13 Cases of You say Tomato, I say psychopathic/germophobic/unlicensed witchdoctor/craptastic parenting. (Because I AM a perfect parent, thank you, Bre!)
1. By singing along with Carrie Underwood, am I teaching my daughter to be a trashy psychopath? Because that cheating song is catchy and much fun to sing, but if I think about the lyrics, it just screams pSyChO. Don’t know the words? Something like this:
I dug my keys into the side
Of (This/his) pretty little souped up four-wheel-drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights
Slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats. Now I’ll admit to a momentary urge to slap the shit out of the silly bitch when I discovered evidence of the ex’s faithlessness--but then he would have cried, and it was soooo not worth the drama.
2. I was a picky eater. I empathize when my kid doesn’t want to eat something. I’m not making four separate dinners, but I’ll make the kids something if I know we’re having something they find ick. This drives the Honey crazy, since it means that my kids aren’t really game for new exotic foods at his mother’s. I see his point, but man, I was such a picky eater, and I had to take a bite of everything. At least a bite. I would sit at the table for hours facing down my bite of cottage cheese. Eating Cottage cheese was like swallowing vomit to me, and I could not do it. Why my mom loved it so much and served it on a regular basis I cannot fathom
3. Germs. Are you crazy about them? I must confess, I am pretty laid back about it all. I was reading a blog and the author confessed that she took her kids to the “germ pit” aka mall play place. Dude, I love those places. Little O can run herself ragged without having to buy a Crappy Meal.
4. But I am also the one that made the baby’s bottle from tap water. (I heard that gasp of horror) When the time came to switch to formula (Sorry, not a twelve month breastfeeder), I just didn’t see the point in buying special water. I am a big believer in building immunities to the ick of the world through repeated low dose exposures.
5. We don’t do anti-bacterial products in the house, and use them sparingly out in the big bad world. The waterless aspects are too good to pass up, but anit-bac? Not so much.
6. My girlfriend had her daughter on an endless stream of anti-biotic treatments—to the point that she could just call the office and the nurse would call over another re-fill to the pharmacy. No visit, no discussion of symptoms. Isn’t that inherently bad medicine? What if she ever really gets an infection that requires antibiotics? She will be the walking supervirus-resistant to every medicine known to man, baby.
7. I hate the ticklers of the world. When we were kids, there was a man that we adored. But he tickled long past the point of funny or fun. He was not a bad man, there was nothing creepy or inappropriate, he just took things too far. Teasing kids to the point of crying and then mocking them for being babies? Equally Unfunny.
8. Keep track of your children, people. When I worked at B&N, people would drop their young grade schoolers off at the kid’s dept. and go socialize at the other end of the store. WTF? Your cutie pie firstgrader, without an ounce of guile or any natural inhibitions is chatting up the hobo who’d better stop scratching himself soon or I’ll have to intervene. Put down your fricking latte and be a parent. After I left, they were finally allowed to put up signs reminding parents to keep kids in sight. I still see people walk away from their kids. Sigh.
9. Does anyone have superstitious old-world in-laws? Here are a few things that I had never heard of until I gave birth to a Mexican-American princess:
10. Laying a red string on her forehead to cure her tiny baby hiccups. Nobody ever tries to do this to grown-ups, I notice.
11. The belly band to cover the umbillicus until it falls off. Even though they make diapers that go around it, you are supposed to wrap this weird soft piece of material twice around the belly, TIE it to them, and that way you protect the tender belly button. Hey, the BONUS? You then save the piece of flesh that fell off. Is there a spot for that in YOUR baby book?
12. When the soft spot is sunken, it DOESN”T mean she’s getting dehydrated, it means we need to take her to the witch doctor/native (Read unlicensed) chiropractor dude so he can push up on the roof of her mouth and “pop” her soft spot. So you want me to let some guy you know shove his thumb into my tiny daughter’s brainpan?
13. How young is too young to be walking home alone? Too young to be walking on the street AT ALL with no supervision? I live in an okay neighborhood, but Big O is only now (At 11) able to go out and wander the neighborhood without me. I see toddlers out in the yards without anyone out with them. Don’t these people watch TV? Have they ever checked the Megan’s law site for their area? Because I have, and I’m not happy. But at eleven, I can’t really chain him to his bed, and outside activities are healthy. Kids belong outside. We’ll talk about organized sports another day, my friends.
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