I don’t know if it’s political correctness, or just a lacking of a funny bone, but I have learned that people don’t think it’s funny when you tell them your mother’s helper is named “Jose Cuervo.” Odd. They also don’t seem to take you seriously.
What makes motherhood so serious? I get that we’re raising the future generation, impressionable youth and all that. But what’s so wrong about admitting you’re raising human beings. Human beings with their own opinions and personalities. Human beings who, no matter how organic the food, will prefer to eat day old crusted cheerios. Sure, go ahead, withhold sugar from them. They’ll find it. And love it. And it doesn’t make them hyper. Oxygen makes them hyper.
There’s just no winning with some folks. I remember Baba wanting to go off with the pater familias in Costco once. I had a list of instructions for her to do, consisting of “don’t get lost” and “don’t break things.” She earnestly nodded and replied “I’ll try”. To which I responded “No you’ll DO.” Enter, lady with no life of her own, who sniffed loudly and radiated disapproval. Why, all the “how to do motherhood right” posters say you’re supposed to clearly explain expectations.
Apparently, there are women who live to eavesdrop on younger mothers. And then radiate “You’re DOING IT WRONG!” And there’s no pleasing them. Or knowing when they are going to go all Sanctimommy on you. While at Whole Foods (where you can buy Sanctimommy by the bushel) I had Mac and Baby contained within the cart. This is, in and of itself impressive, as anyone who has ever shopped at Whole Foods will know. Mac’s foot brushed Baba’s knee which cause of volcanic eruption of shrieking. Without removing my eyes from the task on hand, finding an appropriate birthday cake for the father figure, I announced “That kind of noise is only appropriate when your head is on fire.” Mrs. Whole Foods Child Rearing Expert decided to decree “Sarcasm is not child friendly.” This time it took effort for me to not look up, but man if there was ever a time to keep it cool, and I replied “Well it beats beating them.” Apparently not abusing your children isn’t funny either.
I guess to all those Sanctimommies out there, I wish I could say “No, YOU’RE doing it wrong!” I probably would, but Mac is wrestling Baba and X-Man over the selection of Phineas and Ferb, and this can’t end well for me. Or them. Mostly me though. I’ll have to sit through four or five versions of who wronged whom. And I don’t really care.
And for the record, there is a library full of books in the same room as the garish cartoon characters. As well as crayons, and pencils and all sorts of artistic outlets. But then I would have to clean up that mess, and I don’t want to right now. So yes, my children could be expanding their minds and expressing themselves through the medium of color. Or they could continue to punch each other and yell about who picked with episode last time. Conflict resolution is a skill, it’s not innate. Clearly. Now go feel better about your life, and maybe understand just why women feel the need to share their parenting opinions with me.