Re: A Mom Responds Before Crowding You Our of Your Local Coffeeshop/Bar
A Mom Responds Before Crowding You Our of Your Local Coffeeshop/Bar
by Jessica Roake
Every once in a while someone's mom gets on the offensive and posts something about how horrible child-haters child-free adults are towards innocent parents. Rarely are these posts anything more than postpartum meltdowns. The article linked above is no exception. However, I do find it deliciously hilarious how Ms. (Mrs?) Jessica Roake seems to prove each point she's arguing against. Thus, I shall be posting the internal ramblings which went through my head while I read this mom-entous essay.
A lot of people with/without kids have very strong opinions about parents and babies, and they really, really want to share them! You know, like, "I can go party awesomely with other adults without hiring a babysitter anytime. (this is not an opinion, but a true observation) Let’s talk about anything but YOU and your offspring, because I have a lot of things to say! I’ll also post my judgement on the internet, just to make my thoughts on babies known, once and for all (Someone must have gotten posted on STFU, Parents and got butthurt about it). For posterity. That will be helpful! (Oh, if only parents like you heeded these helpful hints)" As a non-hypothetical parent who can also read, I’ve noticed that some of these opinions tend to be self-righteous :P/ ignorant - unlike this article / soul-crushingly cruel (you mad?), and they have at various points driven me to tears (Dude, it's the internet! Don't take it so personally), mom support groups (The fact that moms have support groups should tell you something), and a biiiiit of a drinking problem (I'm sure this last one didn't factor in to the writing of this essay at ALL!). But the time for support groups is over (I still need the wine) (Please, hold that bottle thought, while I contact child services), and the time for battle is here (Pikachu...I CHOOSE YOU!). I have some opinions too, my friends, and mine are bolstered by almost inhuman levels of hormones (You don't say!) and righteousness forged in the fires of childbirth (I just got a vision of Frodo and Sam carrying a uterus into Mordor...).
1. Cease and desist with the whole “My neighborhood has been ruined by yuppie parents who overrun the streets with strollers and bring their babies into bars” thing. (Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold up! Is this article REALLY going to be about you getting pissed because people don't like seeing your baby in a bar!?!?! I'm sorry, but, WTF is wrong with you?!? Having a baby in a bar is... tacky! It's the complete opposite of classy. Also, it's highly inappropriate! Bars are an adult setting. It's not just for atmosphere... it's the law! I don't think I've walked into a sing bar which didn't have a sign hanging on the door that read, "Nobody under 21 admitted inside." WHY would you want your baby in a bar, anyway? What kind of parent want their infant child to be around a bunch of rambunctious, loud, drunkards? --not to mention some states still allow smoking in bars-- I think you may need to stop right here and take a good look at yourself and your parenting priorities)
I know it’s hard to be a super-legit young urbanite, living in an area that was totally cool before being gentrified (because you grew up here, right?), the kind of person who - and I’m just spitballing here:
a. went to RISD/Brown/Oberlin/“School in Cambridge”; (This makes you seem jealously angry at people who were able to receive a college education. But, in any case.. not me.)
b. now works at a gallery/website/non-profit (mostly on Tumblr/Twitter); (Um... not me, either.... but, there are plenty of non-profit organizations which cater specifically to children and families. Many, who's employees have children. So, I don't know why you'd assume this)
c. goes to readings for small presses/shows for obscure Danish bands/your coke dealer’s gallery openings; (Small presses? I don't know any obscure Danish bands. I don't have a coke dealer, either.... and, my weed dealer doesn't have a gallery)
d. makes art/writing/music before an overwhelming sense of failure and self-loathing necessitates whiskey/rye & rosemary cocktails/cheap canned beer in dark, super-authentic dive bars (with great jukeboxes); and (Well... maybe I make a little bit of art. I do like photography...)
e. sleeps drunkenly with inappropriate/unavailable friends and/or random strangers who get your cultural references/share your vital stats/haircut/jeans before writing/receiving overly long morning-after emails/texts about not being ready for commitment blah, blah, blah. (I don't think I do this... However, I might just be so drunk I don't remember! Gimme a second, let me text my husband and ask him about this one... he says, "No.")
