1. Don’t tell me my kids are growing up so fast. No shit Sherlock. I’m like Zappos’s best customer on earth. And every time you tell me, it drives the stake into my heart a little more.
2. Don’t tell me I’m buckling my car seats wrong. If you don’t tell me how to buckle my car seats, I won’t tell you you’re an annoying shartrag.
3. Don’t tell me I should cherish every moment. Because when my douchenugget is screaming his head off and super-glueing himself to the floor in the cereal aisle because I won’t buy him Sugary Boogery O’s, the moment I cherish is when he goes to sleep later and I can sit on the couch and drink wine.
4. Don’t tell me I look tired. Duhh, I’m not blind. I look in the mirror and I don’t have bags under my eyes. I have the whole F’ing luggage aisle from Target.
5. Don’t ask me to buy into whatever pyramid schemey product you’re selling. Lotions, makeup, diets, drinks, jewelry, bags, Tupperware, books, oils, rags, vitamins, Jamberry, meals, facials, or whatever the F you’re peddling. If you want to host a party and feed me free wine, awesome. But if you want me to bring my checkbook and earn you a pink Cadillac, the wine ain’t free and I buy my shit at Target.
6. Don’t tell me your kids are good sleepers. Mine are not. Which makes me grumpy and volatile and I can’t promise I won’t do something really bad if you piss me off.
7. Don’t tell me I look old enough so you don’t need to see my i.d. People who ask for my i.d. get tips. People who don’t ask for my i.d. get the middle finger.
8. Don’t ask me if I want more children. Yes I do… every time I walk through the baby section and see a pair of teeny-tiny high-tops or an itty-bitty ruffly bathing suit.
9. Don’t tell me it only gets harder. This parenting thing is hard as shit, and the last thing I need is you saying “heyyyy it’s just gonna suck more!”
10. Don’t ask me if I’m preggers. I’m not. I just had a burrito for lunch.
And don’t forget to subscribe to my blog because Facebook doesn’t always show it to people!! I swear it only sends you an email when I put up a new post, which is not very often. Because I’m lazy. And tired. And busy raising little rugrats.