So, let me preface this by saying that I am absolutely guilty of all that I am about to snark at others for doing.
I was looking through all the photos on my phone (a new BlackBerry Torch.. because Holy Mother, if there is anything in life that I am certain of it is that I hate all things Apple and was secretly a little bit happy when my boy-son-mcperfect dropped my iPhone in the toilet) deciding which little tidbits of kid related (because let's face it, I haven't posted pics of just me in forever.. you know.. the ones where you know you look fabfreakin'tastic and you just have to catch a quick shot of yourself and share it with your 200+ closest friends) delicious-ness everyone would love to see. And I realized that really? No one thinks our kids are nearly as cute as we think they are. Now, I know that there are those few crazies out there (Julie Pounds) that really do LOVE other people's kids and enjoy hearing about all their cute little antics. And of course.. grandparents are required to adore. But other than those two groups (Grandparents and JCP) most of us don't think your kids are that great. Yes... we appreciate that you are a good parent. (Because it makes your children bearable when we get together) And yes... we think it's good that they aren't drooling, malnourished, or moronic. We appreciate cute clothes (so that we aren't embarrassed to be seen in public with you all), and a good sense of humor. But egads... really, as long as your kid isn't socially retarded .. you get a pass. And that's all I need to know about your darling little one.
(I know... with absolute certainty that the feathers have begun to ruffle and there are a few who think me a total ass.. But please remember what I said at the very beginning. I am guilty of presuming that everyone cares just like the rest of you... so please... please save the rotten vegetable pelting for the outgoing Democratic Congress and let me write in peace. I promise... promise promise promise... that I'm making fun of us all. If you don't believe me, look through my photos and status updates. Yeah.. I'm one of THOSE people)
It has become clear to me, that the addition of snow takes the normal desire to show everyone how holy-effin-cute your kids are to a whole new level of Mommy Dearest. I was scrolling down my updates a little bit ago in between sips (okay in the spirit of honestly, gulps)... of Cab while cramming hummus dripping pita chips in my make-up-less face.. and had to chuckle at the fact that everyone's recent update looks the same. Most frequently used words: Hot Cocoa, Love, Cute, Snow, Love, Hot Cocoa, Cute, Snow *insert random kid's name*. I kept searching in the hopes that I would find a kindred spirit (winks Ann *withan"e" and Dianna) who posted. "Doing the exact same thing as all the rest of you. Who else is dreading hot cocoa clean up, floor mopping, and laundry?" Alas.. there were none to be found. Which is what sent me searching through my own phone in the hopes that I could add a little dab of Haguioni Snow Awesomeness to the facebook mix. Turns out, I'm a bad mother and have no photos on my phone of all the cute snow-play that has taken place over the last 24 hours. In my defense... I DID cook a turkey, ham, and all the trimmings as well as a divine German Chocolate Upside Down Cake (tips hat to Holly Clardy) yesterday and played loverly host to the inlaws and friends. I even did it remotely sober, which I think relieves me of any obligation to take cute pictures. Doug is a bad father.. it's a simple as that. Baddoug.
Maybe that's it.. perhaps I'm just snarking at all of you who have a million photos of Cutest McCuterthananyoneelse's outside on the first white Christmas in Jawja since Scaahhlett was still getting crammed into corsets by Mammie. Maybe I'm drowing my guilt at having totally missed this Christmas snow because I was busy stressing that the table wasn't set properly. Perhaps I'm snarking at all of you and your little bundled up brats cheesing it up for the camera (like everyone else's) because even after over ten years of parenting, and seven children... I have a hard time letting go of "things" and just living in the moment. Gah! That's it. Damn you dry red wine and fingers that type faster than my brain can edit and protect me. Sigh... I don't have any cute photos from yesterday.
Now I'm going to have to go and have the kids put on different coats and changes of clothes to get photos for their dumb kids to look at, in the hopes that they won't remember that all those photos of them as littles were really taken over a period of twenty minutes with a mom nagging at them not to track anything in the house between clothes changes. Or... I can just chalk it up to "Look.. you eat three square meals a day, Santa always comes, you have clean clothes and play sports through the Rec.. leave me alone about the 'no pictures from our childhood' thing." Ya think it'll guilt them into forgiving me?
I did participate in two snowball fights yesterday. I have hung their coats by the fire, and served up hot cocoa each time they've come in.
Awww eff... I'm off to take some pictures.
I still don't care how cute your kid is.
Your's in resignition,
Kate
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