STFU, Parents, Please!
I have some really bizarre dreams and desires. Sometimes (okay often), I watch QVC and fantasize about becoming a QVC host. The passion with which these people highlight the features and benefits of wonderful and not-so-wonderful products is awesome. Yes, their passion and finesse in the art of bullshitting inspires me with awe. I want to be one of them.
Another odd aspiration of mine is to end up on STFU, Parents. Perhaps I’m not quite snarky or weird enough on Facebook or Twitter to achieve this mission. You will never see a placenta print from me (click if you dare!) You will also never see a pic of a newborn emerging from my nether regions, because that pic doesn’t exist. There are, however, several occasions a month my mind does an internal mommy-jacking while scrolling through the Facebook feed, although I can never bring myself to type my thought and hit enter. So, to vent, here’s a mildly irritating listicle of my recent STFU-worthy thoughts, if only I were willing to share in a more organic fashion:
- I recently visited the doctor for a sinus infection, where she asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10. How does that pain scale even make sense now that I’ve experienced two childbirths with abysmal epidurals? Those forceps were something from a nightmare. Each subsequent instance of pain has been a 2 relative to those experiences.
- Dear, sweet, handsome husband: I made these children. I grew them in my body, delivered them into the world, and fed them from my body for a year-ish each. Okay, okay, you helped. You contributed one haploid cell. I contributed one haploid cell and billions of diploid ones (I know you’re gonna read this, dude. Don’t be mad, we’ve had this conversation. I’m just teasing. But it’s totally true.)
- Aww, your husband likes to pamper you with breakfast in bed because you’re pregnant? Try being pregnant with an older kid running around snotting on everything. My husband entertaining the toddler so I could be nauseous and vacuum the house in peace was a virtual day at the spa.
- You’re having a hard time taking your dog for a walk while you have a cold? I really feel for you. Almost as bad as a few weeks ago when my ENTIRE FAMILY had viral gastroenteritis. The worst is when you’re dizzy and can’t keep anything down and you’re trying to shampoo the freaking carpet while your 3-year-old is arguing the merits of only vomiting on the floor, because “it’s not fun” to vomit in the toilet. Needless to say the dog took care of herself that week. She almost cooked dinner because she felt so bad for us.
- While I’m usually pretty modest when told how cute my kids are, I truly think they’re in the top two percent worldwide in the looks department. What can I say? Heredity is a powerful force. Also their vocabulary is to die for.
- The days I get to dress in actual professional attire, get in the car, and go to the office? Also like a day at the spa.
- I’m tired, so I’m going to end this listicle. I really need a break while the kids nap. I think I’ll go do a relaxing load of laundry.
Tweet me @ksenapathy or comment below with your secret or not-so-secret Mommyjacking, sanctimommy, or other STFU, Parents-worthy notions!
Featured image, © 2014 Kavin Senapathy