Is that a terribly hackneyed cliche? (Yes!) Sorry! (I don't think you are) But yes, cultural stereotype to cultural stereotype (though, you've neglected listing my cultural stereotype. I feel so left out!), put me in my place for leaving the house in search of adult human contact and conversation with a stroller for my child who cannot walk yet (Oh, I remember the days when a stroller was a small thing... when folded up it was hardly larger than an umbrella. Why do I have the feeling you're not talking about that kind of stroller?), when I should just be inside, alone (But, you're not alone... you have A CHILD!), staring at my yellow wallpaper (You know, you COULD go to Home Depot and pick out something a little nicer than yellow wallpaper). On the bar front, there are two ways to approach this problem: either make nice and buy the baby a drink (Lets pretend that's not illegal. If I were to do this, I'd sit there and insist on watching the kid drink every drop of the double scotch I sent their way), or just get right up into that baby’s face and yell at that baby until he/she feels properly shamed and leaves your private drinking establishment. (I have a feeling you don't really want me to do this. But, if I did own the bar I'd tell you to get our 'cause I don't want a baby in my bar)
2. Stop calling people with kids “the worst.” (I don't think I've ever heard anyone just say, "people with kids are the worst." Mayhaps someone said to you, "people like you with kids are the worst.")
A lot of times, people will say, "Why are some parents the worst," (keyword: some) you know, like, “Why are my friends who can’t go a night without talking about the wonders of their little crapdoll so predictably boring and parent-y(Well... why can't you?) now when they used to be so cool, like, did all adult conversational ability exit my friend's vagina with the baby? (Well... did it?)” But you put ALL parents on notice, by extension positing that ALL people who have produced offspring in THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD are the worst (I completely agree, re: your mom) Ouch... burn.... An interesting position that can be explained thusly: “people with kids” are really tired (Understandably!), they can’t just “go out and get a drink” (You can buy liquor while out grocery shopping.. I mean, hell... where are you getting your wine?!)without three weeks of babysitter planning, and, you know, frankly, your life isn’t that interesting to them (If we're not interesting to you then why do you want to be around us???), and they are judging you CONSTANTLY.(You have a serious paranoia problem)
3. Pregnant ladies are not “smug.” (Pregnant Women are Smug by Garfunkel and Oates)
Pregnant ladies are filled with LIFE FORCE (coughsmugcough), an energy so profound and positive (smug) that it could literally transform the world with its power (smuggitysmugsmugsmug). It is hard to really understand - unless you have felt Gaea’s blood-sugar-sex-magick (smug-a-lug-a-ding-dong!) so fully inhabit your body WHICH YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVEN'T - the beauty of what we (who have been blessed by the Goddess) (Smug) call the “great dance” of pregnancy (SMUG!). So what you misconstrue as “smugness” is actually just the 100% justified inner peace that comes from knowing that all hope for harmony, life, and mankind itself resides within a pregnant lady's blessed-be uterus (The amount of smug in this paragraph is causing global warming.). Or/Also: pregnant ladies are filled with hormones (no shit) & anxiety & delusions & gas, which sometimes looks a little like smugness (You'd think it would be hard to be smug when you're sweaty, farting and wetting yourself).
4. There is no sinister conspiracy to make of you a breeder. (What do you want to do tomorrow night, Brain? Same thing we do every night, Pinky... TRY TO MAKE BREEDERS OF ALL OF YOU!!!)
Here is why your friends with kids are always “pressuring” you to start birthing: because plaaaaaaay daaaaates (So, you want your friends to have kids just so your spawn will have someone to play with, giving you a few moments of peace and sanity? Wow... that's not selfish at ALL!)! Because it would be great if you could do "brunch" at the IHOP at 7:45 a.m (Parent or not... you cannot do "brunch" at 7:45am. It's call breakfast no matter who you are.)! Because “hanging out” could mean sitting on a couch with beers/wine/booze (WE WON'T JUDGE EACH OTHER!) (OMG! Guess what! You don't have to have kids to have a friend like this. In fact, my best friend and I hang out once a week. All we do is sit on the sofa, chat, eat lunch, watch tv or a movie, knit... etc. But, we rarely drink... but, we could if we wanted to!) while the kids play, accepting that all conversations will be interrupted 42 times for conflict resolution/pottytalk (Ha ha! We can do it without the interruptions XD Sorry... had rub it in)! Because they won't have to explain how long it takes to get a babysitter, or why noisy chain restaurants that give out crayons are the coolest, or why there are many, many stains on their sweat pants (which you will no longer make fun of, because you get it) (Friends generally don't mind if you have stained sweat pants... but, they may worry about you if you constantly wear them out in public). People with kids want their friends to join the horror club so they can have company in their misery share their secret language with you! But I don't know you (You sure seemed to think you knew a lot about me a few paragraphs back), nor do I care about whether or not you choose to procreate. Really, there's no secret petition going around, no big underground campaign - don't have kids if you don't want them (Wow! Thanks! I feel so much better now that I have your blessing)! I respect that, I really do. Because that means less competition at our No. 1 choice cooperative Waldorf preschool (fingers crossed!) *eye roll*.
