Sunday, December 1, 2019

You don't have to die on the hill of motherhood.

Brought to you by this meme from my newsfeed this morning (are we still calling it a newsfeed, Facebook, or have we all just agreed to start calling it the brainwashing station?)



Now the comments on the original post, as you can imagine, are fulllllll of mom shaming.

"HOW DARE YOU NOT LET THOSE PRECIOUS NUGGETS ENJOY. THOSE. MEMORIES!" 

"My Christmas would have been so much better if my mother would have wanted to share that experience with us *insert sad violins*."

I feel like this is a symptom of the whole idea that when you become a mother, it is *supposed* to eclipse the rest of your identity. And that's certainly what it feels like when you've got a newborn attached to your boob 24/7, or a toddler (or three toddlers, like we did because we're nuts) whose sole mission in life is to swallow as much sand as possible and jump off things that are entirely too high.

But I don't think that's healthy. Like, at all. It's created an entire generation of self-entitled brats whose helicopter/lawnmower/tiger/whatever other descriptor mommies hover over their high school (YES, HIGH SCHOOL) teachers and coaches and bosses and step right in when they feel their precious snowflakes are not being properly cared for.



What the actual fuck, society.

(Obvious disclaimer, it's not the *entire* generation, lest I go reverse #okboomer status.)

So if you don't give a rat's ass about your tree arrangement, good for you. And if you need to have separate trees for everyone in the house so you can hold on to some small semblance of sanity in a world that is 99.99999% uncontrollable, go for it.



You are a mother. It's beautiful and wonderful. And it's not all you are.
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