Last spring my life changed drastically enough that if I wasn’t on social media (and a horrible liar) I could have told a believable story about entering a witness protection program. I went from being a city loving, Designer label obsessed, full time working career woman, to moving to a town 3 hours away from the nearest Trader Joe’s and staying home nearly 24/7 to sing nursery rhymes and read 5-paged board books. Turns out you can shed your caterpillar skin for butterfly wings more than once in your life. I view this big life change as Part Deux of what we’ll call my Mom Metamorphosis.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Saturday, November 1, 2014
I follow a parenting blog that annoys the hell out of me. I completely agree with the philosophy, and find much of the information presented helpful, so I’ve always wondered what it is that rubs me the wrong way. I figured it out one day. An article was posted along the lines of “Your baby isn’t the asshole, you are,” and it targeted the evil parents who use words like asshole to describe their children for behaving like children. I read the humorless, angry article and my initial thought was “maybe you’re the asshole, lady.” Was I feeling defensive or ashamed because I have admittedly used the term when writing or talking about my children? I spent a few minutes contemplating how much of an asshole I am. I could fill a large bucket with ways I do indeed qualify as an asshole, but tweeting that “I can’t tell if my baby is teething or just an asshole” isn’t really one of them. What bothered me wasn't just the need to defend the use of profanity in reference to my children, it was that this lady was attacking my right to take parenting lightly.
|You're not an asshole, but your behavior is reminiscent of the way an asshole might behave in this situation.|