5. Don’t compare your dog/cat to my child. (Oh, there's no comparison! My dogs and cats are WAY BETTER than your child. Trust me on this)
Did you labor with your puppy for 28 hours (No. But, not all parents go through any labor. There's C-sections. Surrogates, Adoption...)? Did you go through an exhaustive and nearly bankrupting adoption process with your kitty (I might have. You don't know me)? Did your fertility struggles challenge your ability to have your bunny (No. My husbands allergies do)? Did any of these animals come out of your vagina (No. But, again... not EVERY parent has a child come out of their vajayjay)? Yes, yes, you love your animals, I love my animals too, shut up Dr. PETA (Not all animal lovers are members of PETA.. but, I won't get into that now). It is not the same, and no one with a child is like, “Oh thank God, YOU GET IT” when someone with a pet likens changing diapers at four in the morning to housetraining a Boston Terrier. (No... but, staying up late with two vomiting, dogs with the trots is EASILY equivalent staying up all night with a sick infant. Also, being a very involved aunt, I know all about the horrors of diapers, snot and other unpleasantries... so, just because a person has never given birth, doesn't mean they don't understand your parenting plights. And, while we're on the subject of "loving your pets like kids" I'd like to point you to google "cat human bond." There are many interesting studies.)
Jessica Roake is a twat has a BABY, and when she isn't playing trains and ruining your favorite places, she tweets and blogs.
PS - Every parent I know thinks Jessica is insane and should be on medication.
by Jessica Roake
Every once in a while someone's mom gets on the offensive and posts something about how horrible child-haters child-free adults are towards innocent parents. Rarely are these posts anything more than postpartum meltdowns. The article linked above is no exception. However, I do find it deliciously hilarious how Ms. (Mrs?) Jessica Roake seems to prove each point she's arguing against. Thus, I shall be posting the internal ramblings which went through my head while I read this mom-entous essay.
A lot of people with/without kids have very strong opinions about parents and babies, and they really, really want to share them! You know, like, "I can go party awesomely with other adults without hiring a babysitter anytime. (this is not an opinion, but a true observation) Let’s talk about anything but YOU and your offspring, because I have a lot of things to say! I’ll also post my judgement on the internet, just to make my thoughts on babies known, once and for all (Someone must have gotten posted on STFU, Parents and got butthurt about it). For posterity. That will be helpful! (Oh, if only parents like you heeded these helpful hints)" As a non-hypothetical parent who can also read, I’ve noticed that some of these opinions tend to be self-righteous :P/ ignorant - unlike this article / soul-crushingly cruel (you mad?), and they have at various points driven me to tears (Dude, it's the internet! Don't take it so personally), mom support groups (The fact that moms have support groups should tell you something), and a biiiiit of a drinking problem (I'm sure this last one didn't factor in to the writing of this essay at ALL!). But the time for support groups is over (I still need the wine) (Please, hold that bottle thought, while I contact child services), and the time for battle is here (Pikachu...I CHOOSE YOU!). I have some opinions too, my friends, and mine are bolstered by almost inhuman levels of hormones (You don't say!) and righteousness forged in the fires of childbirth (I just got a vision of Frodo and Sam carrying a uterus into Mordor...).
