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10 Things You Might Not Know About Me

It seems like that time of year, doesn’t it?

1. I’m currently obsessed with the color yellow, Mindy Kaling’s new book, Bitchin’ Kitchen, Once Upon a Time, and the word “obsessed”.

2. People tell me weird things.  I don’t mind.  I love hearing someone’s stories.  And I think the very act of telling someone helps.  Plus I love hearing the story.  I love the connection.

3. I used to talk to people in airports.

4. The scene in “Hoosiers” when Dennis Hopper’s character cleans up and comes to coach the team runs through my head more often than it should.  And the scene when Neil Diamond repeatedly screams “TODAY” in “The Jazz Singer”.

5. I only remember one line being used on me.  Cooper was less than a year and we were dancing in the car while driving home from daycare.  I don’t remember the song, but it was a good one.  A man in a neighboring car pulled up, watched us, and signaled for me to unroll my window.  I turned the radio down and unrolled the window.  He smiled and asked, “You want a Daddy for that baby?”  Maybe he wasn’t hitting on me and really wanted to be a father.  I choose to think he wanted to get in my pants.

6. I hate when people use the term “Furbabies”.

7. “Strawberry” milk makes me want to vomit.

8. Norah Jones makes me ill.

9.  I hate the term “brat”.  My mom hates it and passed that hatred to me.  But she also hates the words: Shut up, Fart, Fuck, and probably Cunt (most women do but we haven’t discussed it yet).  I don’t mind any of these.  But I hear the word “Brat” and cringe.  I know it isn’t the most awful thing you can call a kid, it just rubs me wrong.  I won’t judge you if you use it, but if you ever call my kid a “brat”, I will grab you by your eyes and rip them straight down to your asshole.  It’s a deal breaker.  We will never be friends again.

10.  I’m guessing parenting doesn’t get easy until you’re a Grandparent.  But I’m 100% positive that the easiest is always the period behind you.  It is beyond the hardest thing I’ll ever willingly do.  And I have a hard time being around/reading anyone who believes otherwise or sugarcoats it.  “I’ve been vomited and shit on, but Mommy/Daddy is the only job title I want.” if I read that type of status update or Tweet, I don’t get it.  I’d rather not have any fluid on me.  It’s really difficult.  And it isn’t because I don’t know how to do it, it just is. * You don’t have to tell me all your struggles.  You don’t have to unload your shit for me to like or relate to you.  You don’t need to tell me your kid is a brat (eeewww).  If you want to, please do.  But I love Love stories.  I love my kids.  I love your kids.  I do.  But parenting is hard even when you try to focus on the positive.

But I’d do it again.  Sorry if that makes you want to vomit.  I even felt a little queasy.

But it’s true.

 

*And don’t say, “Well, you should try parenting XYZ.”  Bullshit.  I know other people have it more difficult than I do.  I know that people desperately want to parent and can’t.  But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t say or feel that parenting is really hard. Because it is.