I’ve been having trouble deciding what to write about lately, and I think part of that is because in my daily life with kids, 90% of it is dealing with ugly, obnoxious cases of “I can’t”. Fellow parents are well versed in this hideous affliction. It’s the one that makes your kids whine about doing even the most mundane of tasks– ones they’ve done pretty much every other day of their lives without issue, suddenly, they are physically, mentally, and/or emotionally unable.
It has taken over my life like a suffocating, stinky wet blanket. So many minutes I could be spending doing something slightly more productive with my time, like staring at my wrinkles in the mirror, or wondering where all these new gray hairs came from near the crown of my head, is, instead, spent trying to calmly explain to my children why they CAN in fact brush their teeth, tie their shoes, eat a fucking sandwich…
Spoiler alert: it ain’t workin’.
As hard as I tried, as much as I tried to do the “right” thing by being patient, and calm, two words I would never use to describe myself are patient, and calm, so by the fourth time my kid claimed to not know how to put toothpaste onto his toothbrush, I’d about had enough. RIP Patient Mommy. This is about the moment all the promises I made myself so many years back, before children, when I was full of optimism and arrogance about my skills as a mother, go out the window.
This “can’t” affliction has forced me to take drastic measures to counter it. I’m in a dark place, people.
Over the weekend, at the head of all the can’ts, to the way of the Dodo, along with “I’ll never lick my thumb to clean my kid’s face” and “I will never lose my patience in public!”, went “I’ll never use my child’s birth to guilt them.”
I LASTED NINE LONG YEARS! NINE PAINFUL YEARS OF NEVER USING BLOWING OUT MY VAG TO GIVE BIRTH TO THEM AGAINST THEM!
….. and I’m never going back.
I mean, I did it, I DID blow out my vag to bring them into this world. I gave up my body, my mind, my skin elasticity. Why shouldn’t I be able to bring it up when they’re pulling all kinds of nonsensical bullshit about not being able to do something menial that isn’t going to rip their parts in half? It would be stupid not to.
Can’t figure out how to get noodles onto a fork? Well, I didn’t think I could squeeze your comically enormous dome out of my hoo-ha, but I did that, didn’t I?
Can’t finish your school project in time, even though you started it a week ago and only have one thing left to do? Well, I didn’t think I would survive labor with you when my blood pressure hit 200/100, BUT I DID, DIDN’T I?
Don’t tell me you “forgot” how to tie your shoes overnight. I didn’t forget to breathe while shoving the entirety of your body out of my birth canal, and trust me, that’s far more difficult.
There’s NOTHING they can say that can ever beat that. It’s a straight flush. And as much as I thought I would hate pulling the ultimate mom card… I don’t.
I DO still hate the “I can’t”s, but it no longer stands a chance. MOMS WIN!
Tell me, what is it? What’s the ONE “mom” thing you said you wouldn’t do, but now you do all the damn time, with no regret, because it’s the best shit ever? We all have one. Don’t be shy. Let me know in the comments!
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.