1. Cease and desist with the whole “My neighborhood has been ruined by yuppie parents who overrun the streets with strollers and bring their babies into bars” thing. (Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold up! Is this article REALLY going to be about you getting pissed because people don't like seeing your baby in a bar!?!?! I'm sorry, but, WTF is wrong with you?!? Having a baby in a bar is... tacky! It's the complete opposite of classy. Also, it's highly inappropriate! Bars are an adult setting. It's not just for atmosphere... it's the law! I don't think I've walked into a sing bar which didn't have a sign hanging on the door that read, "Nobody under 21 admitted inside." WHY would you want your baby in a bar, anyway? What kind of parent want their infant child to be around a bunch of rambunctious, loud, drunkards? --not to mention some states still allow smoking in bars-- I think you may need to stop right here and take a good look at yourself and your parenting priorities)
I know it’s hard to be a super-legit young urbanite, living in an area that was totally cool before being gentrified (because you grew up here, right?), the kind of person who - and I’m just spitballing here:
a. went to RISD/Brown/Oberlin/“School in Cambridge”; (This makes you seem jealously angry at people who were able to receive a college education. But, in any case.. not me.)
b. now works at a gallery/website/non-profit (mostly on Tumblr/Twitter); (Um... not me, either.... but, there are plenty of non-profit organizations which cater specifically to children and families. Many, who's employees have children. So, I don't know why you'd assume this)
c. goes to readings for small presses/shows for obscure Danish bands/your coke dealer’s gallery openings; (Small presses? I don't know any obscure Danish bands. I don't have a coke dealer, either.... and, my weed dealer doesn't have a gallery)
d. makes art/writing/music before an overwhelming sense of failure and self-loathing necessitates whiskey/rye & rosemary cocktails/cheap canned beer in dark, super-authentic dive bars (with great jukeboxes); and (Well... maybe I make a little bit of art. I do like photography...)
e. sleeps drunkenly with inappropriate/unavailable friends and/or random strangers who get your cultural references/share your vital stats/haircut/jeans before writing/receiving overly long morning-after emails/texts about not being ready for commitment blah, blah, blah. (I don't think I do this... However, I might just be so drunk I don't remember! Gimme a second, let me text my husband and ask him about this one... he says, "No.")
Is that a terribly hackneyed cliche? (Yes!) Sorry! (I don't think you are) But yes, cultural stereotype to cultural stereotype (though, you've neglected listing my cultural stereotype. I feel so left out!), put me in my place for leaving the house in search of adult human contact and conversation with a stroller for my child who cannot walk yet (Oh, I remember the days when a stroller was a small thing... when folded up it was hardly larger than an umbrella. Why do I have the feeling you're not talking about that kind of stroller?), when I should just be inside, alone (But, you're not alone... you have A CHILD!), staring at my yellow wallpaper (You know, you COULD go to Home Depot and pick out something a little nicer than yellow wallpaper). On the bar front, there are two ways to approach this problem: either make nice and buy the baby a drink (Lets pretend that's not illegal. If I were to do this, I'd sit there and insist on watching the kid drink every drop of the double scotch I sent their way), or just get right up into that baby’s face and yell at that baby until he/she feels properly shamed and leaves your private drinking establishment. (I have a feeling you don't really want me to do this. But, if I did own the bar I'd tell you to get our 'cause I don't want a baby in my bar)
2. Stop calling people with kids “the worst.” (I don't think I've ever heard anyone just say, "people with kids are the worst." Mayhaps someone said to you, "people like you with kids are the worst.")
A lot of times, people will say, "Why are some parents the worst," (keyword: some) you know, like, “Why are my friends who can’t go a night without talking about the wonders of their little crapdoll so predictably boring and parent-y(Well... why can't you?) now when they used to be so cool, like, did all adult conversational ability exit my friend's vagina with the baby? (Well... did it?)” But you put ALL parents on notice, by extension positing that ALL people who have produced offspring in THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD are the worst (I completely agree, re: your mom) Ouch... burn.... An interesting position that can be explained thusly: “people with kids” are really tired (Understandably!), they can’t just “go out and get a drink” (You can buy liquor while out grocery shopping.. I mean, hell... where are you getting your wine?!)without three weeks of babysitter planning, and, you know, frankly, your life isn’t that interesting to them (If we're not interesting to you then why do you want to be around us???), and they are judging you CONSTANTLY.(You have a serious paranoia problem)
3. Pregnant ladies are not “smug.” (Pregnant Women are Smug by Garfunkel and Oates)
Pregnant ladies are filled with LIFE FORCE (coughsmugcough), an energy so profound and positive (smug) that it could literally transform the world with its power (smuggitysmugsmugsmug). It is hard to really understand - unless you have felt Gaea’s blood-sugar-sex-magick (smug-a-lug-a-ding-dong!) so fully inhabit your body WHICH YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVEN'T - the beauty of what we (who have been blessed by the Goddess) (Smug) call the “great dance” of pregnancy (SMUG!). So what you misconstrue as “smugness” is actually just the 100% justified inner peace that comes from knowing that all hope for harmony, life, and mankind itself resides within a pregnant lady's blessed-be uterus (The amount of smug in this paragraph is causing global warming.). Or/Also: pregnant ladies are filled with hormones (no shit) & anxiety & delusions & gas, which sometimes looks a little like smugness (You'd think it would be hard to be smug when you're sweaty, farting and wetting yourself).
