Just because we adults procreate with other adults to bring forth new life to this weird, wacky world- doesn’t mean we’re always responsible or mature, or that we do the right thing.
Shit, we’re all still human- right?
As much as we morph our lives and change things around, learn to live on very little sleep (that doesn’t have to do with partying all night, unless you consider midnight feedings and explosive shitty diapers a party), and generally (or hopefully I should say) become better versions of ourselves… sometimes old habits die hard.
No, don’t worry, i’m not talking about anything SERIOUS here- but by perfect mommy standards (I mean, is there really such a thing?) we are supposed to be bright, shining, perfect examples for our kids to look up to- because we are who they learn the good and the bad from before anyone else.
A good foundation, blah blah blah.
It’s not that I disagree. I don’t, at all! But again- we’re HUMAN, and there’s some shit that isn’t that serious that we probably SHOULDN’T do in front of our kids, but we do it anyway- because we figure it’s harmless and not that big of a deal (or, y’know, we just can’t help ourselves). Maybe it isn’t, but we all know no matter HOW small the action, those little leeches pick up on every single movement and somehow always manage to choose the worst ones to mimic.
It’s some kind of childhood law that says they have to. Don’t ask me where I heard that, I just know it to be true. I know lots of things. Or I like to think I do.
MY list of Parenting No-No’s, aka “Things Perfect Parents Would Poo-Poo” goes a little something like this:
1. Nose picking– Don’t judge me. I have both nostrils pierced and those suckers ITCH and get gunk stuck to them every single day of my life.
Shit, who am I kidding? I’d pick my nose anyway. Why? Because boogers are fucking annoying and I want them out. I even pick my kids noses because THEIR boogers annoy me (and because they HATE it and for some reason it makes me laugh). Now my kids both pick their damn noses, only they’ve gone as far as to become consumers of the fruits of their labor.
I was many things, I am many things- NEVER have I been or will I be a snot eater!
2. Fatty food eating- OBVIOUSLY I want my kids to grow up to make wise decisions with the stuff they decide to slam into their faces, which means teaching them young that healthy stuff is good and yummy and fattening stuff is THE DEBIL’S EVIL MISTRESS! Ok, not really- but teaching them moderation I think is pretty important.
Let’s just say- they eat a fuckload better than I do. Rounded balanced meals. Do I always eat rounded balanced meals? Hell no I don’t. I have a uterus that explodes on a semi-monthly basis, and when it does it screams EAT THOSE FUCKING CHIPS, BITCH- OR I’LL KILL YOU!
That’s a pretty hefty threat there, and all of my insides beg me to comply, so I do- which sometimes has me standing in the pantry feverishly inhaling chips (and you can substitute the words chocolate, cookies, or really anything that will put a pound directly onto your ass where ‘chips’ is) like it’s my job, and has the kids asking “why can’t I have chips too?”
Obviously, answering that question with “grow a uterus and we’ll talk about it” wouldn’t really make a hell of a lot of sense to them- and as much as I try to explain it in ways that they can, I wouldn’t at all be surprised to catch them hiding in the pantry one day slamming chips- and that will be my fault.
3. Belching- Once a belcher, always a belcher- and even at 28 years old I still say there is NOT much that feels better than releasing a gigantic burp. If I have an air bubble, i’m gonna let it out y’all. If my husband gets to nearly shart himself a dozen times a day and say “I can’t help it”, then why should I help my burps? Oh, that’s right, I have kids. And the kids, boys especially, think my belching is the cat’s meow. The best thing since sliced bread. Playdoh and peanut butter sandwiches. I should be ladylike according to some. Hold them in. Excuse myself. Teach my kid proper manners, and all that goodie-two-shoes normal parening mumbo jumbo. And i’d agree with knowing the correct situation in which letting out a good old fashioned blue ribbon winning gut burp is appropriate…. and my kids do not know that yet. I guess it’s a good thing their lungs have very little capacity for such things, or i’d most certainly be a bad influence.
4. Cursing- We’ve been over it, and then over it again. Some things just deserve a “FUCK” and it doesn’t matter who’s in the room. You can yell and scream “EARMUFFS!” all you want, but c’mon, let’s face reality here- some hands over the ears aren’t going to stop them from hearing your 4-letter bombs. I’ve tried word replacement and basically just putting a cork in it- but the inevitable is the inevitable and a potty mouth is as a potty mouth does. I have no idea if that makes sense, but what i’m saying is stopping completely ain’t gonna happen. BAD MOMMY!
5. Nail Biting- What can I say? I don’t like that I do it, but but but… sometimes they just CALL to me.
And in my defense I never bite down to the nub. I’ve already proven what with the chip slamming and man-belching that i’m not very ladylike, so is it really any surprise that i’m not big on long nails?
Holden, alas, has turned into a nailbiter as well. Fingers AND toes. BARF. Can I blame this one on the husband though? I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to gnawing their fingers as him. It’s really quite lovely (and by lovely I mean totally fucking disgusting).
Maybe nail biting isn’t learned… but inherited. Or maybe it’s just his fault. Ba-da-bing.
Look, I figure if at the end of the day, these things are the only bad things I am imprinting onto my children, i’m doing pretty frickin’ good if I do say so myself. And I do. So there.
So tell me, parents of the world (or at least the ones reading this blog, and preferably not the assholes lying in wait to tell me that I suck at life and bla de bla bla)- what makes your list of things you do that perfect parents would poo-poo?
Every. Single. Time. pic.twitter.com/aAAWWjdrN3
I'm either "I HAVE 3 FRIES LEFT DON'T TOUCH MY PLATE!" or "Please take this so I can't eat any more of it!" There is no in-between.
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Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.