What Babies Are Not

I know a few people that are always going on about wanting children, how they’re going to have a baby in a year when things “settle down”, how they think they’d make great parents, how they’re going to do everything right when they have a little one of their own. And in nearly every single fucking instance, I think to myself, “You are the exact type of person who should not have a baby right now.”

And it’s because they really have no concept of what a baby is. What it means to have a child. They do not comprehend that once you decide to have a kid, the life you have led for however many years is gone. You have a new life now. In many ways, it will be better, and in more ways it will be harder, and that is due in no small part to the fact that parenting is one of the few things in life that you pretty much have to completely fucking improvise. There is no manual, no two week training period, no documentary. You just kinda have to, you know, do it, and hope like hell no one dies.

So. For those of you who think you can like, omigosh, so totally handle having a kid cuz maybe you’ve babysat a few times and your nieces and nephews seem to like you – read on. This is for you.

1. A baby is not a doll. You’re having a human, not a Barbie. And if you knew shit about kids, you’d know that the last thing you need is a plethora of cutesy little goddamn outfits, since a baby will just shit and puke all over them, then promptly get too big to wear any of it.

2. A baby is not a relationship Band-aid. Your marriage/partnership will not improve by bringing a human life in to the mix. My guess is it’s probably going to get worse because babies are stressful and exhausting. If your relationship is on the rocks, work that shit out before you drag an innocent child in to it.

3. A baby is not proof of your maturity. If you think it is, you’re not mature enough to have a baby.

4. A baby is not fun. Yeah, there are parts of parenthood that are fun. But in those early, formative months, it’s a lot of craziness, trial and error, questions, stress, confusion, worry, and sleepless nights. You aren’t going to have fun for a while, champ.

5. A baby is not temporary. Your life is changed now. You can’t just dump the kid off with someone and go about your pre-kid existence. You can’t party every weekend. You can’t party in the middle of the week. You don’t get to sleep 12 hours a day anymore. Your shitty minimum wage job will no longer cut it. Your child deserves all of you, they require the absolute best that you have to give.

6. A baby is not a dog. I shouldn’t even have to fucking say this. I don’t care how much you love your dog. I don’t care that your dog has pet insurance and is doted on and worshipped. I don’t care that you think dog owners have it harder because they don’t qualify for government assistance (yeah, I’ve actually heard these words come out of someone’s mouth). YOUR DOG IS NOT A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. PERIOD. IT IS NOT THE SAME. 

To help put this in perspective: Let’s say your apartment building is on fire. A baby is trapped inside. So is your dog. Now let’s say your best friend comes along. When given the choice between rescuing YOUR DOG and a STRANGER’S BABY most people are going to pick the baby. Yes, the fact that you take such good care of your pet is a good indicator that you’ll be good with a child. But if you think caring for a dog and caring for a baby are basically the same thing, you’re a fucking idiot.

7. A baby is not leverage. Pregnancy is not how you keep a man in a relationship. A child is not a pawn for use in your divorce/break up. If you think a child is a good way to manipulate people, you are a shitty person.

8. A baby will not grow up to be your best friend. It’s your child, not your buddy. You did not give birth to a minime. You gave birth to a goddamn individual. If you are still operating under the assumption that you won’t be like your parents, that you’ll let them wear what they want and talk how they want and do what they want, you are delusional. My kids’ grandmother put it best: “if your teenager doesn’t hate you at some point, you’re not doing your job as a parent.”

9. A baby is not a trophy. You are going to fuck up this kid. No matter what you do, you will do something wrong. And chances are, your kid is still going to be okay. If you have this grand idea in your head that feeding a kid only organic food and never letting them watch TV and making sure every hard surface in their life is covered in foam, you are totally missing the point of being a parent. A baby is not something you parade around and show off so everyone knows what a stellar person you are. You aren’t perfect. Your kid won’t be either. And that’s okay.

 

Please breed responsibly.

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How We’ll Spend Our Summer Vacation

It’s that time again! The kids are out of school! Time to entertain them every second of the next 90 goddamn days.

Here’s a list of fun summer activities you can engage in. No. Really. They’re fun. I swear.

Bring liquor.

 

Water Parks

Because I know nothing gets me out of bed quicker than the knowledge that I will spend the next eight hours in wet clothes traipsing around a concrete jungle of slides in the blistering heat making sure my kids don’t drown in the pee-tainted waters. Oh you’re hungry? Why yes, I’d love to buy you a $14 grilled cheese sandwich. Thirsty? Let me just take out a second mortgage on the house so I can buy you bottled water. A souvenir? Yes, because nothing says “I had a great time!” like a $50 stuffed dolphin the size of my fist.

