Believe it or not, I actually DO have real life mommy friends. My foul mouth and “hold nothing that swims around in my weird brain back” does not scare EVERYONE away. A lot of people, but not everyone.
The ones that have stuck it out for the long haul know pretty much exactly what to expect from me: truth. Whether they like it or not, whether I want to say it or not… sometimes I just can’t help myself. BUT, they also know that i’m not going to judge them for their differences, shit on them if I disagree, or even think any less of them.
I’m the person you go to when you aren’t looking for someone to give you the answer you WANT. Lots of people only want to hear what they want to hear and get all pissy when you don’t cater to that. Or they take “your” advice after the 5th person tells them shit they didn’t want to hear, when they refused to take it from you when you gave it to them in the first place. UGH.
Why even ASK for advice then? I’m not going to coddle your grown ass. That ain’t me!
I’m lucky enough to have friends these days that understand that and don’t pull the pissy on me. Not usually, anyway. I also don’t like to give advice… pretty much EVER, because life is so damn subjective and what works for me may not work for you and vice-versa. I keep my opinions to myself unless I am specifically asked “Hey, what would you do?” and damnit, if you ask me, i’ll give it to you.
Over the past week I had a little texty convo with a fellow mommy who was chatting with me about the kids starting school and how she’s afraid she’s going to be the type of mom who doesn’t ever say no. For some reason or another- just ends up being the one to say yes to everything.
I don’t go into the whole “Oh well you SHOULD be doing THIS” shit… because I know how obnoxiously annoying it is to be TOLD what to do by someone who isn’t a doctor (and even then.. doctors can be douchefaces) what to and not to do with your own flesh and blood creation, so I just tell my friends, if they’re looking for some kind of advice, what I do. And my response to the saying yes disease?
“I’m the mean mommy”
It’s not like it’s some new revelation for me, but I guess putting it into those words to someone can be slightly confusing the first time.
No, I don’t think life is about discipline and punishment and being nothing but a horrid biotch all the time- especially not to little kids who are simply just being KIDS and sometimes kids can’t help but to be assholey in nature… but damnit, it’s hard. And it sucks. And it sucks that it’s hard, and it also sucks that we have to be the disciplinarians and the bad guys and the ones who catch the brunt of the anger from being all of those things all the friggin’ time.
So, I figured- if it’s going to have to be done, which it is, why not enjoy it just a little? Just a teensy-tiny little smidgen? Why not have at least ONE person in the house not miserable when the other is screaming and acting like a mini-mutant ninja asshole?
Do I WANT to tell you no? Not really, not always. I’m not THAT mean. But if you ask me for something, and I rationally explain to you why that isn’t going to/can’t/is impossible to have happen, and you continue to whine at me as if it’s the end of the fucking world, the sky is coming down, you are absolutely going to DIE unless you do/have/see/watch this one stupid ass thing, and my rational rationale wasn’t good enough? Then i’m going to enjoy saying no to you again. And again if necessary; and AGAIN after that (we know the little turds don’t give up easily).
|That’s right. I’ve got a fee-vah.
The only cure is more NO.
If I felt shitty every time I said no to my kids (which is ALL the fucking time, because they are little, and little kids ask to do the stupidest crap and go to the most expensive places that are the farthest away ALL the time), I might not be able to pull myself out of bed in the morning. That’s a LOT of No’ing to feel crappy about.
Instead, I will be the evil cheerful No’er.
Mean Mommy? So be it! I own that shit. Give me a merit badge, i’ll wear it proudly.
One can only hope that it will have the intended effect of eventually having kids who don’t ask for unrealistic bullshit. Realistic… maybe even with a HINT of unrealistic, I can consider. Completely unrealistic and you’re getting a big fat happy NO. Deal with it.
I realize that wishing for realistic requests is unrealistic in itself, but damnit- a mom can dream.
Plus, I never claimed my logic made any sense.
10yo: What is calculus? Me: It's you + me = us Husband: get out. #oldpeoplejokes
Bravery AND confidence pic.twitter.com/voqjVXWgZx
@wildblueME I just don't tell them what I'm making anymore
Winning Advice from an 8-year old goo.gl/fb/MmhfYU
Y'know what's awesome? I don't even have to waste time trying new recipes because my kids will tell me they hate it before I start cooking.
@Julieannefiu I still sing WRAPPED UP LIKE A DOUCHE. I think they're lying about the "real" lyrics
I sang SO many embarrassingly wrong song lyrics with such confidence. pic.twitter.com/Ww5TaAxY3r
@AndreaPerez0217 Not that I'm biased, but I highly recommend ;) Hope you enjoy!