Swearing

I have a sailor's mouth.  I am absolutely serious.  I have a horrible yet fully satisfying relationship with swear words.

Come on, who wouldn't want to be this guy?

I'll never remember the feeling of walking around with my second grade friends, having one of them "teach" us how to swear on the playground, during recess, at school (shout out to Hamlin Elementary!) Now, I am not sure how we got away with that.  I will say that it was the 80's and the point of recess was to let us run wild, twice a day, no less, for 15 minutes with little to no supervision...and we liked it that way!  My point is, I learned to swear at school, and I studied that shit like a motherfucking ninja.

Unfortunately, this was my idea of a Ninja at the time.

The first time that all of those hours of studying came in handy in my early life was about a year later, in the winter, when I was in 3rd grade.  I was being tortured by two boys in my class, who would wait for me by the side of the road on my walk home, and pelt me with ice and snow balls.  This happened day after day, until I snapped.  

I loaded up my backpack with every single textbook I had in my desk.  I walked home, unassumingly, playing Paula Abdul in my Walkman, and I let them pelt me with ice balls. 

Then, the revenge came.  I calmly took off my backpack, and attacked them with it, bludgeoning them mercilessly.  One of the boys ran off,presumably embarrassed that he had been outsmarted by a girl, and then there was only one left.  I took down that second boy with a quick backpack to the head, followed by my hysterical scream "You're a little BITCH!"  Then I laughed maniacally, left him in the snow bank and walked home.

Later, that night, my mom got a call from his mom, where she had to sit through his mother complaining about my foul language, and how I had attacked her son.  After I explained the situation to her, she told me that she supported my backpack revenge, but that the swearing was inappropriate.  I had to apologize.  

I am SO FUCKING SORRY you're a little Bitch.

 To this day, that was one of my more triumphant moments because I actually stood up to a bully.  And, because it's a fucking badass story.   And that, my friends, is why swearing is awesome.

Perfectly Imperfect Parenting

Yo, moms, let's have a little talk.  When I was a teenager and watching informational movies in school, the  cool guy would always turn a chair around, straddle it, and say:

"Let's Have a Rap Session"

No...not exactly what I had in mind.

Just for giggles, do an image search of "straddle chair."  Enjoy

Back to our little talk.  We are in a time and place where most moms come into motherhood after having been college students, then professionals.  We have approached our careers, both school and work, as a process, where you learn what to do, how to study, have a path and follow it.  You work hard.  You follow the rules and make the sacrifices and, eventually and most of the time, you are rewarded.  You now have a new position, a new career path, and people appreciate what you have accomplished.

It is my opinion (and therefore the truth) that this has completely screwed our generation when it comes to our expectations of ourselves when it comes to parenting.

 When you are a mom, you are on your own.  Yes.  On. Your. Own.

Let that sink in for a second.  All of the habits and skills you have worked so hard to hone your whole adult life will not matter at all.  This position is so different from anything you have ever done before that it will almost certainly send you into a tailspin-not necessarily into depression (although that is very serious, and you can find more information here) but into something that is also very troubling:  Severe Overeducation Syndrome.  I Just Made That Up!

You know what I mean, Hell, I am even guilty of it myself!  You decide that there will be the method to raise your children, you will not deviate, they will do what you want, and will be the perfect specimen that you work so hard to grow.  I had many ideas.  I was the one who had books galore.  I had my whole schedule, etc.  Then I had a baby.  Not only did I have a baby, but I had a C-section because she was Frank Breach.  I couldn't breastfeed.  I had postpartum depression.  I was miserable and felt like a complete and utter failure.  I didn't understand why this was so hard.  You know why it was so hard?  I was sabotaging myself with my own expectations.

I know how to recognize it.  I know how it's going to turn out.  I know now not to say anything.  Whenever I hear about people reading, highlighting, studying a "method" of parenting I cringe.  If you are a mostly functional individual, you can raise children.  Let me clarify that.  If you are generally responsible, kind, loving, have a sense of humor and know the difference between right and wrong, you can raise kind, functional, funny, sweet children who know the difference between right and wrong.  

You can see where this would scare most professional women, and why it would scare most people.  

That's okay.  This is scary shit!

There are a few things you need to know:

• If you are worried about doing it right, you're probably a good parent.
• If you spend all of your time worried that you're doing it wrong, then researching, blaming, being miserable, you've taken a wrong turn.
• You need to RELAX!  
• No one method is going to work for you.  No one answer is going to work for you.  Children are people, people are complicated.  Life is complicated.  Be consistent, but be just. 
•  However, at some point you will be unjust towards your children.  You will make the wrong call.  Forgive yourself.

Enjoy your children.  They are awesome.  They prove that you can make a little miracle, and that you are capable on unconditional love.  That is amazing.  They show you more reasons to succeed and provide for them than you could ever have before you were a parent.  They can make you smile from your heart-that's the only way I can describe they way those grubby, sweaty little kisses feel.  They can drive you absolutely crazy,   and they can make you laugh at the same time.  

And, you can be sure, that, no matter what you do, you will be considered (possibly at the same time) the coolest, stupidest, funniest, hardest working, craziest person they have ever met.  And, if you have been even moderately good at parenting, they will love you more than anything else.

Except if you do this to them. 

If you want more information on the basics of being a good parent, check out this article.