 

barbecue“Talking to you makes me want to kill myself!”

Barbecues

You mean you want me to invite over a shit ton of people so they can eat my food, play in my yard, shit in my toilet, drink all my beer, awkwardly mingle with me, instruct me on the proper way to cook a burger, and in return I shall receive boatloads of store bought potato salad and extremely unappetizing dips? And I get to clean up by myself? Where the fuck do I sign up?

Fireworks

Nothing says summertime like sitting in itchy grass surrounded by bugs and drunks, waiting an hour and a half for 15 minutes of colorful explosions which my children will lose interest in after about ten minutes and then ask if they can play Fruit Ninja on my phone.

bro“Bro, do you even bro, bro?”

The Beach

Sometimes you wake up on a Saturday and think to yourself, “I really feel like it’s a good day to pack up half the linen closet and 2/3 of the refrigerator, load that shit in the trunk, get the kids in swimsuits, drive to a public swimming locale, pay $10 for parking, haul all that down to the shore, slather the kids in lotion, and send them on their way so you can witness the parade of thong sporting club girls navigating the sand in strappy gold heels and frat boys in plaid shorts and flip flops chugging beer and tossing their cans on the ground like assholes.

Amusement Parks

For those times that going to a water park, where you can at least cool off in a mixture of urine and chlorine, just doesn’t adequately fulfill our desire to be fucking miserable. For those times, locate your nearest overpriced, overrated, overcrowded land-o-fun, fork over half your salary for the month, and let the misery begin.

roadtrip“I’m going to smother each and every one of you.”

Road Trips

Is there some place you’ve always wanted to visit but you feel that getting there quickly and comfortably is for sissy bitches? Why not cram the fam in to the car, fill every available space with luggage and snacks, and spend the next week slowly learning to hate all of the people you live with?

 

Slogans for the American Public School System

So after reading this:

cursive-response

 

   I decided to make these:

steuhs

adhd

bully

classroom

crowded

lockers

lunch

metaldetector

 

 

 

 

Parentspeak – Because You Can’t Tell A Preschooler to Go Fuck Themselves

You may not have picked up on this, but I tend to be pretty blunt.

I’ve also heard the words “asshole” and “fiery bitch-demon” used to describe me, but those just seem rude.

But you can’t really be blunt with kids, at least not in most regards, because you risk pissing on their childhood, destroying their dreams, or tip-toeing in to the realm of verbal abuse. But you can certainly think those things, and those without kids will be none the wiser.

I’ve compiled a list of the most common parental statements and their literal meanings. Because lol, that’s why.

 

What We Say: Are you sure that’s a good idea?

What We Mean: That is literally the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

 

What We Say: Please don’t make me ask you again.

What We Mean: By all means, make me ask you again. It’s about time you learn what crippling fear feels like.

What We Say: You can’t just eat cookies all day. It’s not good for you.

What We Mean: You’re going to get fat. Like, super fat. Like, grease the doorways fat.

 

What We Say: I don’t know. Ask your father/mother

What We Mean: GO. AWAY.

 

What We Say: What are you doing?

What We Mean:  What are you fucking up?

 

What We Say: You’re so beautiful.

What We Mean: Thank god I don’t have ugly kids.

 

What We Say: What a pretty picture!

What We Mean: Is that a chipmunk in a poncho punching William Shatner? What the fuck did you draw?

 

What We Say: It’s time to start calming down.

What We Mean: Shut the fuck up.

 

What We Say: Time to get ready for bed!

What We Mean: SWEET FREEDOM IS NEARLY MINE!

 

What We Say: That kid just isn’t very nice.

What We Mean: I should punch that little fucker in the face for hurting your feelings.

 

What We Say: You can’t do that – it’s not safe.

What We Mean: Jesus Christ, will you please stop trying to die?!

 

What We Say: I am very upset with you right now.

What We Mean: You have made me so furious that I might literally shit a ball of fire.

Truths I’ve Told My Children

1. Why did Aunt Cassy marry a girl and a not a boy?

Because girls can love girls, and boys can love boys, and if you love someone and wanna marry them then that’s what you do.

2. There’s a girl in my class whose face looks different. How come?

Some kids are born different. All kids are born special. Treat her just like you would anyone else – that’s all she really wants anyway.

3. Why are your boobs so much bigger than mine?

Because Mommy uses her boobs to feed babies and to fill out V-neck sweaters.

