Day 18: The Quirks Of Parenthood

If you're preparing to be a parent, everyone who already has kids seems to have the same advice, which is all along the lines of "It's a lot harder than you think" and/or "Your life will change forever". Looking back, I wish I had asked everyone who said either of those things to me to be more specific. Instead, I chose to ignore each and every one of them, mistakenly thinking that that was their experience, not mine. What can I say? I was high on hormones, anticipation, and ridiculous amounts of chocolate any time I wanted it. It was a lethal combination. You can't blame me for being impervious to reason.

Six years and two kids later, I know better. Your life really does change, and it changes in really weird little ways that you never would have expected. I'm sure that these experiences vary for everyone, but for the sake of blogging and coming down off of my week-long soap box, these are a few of the (many) parenting quirks that I wish someone had warned me about:

1) Some day you will have no shame. Eventually, you will sniff the air questionably, then lift up/bend over your kid, press your nose to their butt crack, and inhale sharply to see if it was your kid responsible for the questionable smell. That's right. You'll sniff their butts, you butt sniffer. And the weirdest part is, not a parent among us even thinks twice about doing it.

2) You will experience what it truly means to be chronically exhausted. I used to be fun once....I think. Possibly. And now when I hear my childless friends (or friends with older kids) talking about going out, I feel like the party pooper who may or may not have been fun at some point in her life. Friday nights used to be for going out, dressing up like hipsters, eating breakfast at midnight, talking about our dreams....but now it's mostly about yoga pants. Man, Taylor Swift must be so tired.

3) You will talk to adults like children. Because I am both a manners Nazi and a germaphobe, I encourage my kids to sneeze into their elbows. When I hear them winding up, I always call out "Elbows!" to remind them (I'm annoying because I care). The other day I was at the grocery store, sans kids, and reflexively yelled "Elbows!" into the face of a grown man, who looked to be in his mid-fifties or so, who was winding up to sneeze.  His lethal stank eye let me know that he did not appreciate the reminder. 

4) Going to the bathroom will become a group event. My sister-in-law and I just discussed this at length the other day and I was relieved to learn that I'm not the only one who has to beg for two minutes to go to the bathroom by herself.

5) Your pop culture references will become almost exclusively Disney/Pixar related. It's pretty bad. In fact,  I usually just pretend to know what people are talking about when it comes to anything related to movies, slang, or good new restaurants. I do a lot of smiling and nodding. Incidentally, when I'm alone with my family,  I'm known for saying really obnoxious things like "Oooh, this episode of Dora The Explorer is my favorite" which another unfortunate side effect of this life change.

6) Like it or not, you will turn into your mother. I truly don't think we can help this one, it's innate. No one thinks they could ever possibly turn into their parents and we try to rebel against it (even when we really like our parents), but the effort is fruitless. For example, I spent my entire childhood making fun of my mom for singing along with the songs that played overhead at the grocery store. I used to be mortified to round the corner and find my mom singing along with Billy Joel. I thought nothing in the world could ever be more embarrassing. Now I do it to my kids. And you know what? My mom is on to something, because embarrassing your kids is fun and Billy Joel kinda rocks.

7) Kids accidentally say really inappropriate things, especially when you're in public. Case in point, Ben decided to try out the hot tub the other day at the pool. Every time he lowered himself in, he bolted up and started yelling "My wiener, my wiener! It's warm on my wiener!" People stared. It was awkward.

8) You will experience endless jealousy over someone else's mundane day. Maybe it's just because I'm with kids all day long, but the second Josh gets home from work I practically attack him. It's not so much the work stories that I want to hear, it's more about the lack of details like two kids yelling "Stop copying me!" at each other 1,425,872,249 times a day.


9) Bodily functions are of no consequence and actually pretty funny. It's true, most parents I know wear their puked on, peed on, pooped on status in life as a badge of pride. Maybe it's because it's destined to happen to everyone at some point, but after awhile it's just becomes funny. In fact, I have a great projectile poop story that I look forward to telling Layla's first boyfriend.

10) Your kids will often make you feel like you have one foot in the grave. Every once in a while, my kids will get into something that I liked as a kid, I feel this wave of "Where am I and how did I get here?" My childhood seems so far away, so removed, that it feels like it isn't even my life. That it all happened to someone else. I feel old. It's weird.

But I totally understand if you don't want to believe me. I've been there. Enjoy your chocolate.

You Can't Please Everyone, So You've Got To Please Yourself

Wow. What a week.

