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Because You’re Not a Parent

Before I had punks I laughed at the ridiculous crap parents used to do. I always thought that I’d be such a cooler parent than the ones I witnessed looking like complete douche bags in public, and I’d do a much better job at parenting. Let’s face it, parenting is 100% easier when you aren’t actually a parent. Now, I spend 57% at my day looking like a total idiot, all because I’m a mom. (The remaining 43% is based solely on my own awkwardness and is completely unrelated to my punks.)

These days I spend a lot of time looking at poop and discussing what it looks like. Turns out, most of the time it looks like headless monsters. Dr. Oz would really be disappointed in my punks because they poop monsters, not S’s. I never thought there’d be a day I would watch someone poop and then spend a good amount of time staring into the toilet, discussing it. Only a parent watches and discusses poop like it’s a fricking sporting event.

Also on the list of things I never figured I’d do is frantically check every bathroom before company arrives to make sure the toilets have been flushed. It never fails that I find at least one that someone forgot to flush. A real bonus is when there’s a floater and toilet paper because there are many times I simply find the floater. How many times do you have to tell your punks they have to wipe their ass before they actually remember?

I have this weird issue with listening to people eat and drink – I can’t stand it and it makes me feel like I’m going to have a panic attack – so eating with my punks tends to be stressful at best. Most of you are worrying about whether or not your punks are eating, I’m worrying about how much noise they make. I expect them to have manners and chew with their mouths closed, but even then, there are some pretty disgusting noises. I’ve always had this issue but now that I have kids it’s a whole new level of panic attack stress. Just thinking about it makes me freak out. Moving on.

If you don’t have kids then I’m the mom you hate at the grocery store and avoid eye contact with so I don’t see your look of disgust. (If you have them, you pass by with the “I understand” look in your eyes and we do the secret handshake to meet up for drinks later.) I let them roll around on the floor, crying over not getting Oreo’s, while I move on down the aisle. If they want to look like total idiots in the store, who am I to stop them? If you don’t have punks you assume my kids are assholes and I’m a shitty mom who lets them meltdown over cookies. What you should know is that I’m not going to give them their way, especially when they’re acting like douche bags. So sigh away, and roll your eyes because I’m not going to give in just so you don’t have to listen to them. I don’t want to listen to them either. Just know that I’m usually one eye roll and sigh away from ramming my cart into your ankles so beware. Better make sure you don’t stop in the middle of the aisle because that annoys me as much as my crying punks annoy you.

I’d really like to know what asshole thought putting candy and crap-ass toys in the checkout line was a good idea? If you don’t want to listen to punks cry and plead and beg, move that shit. When the cashiers give me dirty looks I want to tell them that it’s the dumbest idea ever put into action and I would have never approved such dumb shit, nor am I going to shut my punks up by giving them their way. So thanks, every grocery store in America, for making every mom look like failures because we won’t buy your crap at the checkout line. Maybe someone (with or without punks) should start a petition to get it moved. I’m pretty sure everyone would sign it and we could just finally pay for our shit without wanting to punch each other in the face.

The one area in which I feel I completely excel as a mom, but look like a total idiot, is what an incredible rapper/singer/song writer I’ve become. I typically rap/sing to the punks when I wake them up, encourage them to get dressed, get along, move their asses, or eat quietly. And I don’t care where we are – it’s always a good time for some original music – although my punks would totally disagree. My punks even sing along to most of my stuff which really makes me feel like I rock. We’re kind of like the Osmond’s but not as talented, and we dress better. Plus, we aren’t making any money. Yet. If we ever record an album, just promise you’ll buy it and know I will totally take this shit on the road if there’s ever enough demand.

Now I need to go make Cort put his underwear and pants on because he’s my free bird and has completely refused my requests to stop walking around half naked. This is a daily occurrence in our house that, despite my best efforts, I cannot get under control. You probably don’t want to ever just show up at my house because chances are I’ll be braless and rapping, Cort will be pantless and the toilets won’t be flushed. And someone will be having a meltdown because I suck as a mom.

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