STFU, Parents

How (Not) To Talk About The Ferguson Decision

Tue, 25 Nov 2014 14:00:00 -0500

I’m behind on posts on the blog for personal reasons (in a nutshell: I’ll be back posting soon), and in the meantime I hope you’ve been reading my Mommyish columns (they can all be found right here). But quickly, I wanted to take a second to address – as I did with the Aurora theater massacre, the Sandy Hook massacre, the Boston bombings, and the Trayvon Martin case – how NOT to talk about horrific, tragic events on Facebook. And that is exactly what the Darren Wilson verdict the grand jury handed down last night is. Completely tragic, almost beyond words.

Social media is still pretty new to us. We don’t always have the language to describe how we feel about a tragedy, or a monumentally important decision made by a judge or jury, but social media compels people to talk. It prompts us to point to the elephant in the room and comment on it. I do understand why people roll two comments into one when every post in their feed appears to be an opinion, tribute (like the anniversary of 9/11), or news link surrounding a singular subject. They feel as though they have to acknowledge it, even if it’s just to brush it off before getting to their current “status,” so instead of appearing like an oblivious moron who’s only aware of her child’s sleep schedule, a person like Megan can feel “secure” in her update.

But one of the things social media has taught us is that what matters rises to the surface. If every post in your newsfeed is about how fucked up a country is, or how racism destroys lives and families – as many of our newsfeeds are today – that’s a social cue. It’s a suggestion to reflect on what’s important in a macrocosmic way. To step outside of your own stupid bullshit and either say nothing (which is always a good option), or constructively lend your voice to the conversation. It’s an indication that right now, no one needs to read about the mundane stuff. No one cares if your kid pooped in the bath, or if he’s babbling like a cutie patootie.

If you have a problem with that, then the problem is with YOU, and it’s actually not funny. Megan might think she’s being goofy and honest by saying she “never thought she would make a post like this,” but when I read her “Hahaha,” I don’t hear a cackle. I hear nervous laughter, because that’s what it should sound like. She should be embarrassed for hijacking a story that, at its heart, is about a teenager being murdered by a cop in the streets of his hometown. She has the luxury of knowing that her baby is still alive. Michael Brown’s parents, by contrast, will now attempt to celebrate their first Thanksgiving without him.

This Thanksgiving, be mindful. Don’t be a selfish asshole. If you are outraged by the verdict in Ferguson, as much of the country is, and as I am, speak out. Take action if you can. Donate to Ferguson’s public library. Educate any racist friends in your newsfeed, if you have them, or unfriend them and make a statement that way. This case has had a huge amount of publicity, but it’s only one story out of dozens of similar stories. We have a lot of problems in the States, but police brutality, particularly against people of color, has cast a shadow over this country for far too long.

At the very least, don’t detract from an important narrative by brushing it off to talk about your kid’s sleep schedule on Facebook. If you want to post about getting a good night’s sleep, go for it. But don’t mention Ferguson in your post. No one in that town has had a good night’s sleep since August 9th. Have some respect by showing respect. And don’t think this decision doesn’t or can’t impact you. It does, and it will, if it hasn’t already.

(submitted by Anonymous)

**UPDATE**

After linking to this post on Facebook, over 200 people unfollowed the STFUP FB page. Many people said terrible things and exhibited, as I wrote in the thread, some of the nastiest and darkest aspects of American society in their comments. But nothing made me feel sadder than receiving this:

This is a little boy. He’s just a kid. And he’s thrilled that a police officer won’t be tried for killing an unarmed teenager who then baked in the hot sun on a street for several hours. He’s filled with glee that the white cop got away with killing the black guy, because that’s what his parents taught him to feel. And he’s standing in front of a Christmas tree, completely unaware that he’s being groomed to have hatred in his heart, possibly for the rest of his life. He might even grow up caring more about the gun on his hip than the humanity that surrounds him, and I find that very sad.

To me, this type of update represents the face of America’s new generation of racists, and I won’t get this child’s manufactured smirk out of my head for a long time. He’s a pawn in his parents’ fucked up worldview, and they’re using him to perpetuate some deeply ingrained prejudices that have existed for centuries. What kind of person teaches his/her child to feel “excitement” over something so tragic? It’s impossible for me to comprehend.

