There is this butt-ugly (yes, I’m over 30 and just typed butt-ugly) misconception floating around in the air these days, and as a self-respecting female, I cannot let the ugly butt stand. Actually, as a self-respecting MOM, I cannot let this ugliness of butts stand!
I hear the whispering. The assuming. The stereotyping. The giggling from the young ones, and the eye rolls from the old ones.
Ohhh, you’re a mom. You’re boring now.
Say WHAT?! You wait just a hairy ding-a-ling-dong second!
Don’t pretend you aren’t thinking it, non-parents, or have never thought it! Hell, even a bajillion years ago before I had kids, I thought the same thing. Moms were nothing but professional ass-wipers. They shake rattles, feed babies and pin recipes on Pinterest all day long. Nothing but animal crackers and dirty diapers on the brain- so what could be left that is interesting?
I think I speak for most (I can’t say all, ’cause ya never know) moms when I say that yes, our lives changed, our priorities changed. No, we might not go out and party or spend as much time gossiping. Maybe we fear that we can no longer hold an adult conversation because we just haven’t done anything interesting to talk about OTHER than the shit we do with our kids. Our Friday nights might be spend comfortable on the couch in our pajamas before 8pm, and we might wake up at the ass crack of dawn every morning and get shit done (but never really by choice). Maybe we’re trapped in a never ending pile of laundry, responsibility, worry, guilt, panic, and confusion at the hands of the spawn we created, and can’t make the time to yap on the phone for an hour like we used to because as soon as we pick up the phone the kids set off TNT in the fucking living room and make it impossible to hear anything. Maybe the most interaction we’ve had outside of the beings that reside in our household is with the mailman after he banged on the damn door and woke up the sleeping frickin’ child and we’re about to go all apeshit on his face. Maybe the most interesting part of our entire day is actually GETTING the mail (after not apeshitting on the mailman’s face). Maybe we are BORED, but we are NOT, I repeat NOT boring.
Motherhood may kill our social lives, but it does not kill our senses of humor. We HAVE to have senses of humor to be parents and still get out of bed every morning. We HAVE to!
If anything, I’m even MORE wild and immature than I was before procreating. I’ve had to entertain two little kids with the attention spans of a fruit fly for YEARS. I’m crazy! I’ve been shit on, puked on, leaked, and used as a booger dispenser. I have stories that could make you laugh, cry, barf, or spoon out your reproductive organs. I play games, make up games, and do shit with my body that it is FAR too old to do, just to keep them busy and happy. Moms are probably the funnest fucking people you know!
We have zero shame (that went out the door in the delivery room) and have been brainwashed into liking cartoons, board games, and random dance parties. WE GREW HUMAN LIFE INSIDE OUR OWN BODIES! WE ARE AWESOME. NOT BORING! BOW DOWN!!! End of story.
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.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
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.