Pre kids, it’s called being a b-i-t-c-h. Post kids, it’s called being a Mitch. Get it!? Mom +b-i-t-c-h = Mitch! (it’s not cussing if I spell it out like that) It doesn’t matter if you have offspring or not, this post is for you. Do you remember before you had kids or if you don’t have them or want them whatevs, how you said things like “my child will never eat processed foods,” or “my baby will always look so cute!” “I would never let my kid eat off a restaurant table.” Yeah, me too. What a heifer. IT. IS. EXHAUSTING. PEOPLE. It’s exhausting to constantly be aware that other Mom’s, women, children, men, someones Aunt is observing and judging you (Eye roll + sassy face). I whole heartedly want to sit here and type on about how you shouldn’t care what people think and do you and all that jazz but I can’t. The truth is I am always aware and always questioning myself. As if I didn’t already have enough stress in my life trying to keep another human alive and thriving.
Ok, so to break this down:
If you don’t have kids…just shut your face. Unless you’re a professor in child raising or have had extended teachings on what’s best for a baby in 2019, just keep your sleep filled thoughts to yourself. I was this person. I was judgey AF every time I heard a baby cry in public. I said things to myself like “omg are you going to tend to your child or just let them scream?” “Can you not take the time to clean that poor kids face off?” “Why are there stains all over that shirt, do you not care what your kid looks like?” Don’t even get me started on kids and electronics. Oh yeah, I want to slap myself too. I was terrible. And for the one’s who had more than one child and one was running around screaming and carrying on, I know the look on my face was anything but supportive and understanding. What a naive know it all I was.
Flash forward to today where I have my very own bundle of beautiful hot mess and my baby eats puffs off the floor and loves Hotel Transylvania 3 on the iPad. She has one of my old phones and carries it around by the pop-socket. #rotten.
When we venture out of the house, sometimes she looks super cute with a bow and stainless clothing. Other times she looks like she’s been riding in the back of a farm truck eating dirt. You can only imagine how I look. I haven’t put makeup on since Easter pictures and I wash my hair maybe twice a week. I go to Target to visit my tribe of other moms who feel my pain and share my love for pouch food and anything that makes noise to distract/entertain.
So this is just a reminder to all of us that we don’t know sh*t. I’m learning as I go. What the hell did I know before I had a baby? Nothing. Why did I think it was ok to have a sassy look on my face while judging these mama’s? Bless my heart. I hate that I was that kind of woman who thought she knew more than the one who was down in the trenches making it happen. I do the best I can every day. Some days I have it together and drink my coffee hot, other days I wonder what I have gotten myself into and how will I be able to successfully function for the next 18 years while walking around with half wet puffs stuck to my shirt. We go to Target to keep ourselves sane, y’all. We give the baby that iPad so we can exhale and pee really quick. For those of you who are the kind of Mama who looks fantastic for every outing and feeds your baby all organic foods with no screen time involved anywhere, hit me up and teach me your ways. But if you give me another dirty look in Wal-Mart, I’m going to rub sticky old food on your white pants. Oh yes, I’m that petty. Let’s do better. Let’s show up for one another and pickup that sippy cup off the floor for that Mama who’s child has thrown it thirteen times and you can tell she’s about to have a panic attack.
I know you’re doing the best you can too, I see you.
Cheers to you! – Lana