Turns out I pick on moms. I don’t have much against moms other than that they drive me insane. Let’s be honest; they drive me insane because they drive themselves insane. But today I’m going to stick up for some moms while telling a handful of others to stuff it.
Few things irritate me more than when a married woman – especially one married to a man who is gainfully employed – bitches about how her husband is never around because he works so much. Bitch all you want, gals, but when you say “I’m pretty much a single mom”, I take issue.
Most single moms rely on one paycheck, and perhaps you do too, complaining-married-mom. But the difference is they are the one who earns it. And if they want dad to chip in, odds are they had to get the courts involved to make that happen. I realize that’s not the case 100% of the time, so shut up. But I always wonder how single moms hold back their fists when they hear a stay-at-home mom with a hardworking husband make the comparison. I can only imagine the single mom is too exhausted to punch people.
Gals, it’s hard to have it both ways. If you want to stay home with your kids, the husband is probably going to be working a lot more to make that happen. And he probably thinks his long hours make him a good dad because he’s being a good provider. But to piss and moan that he’s not around enough because he’s off earning money? Stuff it. Of course there is the option where he gets a job that puts him in the driveway every night at 5 pm. That job pays a little less and perhaps means you have to work, too. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Another one that gets me is women who want a baby so badly that they say “If I’m not married by age X, I’ll just get pregnant.” Wow. WOW. Ladies, your homework for this evening is to sit down with a single mom and ask her how easy her life is. Ask her how she likes it when her toddling daughter visits dad, and dad’s new girlfriend sleeps over. And the girlfriend sends the toddler back to mom with a gel mani and a new haircut.
I’m not trying to crawl up the ass of the single mom here. I just honestly don’t know how they do it. I have one job, no kids, and no hobbies, and I could hardly make time to walk my dogs this weekend.
If it weren’t for social media, where would I find stupidity? Oh, I’m sure I’d make do. It’s out there.
My latest favorite stupid thing on social media isn’t really chick-specific. It has to do with people telling others they don’t have the right to speak an opinion.
On the contrary.
Take my friend who will post the occasional political comment. He, like me, doesn’t seem to lean too far one way or the other, and I personally don’t disagree with much of his statements. All he does is state his frustration with our leaders.
And so the flood of responses begins.
“You’re unhappy with them? Well what exactly would you do differently?”
“Oh you don’t like what congress did? What do you suggest to fix it?”
It’s basically an avalanche of people saying he can’t express his opinion about something unless he can also offer a solution.
Well bull and shit.
We absolutely can offer our opinions. We absolutely can vent our frustrations. We don’t lose this right just because we aren’t also offering to solve the problem. Good fucking grief. And folks? Is it so damn hard to ignore a Facebook status or a Tweet you disagree with? I do it every day.
Other than politics, there are of course the moms that say people without kids have “no right” to complain. The author of the STFU, Parents blog had a book released recently, and it brought out the crazies. Since the author doesn’t have kids, people feel she can’t complain. YES. Yes, she can complain about kids. If her blog upset you because she calls out people who post pics of shit-filled diapers, then don’t read it.
Hey, look at that. I complained AND offered a solution.
I’m awful at keeping a consistent blog presence. Sometimes I think I should make the effort to write something at least once a week. Other times I think the five friends who read this will forgive me if I don’t.
It’s not that I have a shortage of things to kvetch about. Boy would we all love to see that day. It’s that I got married, and planning a wedding took more out of me than I could’ve thought. Because I swore up and down I’d never be “that” girl. And I really wasn’t. My fiancé used to tell me “The wedding coordinator probably thinks we broke up since you never call her.” She did tell me I was probably the least-maintenance bride she’d ever met. I believe it. And I’m proud of it.
I knew I’d never be that stupid chick who needed to have the perfect wedding. I didn’t have an idea for the type of wedding I wanted. I just knew I wanted to do a lot of stuff myself because I enjoy crafting. Big no-no. All that did was suck away precious amounts of my time so I could end up with handmade invitations, programs, and favors that looked super plain. And plain would’ve been ok had I not sunk hours into these projects to end up with plain.
