In the past I have written blogs on the subject of being a woman (duh) and the kinds of questions and/or statements that come along with not packing heat between your legs.
When are you going to have kids? How many do you want?
And then once you squeeze one of those suckers out, the questions get more irritating and frequent (depending upon your age)
Are you done have kids? When are you going to have another? Aren’t you going to try for a girl/boy/alienmonkeyhybrid? You NEED that alienmonkeyhybrid! Give that child a sibling! AND ANOTHER! MORE BABIES!!!!!!
It’s enough to make you want to scream. Or consider removing all of your lady bits just to get people to BACK THE HELL OFF. Most of them mean no harm in their endless prodding concerning the contents of your uterus, but you find yourself wondering- Is NOTHING private anymore?
In the past I have also marked these questions and statements as the single most obnoxious fucking things you could ever say to a woman in the history of things to say to a woman.
I was wrong.
There is another offender, a more obnoxious, condescending “but I mean well” offending statement that really boils my ass and always pushes me to the edge of flying off the handle and the only reason I don’t is because it’s not worth the time i’d waste explaining my reasoning for going all apeshit on some random person.
“You’ll miss that when they’re older!”
BAM. There it is. If you are having the shittiest day of your entire life, your kid is screaming and snotting and refuses to sleep. If they’re throwing toys and pounding their fists on the ground because you won’t let them have some stupid ass Polly Pocket Monster Truck after it got taken away for being a little fucknut- and you just so happen to feel the need to get out the building, bubbling frustration on your insides in any kind of public forum- you will more than likely get in response:
“You’ll miss that when they’re older!” followed by an even more obnoxious “Cherish them now!”
HEY. YOU. SMARMY McCHEERIOS PISSER. HOW ABOUT YOU STUFF A DIRTY SOCK IN IT?
When I am having one of those days where I just want to bitch, where the kids are being awful- the LAST thing I want is some Do-Gooding NaySayer looking down at me, perched upon their self fabricated high horse trying to make me feel bad about it.
Even on a good day, if I want to bitch about my kid grinding red playdoh into my white carpet or wiping his foot long booger drippings on the back of my shirt while i’m not looking- what gives YOU the right to passive aggressively tell me to stop?
Thank you so much for the life lesson, super genius, but I am well aware that children do in fact grow up too fast. I am aware that ‘before I know it’ they will be grown and no longer will I have babies and all of these things will be distant memories. The good and the bad.
And do you know what I have to say to that? DO YOU?
Of COURSE I am going to miss my children as children… IN GENERAL. I will miss them being little, the snuggles, the firsts, the teeny tiny little clothes (not so much the snaps though), the times when they
couldn’t smart mouth me worshiped the ground I walked on- that is an absolute no-brainer.
BUT- and this is a big but- you’re trying to tell me i’m going to miss the explosive diarrheas, the hour long temper tantrums, the random and completely uncalled for biting sprees, the weeks I went sleeping under 4 hours a night and being woken every few minutes, the money spent on diapers, and getting more bodily fluids poured onto me in an hour than an ER Trauma nurse does in an entire day?
WHAT ARE YOU SMOKING?
No, really, tell me, because if you are that far gone into hallucinogenic LaLa Land I must know your secret.
I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I prefer to live for today. Not sitting around worrying about what i’m going to be missing in the future, because by worrying about the future I miss out on the NOW- and even if the now is bad, even if I want to tear my hair out piece by piece, I prefer to experience it rather than putting on a fake-ass happy face because “oh, one day i’m going to miss this”
And if that means i’m going to bitch about things that SUCK- then i’m gonna do it, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
How ’bout you stick that in your bottle and suck it?
Every. single. time. pic.twitter.com/qxy23khtts
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The closest I've come to public nudity is when my kid opened the bathroom door on me at Starbucks.