Let's Get To Know Some Mama Bears

Mon, 06 Oct 2014 15:35:17 -0400

I’ve made no secret of my burgeoning appreciation for mothers who identify as “Mama Bears,” so it’s high time I devoted an entire post AND a column to all the ursine mamas (and papas, though there aren’t as many on social media) who are out there ripping shit up on the daily. It isn’t easy being a mama bear, constantly sizing up the next person whose limbs you want to tear apart with your razor sharp teeth and your great, big paws, and yet thousands of women take on the role with a visceral fierceness. Their primal instincts raging, mama bears rise from their slumber each and every morning (there’s no hibernating when you’re a MAMA BEAR!), ready to take on the world and defend their babies against a myriad of both real and imaginary threats.

Whether it’s protecting a toddler from a grumpy cafe owner, bullying another child on the playground, or throwing a plate of food on a bride at her wedding, mama bears know that attending to their children’s well-being and survival is always of the utmost importance. Even if that means screaming in a stranger’s face because she parked in a “parent parking” space. Even if it means growling at a fellow department store shopper for literally no reason at all. The mama bear is focussed. She is alert. And she *will* kill you – or write a semi-crazy status update about you on Facebook – if you’re not extremely careful.

Now, let’s get to know some mama bears! GRRRRRRRR.

1. A ~~Mama~~ Mumma Bear’s Mission Statement

I’m guessing that before Jen had kids, she was one of those people who went around saying stuff like, “I’ll be your best friend in the world until you cross me or one of my friends. After that, you’re fuckin’ dead to me.” That’s like the drama queen precursor to the mumma bear mission statement. If it sounds like Jen might be starring in a crime-thriller drama meets National Geographic documentary of her own design, it’s because she probably is.

2. LOUD AND PROUD AND IN CHARGE EXCLAMATION POINTS

If you mess with the bull, you’re gonna get the horns. And if you mess with the mamma bears nest, you better watch out cuz she will fight back!!!!!! I mean, right?? This is like a slogan for a new generation. Amen!!!

Mamma Bear Erica appears to have many redeeming characteristics (spelling not chief among them), but being an effective communicator has to be her strongest trait. Do I believe that Erica is a nest-keeper and CAPS aficionado who loves her kids more than anything? Probably. Do I think that Erica’s version of “fighting back” involves permanent facial scars, shattered glass, busted tires, and light arson? Oh hell yeah.

3. She’ll Eat A Face Off

I don’t mean to turn into my mother at such a young age, but what in the fuck kind of terrible grammar are these women using? “I would have went off on them”; “I would have went absolutely psycho”; “I would of hit the bitch”??? What?? All I ask in this crazy, mixed-up world is that people learn the differences between of/have, to/too, your/you’re, and so forth. These are not hard lessons to learn. If you want to talk shit about people appropriately, then you must do so correctly, as my great-great-great grandmother used to say. But anyway, let’s find out what set Sarah off to the point of communicating in angry red face mama bear emoji math equations.

“I’ll eat a face off when it comes to my babies though.” Damn, Sarah. That’s a powerful statement. Whenever I finally start living the dream and launch my Mama Bear Maternity fashion line, you better believe that “eat a face off” creed will be plastered across t-shirts and sweatpants made exclusively for mama bears, by mama bears. In the meantime, Sarah and her friends all sound like women who have nothing better to do than freak out about a retail employee on Facebook, which, by definition, is a luxury. If Sarah was smart, she would’ve just taken a tip from Grandma Hirst at the Dollar General, who doesn’t make any “face-eating” threats. She just gets even.

4. What Is This I Don’t Even

This is a real conversation between two grown-ass women on Facebook, but it sounds like they’re at a support group for aggressive mothers who sympathize with each other’s violent urges. I can picture it now: a bunch of women sitting in a circle, clutching stress balls, and saying things like, “I’m a fierce Mama Rhino. You may think I’m a gentle giant, but my lower incisors will stop you dead in your tracks!”, or, “I’m like a Mama Velociraptor. I’ll hunt down anyone who doesn’t wave back at my child in the mall and slice their throat with my sickle claw! JUST TEST ME,” and then all the other women in the circle are like, “I know that’s right, girl. Scratch their eyes out before you eat their face lol. We mamas love to hiss and growl and scratch!!” Maybe these moms just need a meditation practice or something.