It’s no big deal. I’m a plain kinda girl. I just wish sometime sooner in the process I adopted the mantra that saved my sanity: Throw money at the problem. So any time I had an idea like “I should learn how to make tiramisu so I can make the groom’s cake”, the sane part of my brain that usually governs would say “Call AJ’s and order one you moron.” (The sane part of my brain can be a real cunt.)
I’ve already bitched about how some blogger once wrote that Pinterest was “ruining” weddings by making them all the same. The basis of my bitching was that all weddings were already the same. I guess people are just now starting to notice that, cuz here’s another article:
I’m not sure why, but it makes me happy that there were no mason jars, bridesmaids in cowboy boots, groomsmen in Chuck Taylors, photo booths, fake mustaches, “Choose a Seat and Not a Side” signs (or signs held by adorable children), or a mandolin-playing hipster. I’m 36. I’m plain. And I’m back to writing about stupidity.
I should apologize for being so inconsistent with my posting. But I won’t. I mean really, who does it hurt when I post so infrequently?
That being said, I will share a story that happened over the Christmas season that gave my friends and I a chuckle. And it has to do with that fucking Elf on the Shelf.
A friend of mine stated on Facebook that it’d be nice if there was a “Hide the Elf on the Shelf” option in her news feed. She wasn’t rude about it, nor did she say it in an asshole-ish way like I would. In fact, she said it just like this:
“Is there a way to block Elf on the Shelf updates? What happened to sitting on Santa’s knee at the mall and being good in December because Santa was supposedly watching and not some plastic creepy looking doll?”
Most people who responded agreed. But there was one mom friend who was just fucking clueless. Her response:
“Well my kids love it and I love how my kids love it :) It’s really cool to see them super excited everyday :) But you shouldn’t be able to see anymore of these pics from me :) Looks like you should be able to block people by un-selecting ‘show on news feed’ in their profiles if you don’t wanna see others too. Hope that helps! :)” (sic)
Where to start? The four – count em’, four – passive aggressive smiley faces? (This broad has a little work to do in the passive-aggressive department. But most of us know that is a skill perfected by the mothers of adult children.) The way she is telling my friend to block her if she doesn’t like seeing Elf on the Shelf pictures? The sickly sweet “Hope that helps!” at the end of her rant disguised as a helpful tip? This chick is fucking with me, yes? Because if not, the only other reason she’d tell my friend to block her is because she took the comment about Elf posts personally. She took it as pointed comment that told her “I no longer want to see what you have to say about your kids. Ever.”
Ladies, you need to see the difference. Everything said on the Internet about kids being annoying is not aimed at you and your family. We make generalizations. I do it here all the time. I’m guessing chick stupidity follows the 80/20 rule. And here’s hoping just 20% of chicks are stupid and not the other way around. Everything people say isn’t about you. Scratch that…there is no “you”. There is only your kid now. But rest assured, we are all on planet Earth, and we’re all rotating around the sun. You may have made the decision to revolve around your kid, but the entire Facebook community did not and is not. True story.
My friend politely (what is that, a super power?) responded:
“I’m not blocking you, ya’ nut!!!”
Which is kinder than what I wanted to say:
“Way to make every generalization about you and your kid, you self-centered fucking weirdo.”
I want to brag that a mutual friend and mother of two spent the next couple days sending my friend and I pictures of her Elf drinking booze and shitting chocolate. She gets us. And she wins the Internet.
My last blog got a lot of feedback. And as long as it’s not rude or nasty, I welcome it. It was a blog about moms losing their identity to being only “Mommy”. I wish I could get over this topic, but unless I plan on never reading Facebook or logging into Twitter (follow me! @kerryvent), then I’ll never escape being annoyed by it.
The funny thing is that all of the comments agreed with me. It went one of two ways:
1) I agree, and it’s ridiculous.
2) I agree, and I’m here to defend it and/or provide reasons why.
But I like when people agree, so we’ll leave it at that. That being said, it inspired me to write about something else that I think may stir a discussion. Per usual, I’m too much of a pussy to write about a lot of things. BUT! A nice, wise man by the name of Dennis Prager said something recently that I’ve been saying since my 20s. And since Prager politely states things in a manner of which I’m not capable, I’m going to suggest you direct any angry comments to him. He’s got a huge following. I just have the 10 friends who read this tumblr.
