Let me tell you about the nut job mothers I have met and continue to grace my presence since I became a mother 18 months ago.
They're too fat, so they say.
I'm too thin, attractive, confident, so they say.
The woman who seethes with jealousy because I'm pregnant with my second child and her husband refuses to have another one ... of course she seethes with jealousy over virtually everything to do with me, she saw a sweater I was wearing once and literally asked me for it. Then she wanted the winter boots I recently bought so she went out and bought a duplicate pair. I fear coming home to a boiling pot of rabbit stew.
The same crazy broad fumes that I've only gained twelve pounds during my second pregnancy -- never mind it's mostly because I've been so ill with morning sickness for the entire nine months. Thankfully my baby is perfectly healthy and has consistently measured big and is merely taking everything I have to offer, which is as it should be.
As crazy as she is, these loons are my favorite: the mothers who don't breastfeed but, lie about it. I met a mother who toted around bottles of soy milk and passed it off as breast milk, I have no idea why she fessed up to her great caper but, I wish I never met her and could not get rid of her fast enough.
The mothers who say hello, I say hello back and that is the last time my voice is heard. These boring, vapid women who absolutely can not stop talking about themselves and drone on and on and on ... I've gotten up and walked away and they're still talking and talking and talking and talking and talking. They have absolutely nothing interesting to say but, they do love to talk about their boring selves.
These mothers are like a blaring, TALKING sign proclaiming: I AM INSECURE.
Holy God.
Instead of being open and honest with one another about their fears and insecurities and building a support network of fellow mothers to help uplift each other these wacko mothers create a false facade of perfection. They spend all their energy competing with and cutting down other women in order to feel better about their own insanity and their stupid little chaotic,empty lives.
Makes me pine for the days when all my friends were men.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
BACK OFF!
It's a grey day, bitterly cold and snowing outside, the perfect day to take my son to the local indoor kids play area.
The drama starts early.
A sweet little blonde girl flies into her father's lap with fear on her face and tears streaking down her cheeks.
"What happened?" her father asks.
"That boy roared at me like a dragon and scared me!" the little girl whimpers. The boy is either 5 or 15 years old, it's hard to tell because kids are big these days -- my own son is 17 months and is the size of a three year old.
Her father does nothing and looks over at Michele, the owner for help and Michele says she didn't see what happened and then he looks at me and I apologize and make the same statement.
I didn't see nothing but, isn't it funny and cute that the little boy thinks he's a dragon!
Oh! How adorable!
That poor little girl.
I soon found out that the dragon is in actuality a demon possessed boy who would strike fear into the heart of a seasoned street thug.
My son was his next victim however, I suspect my son will be his last after my reaction, that's if that crazed dinosaur know's what's good for him.
It all started out innocent enough, my boy saw some unattended toys he wanted to play with and he toddled over to check it out.
The boy who would be a dragon sees my son entering his lair and begins to fly at my baby boy with his arms flailing about his head like an ape in heat and screeching at the top of his lungs while lunging forward and displaying a menacing look on his face that would make grown men soil themselves.
My mothers reaction was visceral and swift and exactly what they teach in those self-defense classes on Oprah. You know the one's where the guy is dressed in enough padding to take a Jimmy Choo in the eye and feel nothing?
This lunatic dragon-child was displaying such menace and threat that I puffed myself up to my full 5foot5 and a half frame, extended my shooting arm and pointed right at his head and screamed "BACK OFF!"
Well ... would you believe this little demon of darkness kept lunging at my petrified, frozen in place, speechless child?
So, I took a forceful step forward and began repeating "BACK OFF!BACK OFF!" until the future serial killer finally heard me through his haze of blood thirst and he did what I told him to do:
BACK THE FUCK OFF MY CHILD.
My son comes over to me for a hug and a kiss with a stricken look on his face and I am feeling like I just fought off a mugger in a back alley.
Holy Lord, no one tells you about this part of motherhood.
I no longer wonder or ask why the world is such a disaster: look at the children and their nasty ass mothers sitting on their obese ass and their over bleached hair telling little Johnny half-heartedly to put the knife down.
The drama starts early.
A sweet little blonde girl flies into her father's lap with fear on her face and tears streaking down her cheeks.
"What happened?" her father asks.
"That boy roared at me like a dragon and scared me!" the little girl whimpers. The boy is either 5 or 15 years old, it's hard to tell because kids are big these days -- my own son is 17 months and is the size of a three year old.
Her father does nothing and looks over at Michele, the owner for help and Michele says she didn't see what happened and then he looks at me and I apologize and make the same statement.
I didn't see nothing but, isn't it funny and cute that the little boy thinks he's a dragon!
Oh! How adorable!
That poor little girl.
I soon found out that the dragon is in actuality a demon possessed boy who would strike fear into the heart of a seasoned street thug.
My son was his next victim however, I suspect my son will be his last after my reaction, that's if that crazed dinosaur know's what's good for him.
It all started out innocent enough, my boy saw some unattended toys he wanted to play with and he toddled over to check it out.
The boy who would be a dragon sees my son entering his lair and begins to fly at my baby boy with his arms flailing about his head like an ape in heat and screeching at the top of his lungs while lunging forward and displaying a menacing look on his face that would make grown men soil themselves.
My mothers reaction was visceral and swift and exactly what they teach in those self-defense classes on Oprah. You know the one's where the guy is dressed in enough padding to take a Jimmy Choo in the eye and feel nothing?
This lunatic dragon-child was displaying such menace and threat that I puffed myself up to my full 5foot5 and a half frame, extended my shooting arm and pointed right at his head and screamed "BACK OFF!"
Well ... would you believe this little demon of darkness kept lunging at my petrified, frozen in place, speechless child?
So, I took a forceful step forward and began repeating "BACK OFF!BACK OFF!" until the future serial killer finally heard me through his haze of blood thirst and he did what I told him to do:
BACK THE FUCK OFF MY CHILD.
My son comes over to me for a hug and a kiss with a stricken look on his face and I am feeling like I just fought off a mugger in a back alley.
Holy Lord, no one tells you about this part of motherhood.
I no longer wonder or ask why the world is such a disaster: look at the children and their nasty ass mothers sitting on their obese ass and their over bleached hair telling little Johnny half-heartedly to put the knife down.
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