4. There is no sinister conspiracy to make of you a breeder. (What do you want to do tomorrow night, Brain? Same thing we do every night, Pinky... TRY TO MAKE BREEDERS OF ALL OF YOU!!!)
Here is why your friends with kids are always “pressuring” you to start birthing: because plaaaaaaay daaaaates (So, you want your friends to have kids just so your spawn will have someone to play with, giving you a few moments of peace and sanity? Wow... that's not selfish at ALL!)! Because it would be great if you could do "brunch" at the IHOP at 7:45 a.m (Parent or not... you cannot do "brunch" at 7:45am. It's call breakfast no matter who you are.)! Because “hanging out” could mean sitting on a couch with beers/wine/booze (WE WON'T JUDGE EACH OTHER!) (OMG! Guess what! You don't have to have kids to have a friend like this. In fact, my best friend and I hang out once a week. All we do is sit on the sofa, chat, eat lunch, watch tv or a movie, knit... etc. But, we rarely drink... but, we could if we wanted to!) while the kids play, accepting that all conversations will be interrupted 42 times for conflict resolution/pottytalk (Ha ha! We can do it without the interruptions XD Sorry... had rub it in)! Because they won't have to explain how long it takes to get a babysitter, or why noisy chain restaurants that give out crayons are the coolest, or why there are many, many stains on their sweat pants (which you will no longer make fun of, because you get it) (Friends generally don't mind if you have stained sweat pants... but, they may worry about you if you constantly wear them out in public). People with kids want their friends to join the horror club so they can have company in their misery share their secret language with you! But I don't know you (You sure seemed to think you knew a lot about me a few paragraphs back), nor do I care about whether or not you choose to procreate. Really, there's no secret petition going around, no big underground campaign - don't have kids if you don't want them (Wow! Thanks! I feel so much better now that I have your blessing)! I respect that, I really do. Because that means less competition at our No. 1 choice cooperative Waldorf preschool (fingers crossed!) *eye roll*.
5. Don’t compare your dog/cat to my child. (Oh, there's no comparison! My dogs and cats are WAY BETTER than your child. Trust me on this)
Did you labor with your puppy for 28 hours (No. But, not all parents go through any labor. There's C-sections. Surrogates, Adoption...)? Did you go through an exhaustive and nearly bankrupting adoption process with your kitty (I might have. You don't know me)? Did your fertility struggles challenge your ability to have your bunny (No. My husbands allergies do)? Did any of these animals come out of your vagina (No. But, again... not EVERY parent has a child come out of their vajayjay)? Yes, yes, you love your animals, I love my animals too, shut up Dr. PETA (Not all animal lovers are members of PETA.. but, I won't get into that now). It is not the same, and no one with a child is like, “Oh thank God, YOU GET IT” when someone with a pet likens changing diapers at four in the morning to housetraining a Boston Terrier. (No... but, staying up late with two vomiting, dogs with the trots is EASILY equivalent staying up all night with a sick infant. Also, being a very involved aunt, I know all about the horrors of diapers, snot and other unpleasantries... so, just because a person has never given birth, doesn't mean they don't understand your parenting plights. And, while we're on the subject of "loving your pets like kids" I'd like to point you to google "cat human bond." There are many interesting studies.)
Jessica Roake is a twat has a BABY, and when she isn't playing trains and ruining your favorite places, she tweets and blogs.
PS - Every parent I know thinks Jessica is insane and should be on medication.