Prager was in town with Adam Carolla discussing everything from politics to religion to family. On the topic of women, he brought up how today’s woman is told she can have it all. And there aren’t a lot of women who believe otherwise because we’ve been indoctrinated with this noise for ages. Yes, a woman can have a great career. She can be an exceptional mother. She can manage to take time for herself, keep active & fit, and have a great circle of supportive friends. After a hard day’s work, she can keep a house and make home-cooked meals for her kids every night. And if she is doing all this, does that mean she has it all? Supermom and corporate-ladder-climber?
Not quite. The talk about “having it all” has been reduced to kids & career. And as Prager put it, the role of wife isn’t even on the list. I know what I’m about to say may be hard to swallow for women whose worlds are currently revolving around kids. It’s not popular. It’s anti-feminist. But it’s the truth: Your marriage should come first. *gasp* Yes, I just suggested your kids not come first. And if you are a Christian, you should put God first, your marriage second, and your kids third. Yes, not only are your kids not first, they’re third. THIRD.
I heard a comedian say that it’s almost evolutionary. Once wife becomes mom, she’s done with being wife. Wish I could remember who said that.
I’m not suggesting you not work. I’m not suggesting you not have kids. (OK, maybe. Having kids sounds horrible.) I’m suggesting you remember that the other person who lives in the house with you is not your roommate. It’s a person to whom you made promises and took vows.
I lot of my married-with-kids friends seem so much happier after realizing that they need to take time out for their marriage. One friend told me finding a trusted babysitter made a world of difference. Now it meant she and her husband could go out for dinner and drinks once in a while. Sometimes mom and dad need a little time to remember why they wanted to make those kids in the first place.
Hmmm. Sometimes I read what I wrote and think of how those who disagree will respond. And all I can think is that some women will say “Yeah, but what if my husband sucks?”
To quote Judge Judy: “You picked him!”
I once wrote a blog about my hatred of the word “mommy”, and I never posted it because I’m a pussy. But then someone else wrote an article about how society is putting the “mommy” title on women, and that it ain’t cool to do so. But bullshit. Society isn’t calling moms “mommies”: Moms call themselves that. And it makes me want to yack.
(The article. I can’t tell if I’m agreeing with her or not.)
I believe this is a trend specific to the Gen X mom. The jury is still out on you, Gen Y. My point is that my own Baby Boomer mother and her friends didn’t engage in the annoying trend of calling oneself mommy. Here’s a small sampling of what annoys me:
Gen X Mom refers to herself as “mommy”. She has almost (in some cases entirely) lost her identity. I used to coach cheerleading (fuck you) and was exchanging email addresses with a mom of one of my cheerleaders. It occurred to me I didn’t know her first name. When she handed me a paper with her email address on it, it was firstname.lastname@example.org. I still don’t know her first name. Who needs one? You’re mommy now.
Gen X Mom feels the need to have “mommy” friends. And yes, she calls them “mommy friends”. Whatever happened to just having friends? When I was a kid, my mom didn’t hang out with my friends’ parents, and I didn’t hang out with my mom’s friends’ kids. Now you see women terminate friendships because they can’t be mommy friends with someone who didn’t breastfeed or who doesn’t discipline the same way. Oh, and they don’t just hang out with mommy friends; they have play dates! The fuck? When did play dates become a thing?
Gen X Mom doesn’t have time for non-mommies. If you’re not a mommy yourself, say good bye to your friends once Junior arrives. They’ll make time for their mommy friends but not for you, spinster. Case in point? I’m available to go to dinner and/or coffee every single day of the week. I’m not exactly drowning in invitations. I once saw on an episode of Scrubs that the friend without the kids should make more of the effort to carry the friendship. And I considered that for about two weeks. Then I realized that’s baloney. It’s for the best, as I’d probably only get to hear about kids and her severe lack of mommy friends on these nonexistent coffee dates.
I know, I know…my friends with kids will read this and be hurt about our lack of coffee dates, right? Bull. They’re too busy to read a non-mommy blog. (With one or two exceptions :)
The list of things that annoys me is endless, but in the top five is people who use the phrase “We’re pregnant.”
No. No, no. We are not pregnant. We are expecting, but we are not pregnant. Get it, fools? Just stop it. Oh, and to the couple who won’t tell us the baby name until baby comes? Suck one.
I just read what I wrote and feel the need to state that I’m not pregnant. Neither is my fiance.
