Posted in Parenting and Random Shit

Say It to Me, Not My Kids

If you have a child, you have experienced this.  It doesn’t matter if your child is 5 years old or 5 hours old.  Getting unsolicited advice, in and of itself, is, at minimum, annoying.  When, however, people try to disguise parenting critiques and advice as innocent conversations with my children, it makes me want to kick puppies.  First of all, did I accidentally put on my cone-shaped hat with the word “DUNCE” stenciled down the front or did you forget to wear yours?  When we were in the grocery store check out line and you looked at my infant son and said to him, in that annoying baby talk voice, “you should tell your mommy that you need to be wearing a hat”, are you so stupid that you expect him to relay this message to me or do you think that I am too stupid to recognize that you are critiquing me as a mother?

The thing is, this happens all the time.  Truth be told, my own mother does it.  (Don’t look so indignant, Mom.  You know you do it.  I love you anyways but, seriously, cut that shit out.)  Where strangers get off, though, dishing out parenting advice and criticism in general to people minding their own business, I will never know.  Why there are those that think it is acceptable if the criticism is delivered to children, in front of parents, is a total mystery.

For starters, haven’t these jackasses ever heard of how most parents try to teach their children NOT TO TALK TO STRANGERS?  Yet, it seems every time I take my kids anywhere, strangers are trying to strike up conversations with them.  Honestly, I don’t really mind it, within reason.  What has always shocked me, though, is how many strangers have offered my children CANDY!  Two major rules of thumb: Don’t talk to strangers and don’t take candy from strangers, being broken by adults and right in front of my face.  No, lady!  You can keep your candy!  And not just because I fear my 11 month old would choke to death on that peppermint but also because if my kid needs a snack, I am not going to go looking for a handout from some stranger in the auto shop waiting area.

A little insight: my 2-year-old could not care less about what his hair looks like.  Even if he gave a shit, he is incapable of transporting himself to or scheduling a hair appointment.  I am his mother and his father and I have decided that we think his little, long bowl cut is absofuckinglutely adorable.  So, the next time you are taking my order at Denny’s and the urge overtakes you to lean over and say to my toddler, “Oh my!  When are you going to get your hair cut”, don’t get upset when I shank you.

You cannot tell me that this is not one of the cutest kids you have ever seen in your life.

The next time you are standing in the checkout line and you tell my daughter, “Your mommy shouldn’t let you bite your nails or you’ll get worms”, don’t be surprised when I turn to your husband, standing next to you, and say “Your wife should mind her own damn business or she is gonna get her ass kicked in Wal-Mart.”

If you think my kid needs a nap, chances are I am aware that he needs a damn nap.  Don’t talk to my kid to inform him that his mommy needs to get him home for a nap.  He will adamantly disagree and now you have made the next five minutes of my life a little more of a hell because you said the “n” word to his face and he is going to express his opposition to your suggestion in the form of a Level II meltdown.  You say it again, and it escalates to a Level IV/Code Red and I will be forced to respond violently.  You just better hope it is not my nap time when you pull this shit. 

If it bothers you that my 5-year-old opted out of socks with his tennis shoes, keep it to yourself.  If you say to him in a “wittle” voice with “wittle” words that his mommy should go get him some socks, I am going to give you a “wittle” kick in the taco.

Mind your own business, people.  You can go have your own kids and be a perfect parent and raise perfect kids.  Please don’t interrupt me while I am busy screwing mine up completely with long hair and stinky shoes. 

Author:

I am a stay at home mother with 4 children. I drink a lot of wine and curse like a sailor.

17 thoughts on “Say It to Me, Not My Kids

  1. don’t get upset when I shank you.
    Bwahaha!

    I love all of this. Every little bit.

    I’d actually, just this morning, created a little graphic with these words:
    “Good parenting: Building up your kids, NOT tearing up other parents”

    Seems like it should be pretty freakin’ simple!

    Like

  2. I would be a total hypocrite to tell you that I’ve never had some of these exact thoughts – being that I’m actually my kids Sunday school teacher- I can’t exactly go around decking people in the Walmart- but it doesn’t mean that I don’t sometimes want to.

    btw- I love the hair. I have 3 little boys who have sported a similar “beach boy” look & it drives my parents nuts.

    Like

  3. Unbefuckingleavable, the sense of entitlement of some people! If I was going around telling everyone (or their kids) what I was thinking about them I wouldn’t have any time left to read your blog here, and that would be a crying shame!

    Like

  4. Omg… I encountered this recently. I took my boys to the local BBQ joint in our one traffic light town because there were no groceries in the house. My 6 year old is quite sturdy and about the same size as my 8 year old. An older gentlemen asked if they were twins. I told him they are 21 months apart. He asked if the 6 year old was the oldest. I told him no, he was the youngest. He then had the nerve to turn to my child and say “Wow, looks like mommy needs to cut down on what you eat.” Are you kidding me??? Is there a planet that this would be acceptable on? I couldn’t think of a response that would be anywhere close to appropriate in front of my children, so I procured his place in hell with my patented evil death ray stare abd texted my mom to see if she had the bail money ready in case U could convince the boys that they both needed to go to the bathroom in the next couple minutes…

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  5. OMG, the things people think they can say to utter STRANGERS. I work retail, right? A man and woman are my next customers; he says to me (I couldn’t make this up if I tried), “Has anyone ever told you you look like Mrs. Doubtfire?” WTF squared! Not caring if I have smoke billowing out my ears, I reply, “No, no one has ever been that BLOODY RUDE!” He backpedals, telling me it’s supposed to be a compliment – yeah, right, because telling me that I look like an ugly man in drag just puts the fucking cherry on top of my day! Asshole!

    BTW, I’ve just started reading your blog. You’re awesome – your post about your son being a marksman with his PENIS! had me laughing so hard I had to leave the room to calm down. If anyone ever offers you a lucrative book deal, I hope you can take him/her up on it, because you are a wonderful writer AND you tell the truth.

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    1. They thought that was a compliment? Holy fuck! I’m glad to hear that you let him know what an egregious error he had made.

      Thanks for the compliment. I am actually trying to navigate the ins and outs of getting a publishing deal!

      Like

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