative middle finger quit working??
When did we start bashing other moms over organic tomatoes and TV schedules. We all know it's totally acceptable to talk shit if little Johnny is a dick and spits on your kids and mommy refuses to discipline him - I mean that actually affects the rest of us.
But organic food, the amount of red food dye you allow your kids to consume, that shit has no bearing on anyone but your kid and his butthole at the end of the day.
This one eats boxed mac and chees almost
daily and she's freaking MAGIC!!
When did we forget that we're in this together...we're not in a competition!
We're literally just trying to stay sane and not murder a member of our own family (and usually trying to cook dinner, bathe kids, work a job outside of the home and remember to keep that damn alien toe painted)
We might all be taking totally different approaches to this parenting thing, but we're literally just trying to keep a bunch of drunken midgets alive long enough to be independent adults who we can count on to wipe our asses when we're 90.
And how did we get so fucking sensitive. We (moms - every single one of us) literally grew a fucking human in our body. Whole teams of high paid engineers cant even build a car with out 15 recalls.
We built a humans...WITH OUR LADY PARTS and no directions.
We build them then go on to squeeze them out of a hole the size of a pea.
|I built this one 13 years ago and she's still alive....|
Even after all of that we STILL love them - we stay up nights on end being literally shit on, spit on, puked on, hit, scratched and pinched.
We're like 3 water boardings shy of POW status (just stop - this is an exaggeration. I know that's probably not even close to being real life tortured in a POW camp but this is my blog and I can delete your comments and call you a whiney twat whos missing the point)
After all that how the hell are we so fucking sensitive??
FUCK YOU PEGGY! I built a baby...3 of them. Ya know what else....all 3 are still alive! I'm batting a-fucking-thousand over here! (And using corn syrup and Sponge Bob Square pants to boot). You can either cheer me on or fuck off but you cant make me feel bad for not buying the 12 dollar quinoa bread or hiding in the bathroom to eat my M&M's.
Maybe if more of us told Peggy to fuck off instead of trying to figure out how the hell to cook quinoa she'd decide to keep her super Mennonite mommy skills in her own house and just be a regular team player like the rest of us.
As for me...none ones dead yet, they all know how to use the word fuck in it's proper context, sometimes we only bath 3 times a week, fairly often they spend whole hours on an iPad or in front of the TV just so I can maintain my composure or do bills. I even hide candy in the shitter and tell them I'm pooping just so I don't have to share.
On top of all of that they know they are loved, they know they have boundaries and consequences, they might not always have my undivided attention but they know that when they need me I'll be there. Hell, I even have a 13 year old daughter that confides in me (like real shit confides...I don't have to read her diary)
|This is what not baking quinoa bread looks like - and that's totally beer in my hand|
So, fuck you Peggy - and your organic kale flavored quinoa tofu bread. You can waste all your time trying to tell us haggard moms how we're ruining our kids and coming up with new recipes that still taste like cardboard. I'll be over here enjoying mine when they're tolerable and hiding in the shitter eating chocolate when they're being assholes.
To my friends...(as long as yours is breathing and doesn't spit on my kids or steal my car) Way to fucking go!