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Next Life, NO Kids: June 2013

June 28, 2013

What If Someone Stole Your Words?

Last Thursday I had one of those days.

I got home from the preschool drop off and tried to make the most of the day, but time and exhaustion got the better of me. The baby was crabby, clingy, and refused to nap which left me with no free time and no me time.

I had a less than cordial conversation with my teenaged daughter about limits that left me questioning some of my parenting choices.  Then my mother called to rub my nose in it, leaving me questioning all desire to accept future phone calls.

It was kind of a rotten day. I felt like an open soar and continued to offer the opportunity to pour salt on my wounds to those around me. It’s so much easier to feel sorry for myself with evidence that the world is against me. Only months ago had I crawled out of a nine-month bout with postpartum depression and clearly I was still susceptible to the funk. I was knee deep.

My phone buzzed with a facebook notification and I picked it up. It was a post in a South Shore Swap page that I belong to, but it wasn’t a typical post. It was a dreadfully long story and the first few lines immediately intrigued me.

“Dear Mom,

I've seen you around. I've seen you screaming at your kids in public, I've seen you ignoring them at the playground, I've seen you unshowered and wearing last night's pajama pants at preschool drop-off…”

I was immediately offended because she was speaking directly to my fears of inadequacy. I continued reading because I wanted all the ammunition I could find to blast her for judging me. After reading further however, I started to melt and my shoulders started to fall away from my ears. Not only was the author NOT judging my failed attempts at mediocre parenting, she was encouraging my acceptance of them. 

I’m not sure at what point I started to bawl my eyes out, but it might have been somewhere after the “I know you didn’t get everything you wanted” part. This post rocked my core and filled me with gratitude. There were comments and likes galore on the post, letting me know I wasn’t alone.

I had to thank the author.

Originally, I thought this was just the rave of some housewife that wanted to cheer us up. I wanted to let her know how much it touched me and ask for permission to write about it on my blog. I sent the poster a private message.

     Conversation started June 20

Next Life, NO Kids                                           9:47pm
I'm sitting here bawling my eyes out after reading that status update that you accidentally posted in the swap group. I am beyond grateful for that mistake and needed to read that post more than I can tell you right now. 

Today has been one of those days and I feel like I'm the worst mother in the world. I wanted to throw a lamp at my teenager's head, and I contemplated throwing my three year old out the window several times. How did you know that? You couldn't have.

I woke up overwhelmed and dropped my son off at preschool in black sweatpants with baby booger stains all over them and my hair in a ratty bun. I convinced myself that everyone was judging me based on my appearance and that they were probably right.

I cannot thank you enough for this mistake. There are no coincidences, I believe that.

I'm actually a blogger and would LOVE to post this with some of my thoughts and feelings about it. You can visit my page and check it out first, of course. It's a mostly humor blog, but I occasionally blog about my post-partum depression and how cruel we moms can be to each other.

I'll be honest, when I first started reading your status, I started to get angry because I thought it was just another Judgy McJuderson act, but WOW. You blew me away and made my day. You took all of my feelings and normalized them long enough for me to forgive myself for being imperfect.

Thank you for accidentally posting this. Check out my blog and let me know if you'd be willing to let me share you with my readers. I'm quite certain that they will adore you almost as much as I do right now.


The Poster That Shall Remain Nameless        10:10pm

Your welcome to share it I'm glad it made you feel better! I actually got it from a fellow [    ] member, who got it off her Facebook! I wanted to pass it along to my status and accidentally posted it there! I definitely got more "likes" and more people actually reading it there than I would have on my own page! 
I am glad it made you feel better though! I think as moms we all have our rough days!

I don't know who originally wrote it. You can give me the credit if you like. Doesn't bother me either way.

I asked her some more questions and used the answers to do some research. Three websites later I found a post entitled "Dear Less-Than-Perfect Mom" by a beautiful woman named Lea Grover. As it turns out, someone shoplifted the words right off her Becoming SuperMommy blog and posted them on facebook as their own! It has been cut and pasted all over facebook without Lea's name attached. It has reached tens of thousands of people and she has received no credit. 

Can you imagine? This wonderful woman wrote this amazing post and then this. She had no idea this was happening and was extremely disappointed when I emailed her with the news. She is beyond humble, and forgiving even in this situation. She's an absolute sweetheart.

I made it my mission to help her and have unfortunately found many "Dear Mom" posts on facebook and some other sites. 

I need your help! 

If you see this post anywhere, please make it clear that these words  are copyrighted. They belong to Becoming SuperMommy and should not be used without her permission. If someone stole her wallet, would you help her fight for it? Sure you would.

John F. Kennedy once said, "One person can make a difference, and everyone should try." 

Lea has made a difference. 

Let's help her get her words back. 

Whether you love what you just read or hated everything about it, let's connect and talk about it! I'm always open to honest feedback. Come be social to me!

Find me on Facebook, Twitter, or on my Facebook Page!

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June 18, 2013

That's Right, I Hate A Four Year Old

There's not much that I hate more than that ungrateful little shit named Caillou, and his obnoxious sister Rosie. If I were their mother, I would live in the bathroom. 

Of course the kids love it, because who doesn't enjoy listening to a spoiled kid tantrum and whine about playing outside and eating lunch? 

Anyway, the stupid theme song for the wretched show is as catchy as tuberculosis, so I'm often stained with it for hours. Someone once told me that pain is mandatory, but suffering is optional. So...

Don't judge me; this is my very first vlog. I'm trusting you with my vlirginity. 

Make it special, People!!

Here's a little cheat sheet, in case you want to sing along. 

My Version Of The Stupid Caillou Song

I'm just a mom who's sick,
Of that little Caillou prick,
Who wants to claw their eyes?

 I do...

My kids seem to think he's swell,
I wish he'd fall into a well,
Who feels like they're in Hell?

 I do...

My ears are bleeding every day, 
with whining and crying, 
he's never okay!

Throwing up is not so tough, 
compared to this show, had enough, 
who is writing this dumb stuff? 




Kill me!

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