5. Woe Is Mama Bear

OMFG it’s like the Department of Public Works employees traipse around town, drilling and jackhammering and making a ruckus whenever and wherever they want, and supposedly “on behalf of the city,” but how is that possible when a huge percentage of the city’s population is NAPPING when they’re working?!? Grrrrr! Hellooo, remember babies, anyone? They nap! And their mama bear mamas don’t appreciate it when their naps are interrupted by random drilling! Grrrr! You’d think that whoever makes the jackhammering schedule would keep sleeping children and their mama bears in mind, but apparently they don’t! SO annoying.

6. Mama Bears Must Punish Dogs For Existing

If you kick a dog in the neck, abuse it, or consider carrying a weapon with the explicit purpose of injuring a dog all in an effort to “protect your babies” when no dog has so much as growled at your child, might I propose that it is YOU who has the problem? This isn’t a “Never mess with a mama bear” thing. This is an asshole thing. Every single one of these women (except for Gold Star M.) sounds like she’s practically trying to earn her Kick a Dog In the Neck Mama Bear Merit Badge so she can brag about what a protective mama she is.

I applaud Gold Star M. for standing up for the dogs despite going up against a maul of mama bears. Not that I think mixing babies and dogs is always a smart idea (though oftentimes it is!), but let’s get something straight: If a dog “happens to bite” a child, it could very well be because the child did something abusive to the dog first. Maybe mama bears should reserve their “instinctual violence” for the people and dogs that actually deserve it. Which is, of course, to say, none of them.

Don’t forget to get to know some more mama bears – including one “momma” who’s had just about enough of the world’s brutal terrorists, thankyouverymuch – by reading my column over on Mommyish!

(submitted by Anonymous)

Allow Me To Introduce You To Sean's Sandwiches

Fri, 19 Sep 2014 15:52:00 -0400

Our story begins back in 2011 when a submitter started sending me random pictures of sandwiches. Sean’s sandwiches, to be exact, which were being delivered to the world via his mom Laurie’s Facebook page. Over the course of several emails, I got to know a wide variety of sandwiches in young Sean’s diet – of his own design – and boy, did they look tasty.

Every day, for god knows how long, Sean made himself a new type of sandwich inspired by both the culinary arts and his limited understanding of “foods” and “cuisines.” And every day, Laurie posted a picture of Sean’s sandwich du jour (aka his ‘SOD’, or 'sandwich of the day’) on Facebook for her friends to see (and imagine eating / fear). A chef needs to start somewhere, and for Sean, his entryway into the food industry involved two slices of bread and a ~~tiny amount~~ whole lot of imagination. Also, several jars of peanut butter, as most dreams require.

I can only assume that by now, three years later, Sean is packing himself gourmet sack lunches filled with delicacies like Cajun turkey and aged cheddar roll-ups and homemade pop tarts with artisanal dipping sauces, but for today, thanks to Laurie’s unwavering dedication, let’s take a glimpse at the origin of Sean’s foodie journey. As was the case with Brenda, Mindy, and the ridiculous parent protests covered thus far on the blog, this post isn’t about scorning a parent for offensive wrongdoing so much as peering into a world of deep obsession. Laurie may be considerably saner than the parents who freaked out about the shortage of “Frozen” merchandise or the woman who lost her shit over her kid's birthday party hat, but her decision to post literally dozens of photos of Sean’s mildly disgusting yet totally banal sandwiches (which are a far cry from Scanwiches, mind you) is a real testament to her intestinal fortitude.

Prepare to have your tummy rumbled.

Something you’ll quickly come to learn is that Sean is a big fan of mixing breakfast with lunch, in sandwich form. Cool concept, except clearly no one has schooled Sean on the joys of a breakfast burrito or any other kind of proper brunch item. Forget about getting creative and using pancakes in place of traditional bread. Sean’s sandwich scope is so restricted, he just winds up with peanut butter, jelly, and “rabbit food.”