4. How come our puppy had to die?

Things don’t die, they just become a different kind of energy. You can’t see it, but everything will eventually float back up to the stars so the universe can decide what they’ll become next. There are no endings – only infinite beginnings.

5. Do I have to grow up?

On the outside, yes. On the inside? That’s up to you.

6. Can I just live with you and daddy forever?

Let me put it this way: when you graduate high school, your graduation gift will be luggage and moving boxes.

 

Also, check out https://drivingmisty.wordpress.com/2014/05/22/lies-ive-told-my-children/

Lies I’ve Told My Children

1. Eat your vegetables.
I was watching a show on TV where they changed the voice of a person they were interviewing. Guin came into the room and asked why his voice sounded like that.
Kyle replied, “That’s what happens when you don’t eat your vegetables.”

2. Where do babies come from?
I managed to incorporate my own beliefs by telling them that all babies start as a star. Then they pick a mommy, turn into a shooting star, and fly into the mommy’s tummy while she’s sleeping.

3. What happened to my pet fish?
We accidentally bought the wrong fish at the store. We got a Seussfish, and those kinds of fish sometimes
grow wings, then fly out of the bowl and back to the ocean.

4. Did you drink my chocolate milk?
“No.”
“Did too.”
“I did not.”
“You still have milk on your face, Mommy.”

5. Why can’t I sleep during the day and stay awake at night?
Because you’ll turn into a vampire.

6. (While stalling at bedtime) Daddy, what’s your favorite dinosaur?
A gotosleepasaurus.

Being Pregnant Sucks and You Know It

I am in the middle of growing my third human right now, and I must say I’m pretty goddamn good at it. Shit, I’m so good at it that the first time I did it, I grew TWO of them. AT THE SAME TIME. *high fives self*

But I’m not going to bullshit you around like some of these other pregnant broads and tell you it’s a joyous and beautiful and fulfilling experience. It fucking blows, ya’ll.

I mean, it’s joyous and beautiful and shit, too, totally. But oh my GOD, it is rough.

Which is why I can’t help but roll my eyes at these chicks who feel compelled to act like pregnancy is this glorious experience and everything with them is perfect, wonderful, maaarvelous.

Bitch, you LIE.

Here’s why.

1. You’re fat.

Whether you gain it everywhere or just in your belly, you will reach a point where you are basically a rounded vessel of baby-growing. And it. Is. HORSESHIT.

Suddenly, dropping a pen on the floor from a standing position is enough to ruin your goddamn day. Can’t find the remote? Fuck it, guess we’re watching this teeth whitening infomercial. And that little black dress? Yeah. That’s now a plaid bathrobe covered in remnants of Haagan Das and tears.

2. You’re not sure why you’re crying.

It might be because you stubbed your toe, or remembered the goldfish that died when you were six, or maybe your husband sneezed and it scared you a little. Either way, you’re sad goddamnit, and someone needs to bring you a fucking cupcake and some tissue. Immediately.

3. Goodbye, things that are awesome.

Sushi? Nope! Martini?You’ll have a glass of water. Passing around a joint? Bitch, please.

Hey, remember staying up until 1AM and playing Skyrim? Of course not. Your bedtime is 8:30 now.

4. WHY IS EVERYTHING SO HARD?!

Dude. I just want to shave my fucking legs, okay? Like, without heaving and grunting and running out of breath. Or, hey, you know what else would be cool? Taking off my bra without pain radiating through my swollen boobies. Jesus fuck, that is awful. I will also accept getting up off the couch on my own, wearing high heels down a flight of stairs, and, you know, standing up for extended periods of time.

5. Why, I’d love to discuss my lady parts with you, perfect stranger!

I’m not sure when my cervix become so goddamn interesting to people, but I am pretty much done being questioned about any and all parts of my vagina. I also do not care about YOUR vagina. I am not interested in anything that has come out of it, how long it took you to push it out, or how big the placenta was. I don’t care. Just leave me alone and let me finish this entire cheese platter.

6. That’s not glow, that’s sweat.

WHY IS IT ALWAYS SO GODDAMN HOT?! IT’S LIKE I’M LIVING IN HELL.

7. Pee.

I can’t even think of any clever title for this bit. Just…pee. So much. Constant pee. I pee before and after I pee. If I see a faucet, I have to pee. If I think of the letter P, I have to pee. That is my life. Eat, sleep, pee.

8. I don’t want your stupid advice.

Please shut up. I’ve done this before. Even if I hadn’t done this before, why in the hell would I take advice from a stranger I met checking out at Target? How do I know your kid isn’t a serial killer, or worse, really fucking stupid?