Dear nanny talking on your cell phone,
Okay, so last Tuesday I took my kiddos to the Children’s Museum and I saw you three times that day. The first time was on our way there when I pulled up next to you at a traffic light. There you were yapping on your cell phone in the car. Now I’ll admit, there have been times that I’ve talked on my phone in the car and I know it’s the wrong thing to do, but hey, it’s not something I do every day. Or when my kids are in the car. Or EVER EVER EVER when someone else’s kid is in my car. Nevvvvvver. No phone call is worth it. But here you were yapping away with someone else’s most prized possession sitting in the backseat.
Then I pulled up to the museum and there you were again, yapping on your cell phone while you got the kiddo out of the car. I mean I was glad to see you got here accident-free and you were both safe and sound and alive but seriously, get off your stupid phone call.
1. Sleep now. Like seriously, think of yourself as a bear and this is your only chance to hibernate because as soon as little Miss Poopie Pants arrives, you might not get 8 straight hours of sleep in like, hmmm, I don’t know, maybe forever.
2. Breastfeeding sucks. No pun intended. Eventually it’s pretty amazing so hang in there, but for most mommies the first week or so feels like someone put giant bloodsucking leeches with vampire teeth on your nipples. Yes, even if you’re doing it right.
3. Okay, so you have your old jeans (that you may never fit in again) and you have your maternity pants (that are perfect for Thanksgiving dinners). Now go buy a pair in between. Because even though the baby comes out right away, a bunch of other shit doesn’t.
Dear kid who I just saw being bullied outside Noodles and Company,
I heard what those a-hole kids said to you and I just wanted to tell you something. Yeah, I know I’m just some random grownup who really doesn’t know WTF you go through every day, so maybe you don’t even want to listen to me. And no, I’m not even some cool celebrity, so if you want to stop reading this, fine. So be it.
Truth be told, I’m so sick of hearing all these celebrities tell people like you to not worry about being bullied because they were bullied too and look at them now. I mean A. Most of us don’t get to grow up to be celebrities. That’s like saying, hey kid, don’t feel bad because there’s a one in a million chance that you’re gonna grow up to be famous. And B. When did it become fashionable to say you were bullied back when you were in school? It’s like they’re all bragging about it.
ZOEY: Mom, where are we going?!
ME: It’s a surprise!!
ZOEY: Noooo, tell me.
ME: It’s a surprise!!
ZOEY: Fine, just give me a hint.
ME: Okay, put one shoe on and we can go.
ZOEY: Ugggh, Mom, where are we going?!!!
ME: I said put ONE shoe on and we can go!
ZOEY: Mommm, just give me a hint.
My 3.5 year-old still naps. Yup, I said that. Be jealous. Judge me if you want. But man do I get a lot of shit done while he’s sleeping and there is no way I’m letting him drop his nap yet. Yeah, some days he’s a total douchenugget and keeps singing to himself and coming out of his room until I finally give up, but usually he’ll sleep for an hour or two and I can do important stuff like pluck my unibrow in peace and figure out how to make dinner out of the four pitiful items in our fridge. Q: What do you make with jelly, American cheese slices, watermelon yogurt and a shitload of old condiments? A: You make a phone call to the pizza place. But I digress.
Anyways, so you know what pisses me off to no end? When I’ve finally convinced my kid to take a nap and like two minutes after he goes down, DING DONG!!!!!
Dear brand new mom,
Let me start by saying this. You are not:
Doing a bad job
Remember when you were scared about giving birth and you told yourself it’s okay, millions of women have done it before me? Well, millions of women have felt exactly the way you feel right now. No, I’m not inside your brain and I don’t know EXACTLY how you’re feeling, but I promise you we have all gone through the pain that you are going through right now. The pain of being a mom for the first time. I know, I know, you knew it was going to be hard, but you probably didn’t know it was going to be THIS hard.
But but, but what about all those perfect mommies on Facebook and Pinterest who say they LOVVVVVVED every single second with their newborn and even liked changing poopie diapers and waking up with their boobie-suckers at all waking hours because they cherished every precious moment? Well, guess what. They’re lying. I mean maybe they don’t know they’re lying because they don’t remember what it was really like, and I don’t blame them because it’s probably just their body’s way of blacking it out because the memories are too much to handle. Because having a newborn for the first time kinda sorta sucks.
Dear other mom who I just invited over for a playdate,
I’m super excited to have you over so we can try to ignore our children and actually have a conversation for once, but I wanted to let you know a few things first:
1. Don’t be appalled if my house is a mess when you get here. That just means we’re good enough friends that I don’t have to clean up for you. Or that I’m lazy and pretending we are.
2. If it’s after 9AM, I’ll probably offer you a “drink.” I won’t judge you for saying no thank you as long as you don’t judge me for drinking yours too.
Okay, I know when it comes to punishing our kids we’re supposed to give them time-outs or send them to their rooms or make them go to bed without supper and shit like that. But what I’ve learned in my house is that these punishments don’t work anymore. I don’t know if they’re just overused and worn out or whether it’s that my kids are older now.
Like if I give Zoey a time out these days, she basically sits on the doormat by the front door and sings to herself and calls Holden over and then I have to say no to Holden because she’s having a time out right now and then he gets all pissed off and then we’ve got twice the flailing and snotting and yelling. Fun times.
Okay, you know what I hate more than anything? Well, not ANYTHING. I mean I hate a few things more. Like Hitler. And olives. But I digress. Do you know what I hate a whole lot? When I’m standing there with my rugrats and someone asks me if I work. Duhh, do you think these poop machines are raising themselves?
The truth is I used to ask that too BEFORE I had kiddos. Now I’ve changed the way I ask it. These days I’ll say something like, “Do you do anything in addition to the ridiculously hard, super challenging, often disgusting job of taking care of your kids?”
Yayyyyyy, Girl Scout cookies are in!!!!
Dear Mrs. So-and-So,