What I did on my summer mom-cation... Part 1

As some of you may know, I spent the last 4 weeks caring for my husband's children. And as most of you are aware, I have the maternal instincts of an amphibian and as such have received many requests for updates (or more correctly, debriefings) on the experience from curious friends (read: schadenfreude) .

So here is the first part of my general observations on children and parenting. I'll start with the part I like least: Parents.



WARNING: Overly sensitive Mom-bots stop reading here. While it isn't my intended goal, I will gladly accept your offense as a bonus.



1) Most people have children for all the wrong reasons if they even bother having a reason at all.

Of course, this assumes that there could exist anything so compelling that one would give up freedom, vaginal elasticity and disposable income. When questioned, most people will confess to never having given the "why" a second thought. It was simply a foregone conclusion. Or they expected a child to give them purpose or save their marriage or be an extension of their lives. Which brings us to ...

2) Having children is a privilege, not a right.

Much like wearing Spandex, people assume that if they can, they should. And that sense of entitlement carries over to how they deal with their lives as parents. So, on behalf of everyone who knows a "Martyr Mom"...


3)Raising kids is supposed to be hard-STOP BITCHING

Once upon a time, children were the unfortunate price of sexual pleasure and were treated as such. Now that children are a choice, if not a luxury, people have this outrageously romanticized view of child rearing and children in general. Your experience, Saint Mommy of the Suburb, is not unique: diapers have always smelled, babies are supposed to cry and those gorgeous, engorged breasts in the La Leche League poster don't look like any mommy outside of LA. Get over it! You made this choice, and if it was uninformed that is squarely on you. Your hubris made you choose to take on the job of a god and create life and dump on it a crowded, fucked up planet. Seriously, how easy could you think it was going to be? You don't deserve any sympathy for dealing with the conditions of a commitment you freely took on. And your "sacrifice" does not oblige your kids so adjust your expectations of them too! By which I mean...

4) Get a life: your children are busy trying to live their own

Once the umbilical cord is cut that individual ceases to be a part of you and is...an individual! Ta Da! And anyone who says "my children are my whole life" is automatically suspect. If that's the case then, what were you before and what do you bring to the table for them? They're giving you a reason to exist but what do they get in return? A child's identity is not an extension, nor their life a sequel, of his or her parents'. Your kid is not your opportunity to right past wrongs or fix what's broken in you. If you couldn't play piano chances are little Mary won't either. What do famous performers Billy Joel, Mariah Carey and Alicia Keyes have in common? All had mothers who were opera singers. If you weren't one too, stop expecting your kids to live out your frustrated dreams of Carnegie Hall. And forget about them being your personal fan club. If you don't like yourself chances are they aren't going to like you much either. If you are incapable of creating and maintaining relationships in your life it is absolute lunacy to think that genetics and filial piety will somehow guarantee they'll stick around once they don't need you. And speaking of jumping ship...

5) Your children are no guarantee that your marriage will last-nor is that their job.

They didn't take vows or make commitments. Your marriage started as, hopefully is, and should always remain, a romantic relationship between two adults. Children are the product of this union-not its reason for existing. If you've forgotten how to bring sexy back, I assure you that no toddler will bring it for you. I've actually heard it said that children "cement" a marriage. Only if you mean cement in the same context as the mob. Children should carry a warning label: "Marital Solvent-add 1 kid and distance one spouse, continue adding kids to remove spouse completely". And this extends to your other relationships a well, to wit...

6) My not having children is not a reflection on your life choices and I am not a freak for choosing to live my life without kids.

Stop holding your lifestyle up to mine like you're trying to match a bag and a pair of shoes. If you had a child for the purposes of validating your existence you are the worst kind of piece of shit and your kids should pull a "Menendez Brothers" on you post- haste. If you and I had a friendship based on our mutual interests, similar tastes or just proximity to the same bar, why would you assume that I want the topic of every conversation to about your new addition? And where is the reciprocity? The highway runs both ways-I shouldn't always have to drive to see you. Or have smoke-, booze- and curse-free poker games that start at 2 and end at 9. No I don't have a fucking car seat and if you ruin my interiors strapping that hipness-repellent in my car I will "accidentally" run over Junior in the driveway. I buy your kid gifts year, after long suffering year, and you forget my birthday like clockwork-how the hell is that fair? And so finally, on behalf of everyone who knows you...

7) Seriously-shut the fuck up about your sainted motherhood, and your fucking kid already and furthermore stop expecting the world to make allowances for your choices.

Wanna be a doctor? Study for umpteen years!
Wanna be a lawyer? Study for umpteen years and sell your soul!
Want a title that imparts you an indentity if you couldn't develop one, instant respect if you couldn't earn it and veneration as paragon of virture regardless how big a loser/bimbo you were before AND requires no more effort to earn than access to functioning plumbing and bad luck? Be a mother! Come on now-Billy Mays couldn't dream up a better offer than that!

Getting knocked up earns you exactly zero in my eyes. Call me when your kid is 35, earning a Noble Prize (after you won yours) and still comes to your house on Easter/Passover. Then and only then, I'll be impressed. .

As for the process of getting from brat to Beethoven: spare us all the details. I promise you nobody cares about your kid's sleeping, crawling, walking, talking, shitting-on-command prowess (in that order). Or cheese-dick art work. Or painfully boring and commonplace psuedo-acheivements like 4th place in the Pee Wee Football League (thank you for sponsoring that slice of hell, fucking Kiwanis). Seriously, none of that matters to anyone but you-and it shouldn't. But you have to have a life of your own and grant others room in it if want any real adult relationship to exist. And if you have allowed your world to be reduced to the minutiae of someone else's life, that is your problem and your pity! Leave me out of it. Now re-read number 4; their achievements are NOT yours. So get a life.

Roald Dahl was right: the worst thing about kids is parents.

Stay tuned for Part 2 in the coninuing saga of Step-Monster Summer