This week on Mommyish, I put together a round-up of different ways people announce their pregnancy on Facebook. The submissions aren’t all necessarily “overshare,” but they do mark a trend in how we share information. Back when I started this blog in 2009, it was still a little weird to post a sonogram on your Wall, much less use it as a profile picture, and most people announced their pregnancy in the same way you might announce getting a new car or a promotion - simply by saying it and adding a descriptive word to show your excitement. Something like, oh, I don’t know, “I’m excited to announce that we are expecting a baby!”
But over the years, pregnancy announcements have morphed into something that makes a bigger splash. I referenced the gender/sex reveal cake phenomenon in the Mommyish article because I think pregnancy announcements continue to head in that direction. People stage pictures, hand-write notes, and/or come up with some quirky way to reveal that a baby is on the way to elicit as much excitement from their friends as humanly possible. Soon, there will be touch screen advancements that allow parents-to-be to create interactive scavenger hunts in which their friends will choose their own adventure, inevitably arriving inside the womb of their pregnant friend where they’ll get to “meet” the tiny embryo, donate to its college fund, and perhaps dedicate a song to it on Spotify.
Here are but a few of the ways people choose to share their big news with Facebook, and thus, the world:
1. Announce With Spaghetti Sauce
Prego spaghetti sauce is having its moment on Facebook, despite the fact that the expression is typically spelled “preggo” and Prego is Italian for “you’re welcome.” I included a Prego example on Mommyish, too, because honestly I’ve got like eight of these submissions. Although, I will say that I appreciate the set-up that went into this picture. Back of the car + big sister holding a random flower + a painted piece of cardboard = a valiant effort. Bonus points if the picture was taken in the grocery store parking lot.
2. Announce With a Pregnancy Test
We’ve seen pregnancy tests on the blog several times before, but never have those photo updates attracted a conversation like the one Elisabeth
N Danieland Mary are having about taking a crap in candlelight. Well done, you two. I only wish we could’ve caught a glimpse of Elisabeth’s reading material.
My friend is getting married in September, and as I am now newly engaged, she gave me a piece of advice: Do NOT attend a bridal show.
True to form, I ignored this. Mostly because my mom wanted to go, and it’s been 13 years since one of her kids got married. In no way did I think I’d enjoy it, but I didn’t know I’d detest the entire experience from depths I didn’t know I had. Oy and vey.
For starters, they hand out stickers. They say “Bride!”, “Groom!”, “Mom!” or “Bride’s Entourage”. I managed to avoid getting a sticker. And gals? Why on God’s green Earth would you make the groom come with? I hope when you got home he beat you about the head and neck. And not a court in the land would convict him. You had that coming.
It hit me that these bridal shows are kid stuff. It was a bunch of twenty-somethings and their girlfriends having a giggly time. It was uber crowded, and these ditzes would just stand there in the middle of what should’ve been flowing foot traffic texting and talking on the phone. MOVE! And on another note regarding crowd control, can I get a big fat WTF for all the dagnab strollers? Sweet shit, ladies! Let junior stay at home. With the groom.
Another challenge was that bridal shows are in direct conflict with my chronic cheapness. I love doing crafts and hate spending money, so I’m planning to do all my own invitations, centerpieces, flowers, and favors. So there was no need for me to look at any booth that was peddling that overpriced gunk. Let’s be honest: I was in it for the cake samples. And to my dismay, there weren’t that many.
I think the only big concern I’ll have during the wedding planning process is finding a photographer. For starters, the price range on a decent one goes from robbery to anal rape. And what’s with the effing artsy crap? Oh, here’s a picture of the ring on a rose petal. Here’s a shot of the back of the wedding party in silhouette. And here’s a shot of the bride’s shoes in a tree. WHO THE EFF WOULD BUY THOSE? I’ve never gone into anyone’s home and seen a framed 8x10 of the bride’s foot. When my sister got married, the photographer actually had her sit down on concrete for a picture. I’d have kindly told him to go fuck himself. Hard.
But of all the people there I wanted to punch, the worst of it goes to the chick who was wearing a tank top that said “I got one!” and it showed a bride dragging a groom. Because implying that finding a spouse is a hunt and men must be dragged toward commitment is hilarious. Except that it isn’t.