I think I will start with the straw that broke the camel's back today and prompted me to finally make this blog, which I have been mulling over for quite some time.
I think all of us that are parents have this moment, the one where your well meaning yet childless friend gives you parenting advice. Advice that is not wanted, I might add.
I have three kiddos, two of them teens, and, well, my kids are loud. I know that most kids are, but mine seem to have their volume knob broken off in the max position. Even when speaking normally, it feels like they are shouting. I don't know what it is, maybe they are all meant to be rock stars and were born with supreme pipes.
Anyway, as I said, they are loud, and it drives me insane half the time, as parents of loud children can understand.
I was talking to a friend and I was bitching about it, as I usually do, and the reaction from my friend was basically I was a horrible mother because I did not cherish each and every sound that came out of the mongrels. Also implied was that I was evil for wanting them to return to school and get out of my face for a while so I did not have to hear them.
That did not fly well with me.
This person has no children, but because they had a sibling ( or cousin or nephew or niece or insert random relative here ) they know EXACTLY what I am talking about, and it is just horrible that I do not coo and hang on my kids every syllable.
Excuse the fuck out of me, but having a sibling or other relative that you were not the primary caretaker for is NOTHING like what we, as full time parents go through. Combine the fact I took off work this summer ( well, kinda of, I worked from home a lot ) to be with the kids, meaning they were up my ass 24/7 with the fact they can break glass with the sheer volume of their voices, and I was in a fine state, and all I wanted was for my FRIEND to listen to me and let me gripe, not pass judgement on me for something they have NO CLUE about.
That friend is not the only one. It seems the from the second you conceive a child until the day you die, someone is trying to heap advice on your head. Most are well meaning, but listen, if we want advice, trust me, we will ask. What we need is for our friends to listen, and not think I am an ogre because I want my kids to go back to school so I can have a little mommy time before I have to go back to work full time. Is that to much to ask?
Why do people do that? They read a book or a website, and suddenly they are the world expert on what the fuck ever you were bitching about, and have all this shit spewing from their mouth that we do not want to hear. It is bad enough from the people who DO have kids, but the ones that DON'T? You can fuck right off.
So folks, unless we ask, please for the love of all that is holy, PLEASE do not give us parenting advice. Especially if you do not have kids yourself. Your cat or dog or bird or rat or what the fuck ever critter you have as a pet does not count. Yes, some people see them as kids and that is fine, I have no issues with that and I understand, but if your dog won't stop barking, you can lock him in a room for a little bit until he calms down without HRS beating on your door. Kids are way more responsibility that Fluffy or Fido or that time you watched your little brother for an hour while your mom ran to the store.
So stuff it and just listen for a change. I can read a book or website for information all by myself, thanks.
Raging Rhiannon
A place to vent about the bullshit side of my life.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Raging Rhiannon
I have a pretty awesome life. I am a happy person. Sometimes, however, there are things I want to say to or about people, and out of decency, I do not.
It chafes sometimes.
Since I prefer my ass to not be chapped, and I do not want to die of a heart attack due to stress, I decided to create a blog where I could vent my spleen without fear of being found out.
This is that place.
I can be foul mouthed and sarcastic, and you will experience that in all of its glory if you decide to check me out.
Don't say I didn't warn you!
It chafes sometimes.
Since I prefer my ass to not be chapped, and I do not want to die of a heart attack due to stress, I decided to create a blog where I could vent my spleen without fear of being found out.
This is that place.
I can be foul mouthed and sarcastic, and you will experience that in all of its glory if you decide to check me out.
Don't say I didn't warn you!
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