I've been writing this blog for over a year now and during that time I've received very few complaints and any criticism I've been given has been both constructive and helpful. Friends and strangers alike have been supportive and encouraging and not a single person has ever been nasty or condescending. I've suspected for awhile that hearing nothing but good things was far too good to last, but I didn't suspect the good train would derail over something as miniscule as a popular series of books.

I can write about boobs, I can write about poop, I can write about women's rights and how I'm sick of women being called fat for not being a size zero. I can write about Osama Bin Laden, Government bailouts, and which politicians I would kick in the junk, given the opportunity. I've written about all of these things and more and no one has so much as batted an eyelash. But when I write about not liking a pathetically written, plot-less book trilogy suddenly all hell breaks loose.

Exactly one week ago when I posted my "Fifty Shades Of Oy Vey blog, I honestly didn't think much of it. In fact, my only real concern at the time was offending my sister-in-law, because she has a book review blog and I didn't want her to think I treading on her turf, so to speak. When she assured me that she understood my blog was less a book review and more of a manifesto against the bad books of the world, I proceeded to post with her blessing. I figured this would be one of those blogs that was more about me getting something that was bugging me off of my chest and less about how many people would read it. In fact, I wrote it thinking I would honestly be surprised if anyone other than my regular readers (who I love, by the way) even read it at all. I had no idea that this would be the blog that would finally piss people off. But piss them off it did and not a person in the world seemed shy about sharing their opinions with me.

I've learned over the years that the world is full of crazy people and nowhere is this fact more true than on the internet. Crazies come out in full force when protected by the cloak of internet anonymity and a real nut job can be hidden behind that cutesy Twitter handle with a Hello Kitty profile picture. Believe me, I know, because all of the Hello Kitty-loving crackpots in the internet world were out to get me this last week.

Because of the fact that nothing pleases a crazy person more than you instantly defending yourself, I decided to let the worst of my haters stew over their comments for awhile (assuming, of course that they hadn't moved on to harass someone new) while I composed my own responses, on my own time, on my own blog where I can delete any comments I don't like, if I were so inclined (maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh). Therefore, the following is my list of my top 3 favorite nonconstructive comments and my response to said comments:

1) "You're a talentless c**t!" (Via Twitter)
First of all, I'd love to say "Back at ya", but unlike the person who left this comment (anonymously at that) I like my criticism to be a little more creative. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but if you're aiming at insulting me, it might help to do it in a way that doesn't make me laugh at your complete and total lack of originality. Secondly, I have a number of faults and questionable personality traits (most of which I share openly and proudly on this very blog) but if there is one thing I know I'm not, it's talentless. I will toot the hell out of my own horn when it comes to this blog, loudly and unapologeticly. Better yet, I have some amazing friends who will even toot it for me. I may never be as famous as E.L. James or ever get a book deal of my own, but if it means I'm not writing crap, I'm more than okay with it.

2) "I'm going to tell everyone I know to read this blog so they all know how terrible it is!" (Via Twitter)
Attention people of the world: If you're looking for a way to insult a writer, the words "I'm going to tell everyone I know to read this" are not going to do the trick. I want people to read what I write. It is, after all, the main reason I have a blog to begin with. In fact, I feel like I owe this particular crazy a big, steaming bowl of gratitude for this comment. Thank you for encouraging people to read my work! You're super awesome! By the way, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that one of the main points of my '50 Shades' blog was that people love to read something controversial and people like the ones who left comments like this (yes, there were several) actually proved that point. If you really hated it, you wouldn't read it and you certainly wouldn't encourage anyone else to read it. Simple as that. As it is, the '50 Shades' blog is now my second most-viewed blog. So thanks again!

3) "You could live to be 100 and never write like E.L. James" (Via freelanced.com) 
That's the goal! I really couldn't agree more and thank you for putting it into words for me! Cheers!

The point of this blog is this: I've spent the better part of a year appreciating the praise and waiting in sweaty anticipation for the criticism. I figured the minute someone said something bad about my writing, no matter how much faith I have in it, I'd be so hurt that I'd instantly retreat to my car, blast Taylor Swift's "Mean"  and cry (now that I've admitted in writing that I might actually do this, this blog will self-destruct five seconds after you're done reading it). The real surprise was that I didn't feel like never blogging again just because some random internet idiot felt the need to defend these books with a few choice, mean words. I'd be a liar if I said this whole experience didn't make me wonder why people can't respect a simple difference of opinions, but for the most part these comments just made me laugh and roll my eyes. Maybe it's because the good words still outweigh the bad or because I have more faith in myself and my writing than I thought, but either way, it feels like a win.

I'm stronger than I thought I was and that, my friends, is a damn good feeling.