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Wednesday, February 26, 2014


If I could market whatever scent I emit when I sit down to, oh, eat, pay bills, or poop, the one that instantly attracts my children to me and makes them want to climb on my lap and snuggle at that exact moment...if I could do that and sell it to desperate people looking for a date, I would totally be a gazillionare and I would make Bill Gates clean my toilets with his toothbrush.

Seriously.  These children will ignore me until the exact second after I become not involved with trying to engage them in any given activity.  The nanosecond after my mind shifts from them to caring for, say, my basic needs, some kind of automatic honing device that was implanted in their brains at birth goes off.  They then feel the need to follow me around like a lovesick hound dog (minus the leg humping).

"Enjoy it while you can", they say.  "It goes by so fast and one day you will wish they were there doing that", they say.  First of all, who the fuck is the nebulous "they" that has so much to say?  Ever stop to think that there is a reason "they" are anonymous?  Yeah, it's probably because they give really shitty advice.  Enjoy being pawed at like a cat while I am trying to eat?  Enjoy someone climbing on my lap while I'm on the can?  Enjoy a child climbing on my lap, almost knocking my laptop off and causing me to spill my coffee down the front of my shirt while engaged in the already stressful job of "paying bills" (AKA, pretending that I have enough money to pay all the bills). 

I am sorry, but there are other things from my children's childhood I will enjoy.  I will enjoy the dancing in the living room.  I will enjoy the times they want to do my hair.  I will enjoy jumping on the trampoline with them.  I will enjoy the dance recitals, the art shows, the school performances and parties.

I refuse to fucking enjoy the fact that they instantly want my attention the moment I become engrossed in a task that has nothing to do with them.  Goddammit, pooping is a one man (or woman) job.  I don't need company for it.  In fact, I prefer to be alone.  And I do not require cuddling to get me to eat my veggies.  I can do that on my own as well.

The book "I'll Love You Forever" gets a bit of a bad rap.  Mostly because of the crazy helicopter parenting that goes on in there.  Seriously, B&E to get into your son's house when he is a grown ass man just to sing him that song?  That's a whole new level of crazy I can only dream of attaining one day.  But stop to think about that shit for a minute.

Paybacks, mothafuckers.  All those times when those kids crawled into bed with me at night cause "they want to cuddle?"  (Sleeping...another thing I prefer to do without help.) Better lock your windows as adults, girls.  Mama's getting herself some vengeance.

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