Fiber One® Original aside, this particular photo was posted during a brief window of sincere amusement in the process of building the official 'Sean’s sandwiches’ gallery. At this stage, Laurie’s friends are still along for the ride and happy to contribute funny quips. But by the time Laurie posted the sandwich in the next example, her friends had grown impatient and repulsed.

“Stay tuned” is the kind of thing you say to people who aren’t throwing up in their mouths in response your son’s latest inedible creation. I’m not sure you could pay any of these people to take a bite out of this peanut butter and scrambled egg sandwich, but I can tell you FOR SURE that it needs hot sauce. (And I suppose some cheese, like Emily suggested, but at the same time that sounds disgusting.)

Can you guys even handle what Sean made for himself on his birthday?

This is possibly the only sandwich that makes sense to me. Kids love peanut butter. Everyone loves bacon. Sandwiches rule. Slap 'em all together and you’ve got yourself one hell of a birthday lunch. Good going, Sean. This is what age maturity looks like.

Or is it?

Okay, Laurie, are you fucking kidding me with that caption? It’s January 31st, you’ve been posting pictures of sandwiches for DAYS, and you still think you need to explain – on February 3rd, in response to no one – just how this whole specialty sandwich game works? No. Everyone gets it by now, and sure, I wouldn’t call the above sandwich “boring,” but that’s only because the first 500 words that come to mind are synonymous with “texturally vile” and “visually terrifying.” Couldn’t “Daddy” have suggested something that might actually taste good, like adding honey? Or grilling it? There are so many ways to enhance and otherwise not ruin a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it appears Sean insisted on ignoring all of them.

And yet…I guess that flair of disgust is exactly what sets Sean’s sandwiches apart. He’s an artiste, a sandwich crafter, and he’s stretching to do something new each day. The bread is his canvas, and on January 31st, those noodles were his muse.

Like Laurie said, this one also almost makes sense. It KIND OF makes sense. I mean, if I was heavily intoxicated and had a choice between eating this sandwich OR one of those sad-looking hot dogs that’s been cooking for multiple days in a gas station, I might eat the sandwich. But seriously, does Laurie have ANYTHING ELSE in her kitchen other than bread, peanut butter, jelly, bacon, pasta, and eggs?!! I know these sandwiches are like the PB&J equivalent of a children’s menu at a family friendly chain restaurant, but I’m starting to get a little suspicious. The question must be asked: Is Laurie forcing Sean to eat these disgusting sandwiches?! Whose idea are they really?

Oh Laurie don’t flatter yourself. No one thinks it’s child abuse that your kid is eating the grossest sandwiches this side of the Mississippi for lunch every day; people just kinda wonder why you’re so fixated on them. And when you’re going to hit up the grocery store, because a little variety never hurt anyone.

Well, Emily got that cheese she was craving. I, on the other hand, feel like barfing into an old sock. Normally I’m a fan of cheese, particularly with my eggs, but the addition of cheese flavor might be even grosser than the pasta texture in that other submission. I don’t want to know what a PB&J with cheese and pasta would be like, but thankfully, we’ll probably never find out. I think we can assume Sean has better taste than that.

This is where I feel like Sean started to cross over into the Dark Side of sandwich-making. Two spoonfuls of SpongeBob Squarepants cheesy pasta atop a generous smear of jelly? With “a side of mac and cheese”? This is starting to make me yearn for those obnoxious parents who brag about sushi being their kid’s favorite food. Not that I think it would be even remotely responsible to introduce Sean to sushi at this stage of his sandwich-making pursuits. I don’t think I could handle anything weirder than pasta at this point.

“This was not one of his favorite sandwiches.” NO SHIT, IT’S A QUARTER CUP OF COUSCOUS DISTRIBUTED ATOP A PIECE OF JELLY BREAD. And John, I’m pretty sure you answered your own question there, buddy, because couscous is at the bottom of the sandwich ingredients barrel. Here’s what I’ve been led to believe solely exists in Laurie’s refrigerator and pantry:

an endless supply of bread
enough peanut butter to feed a small country
so much jelly you would not even fucking believe it
a hen that lays an average of a dozen eggs per day
Fiber One® Original, for crunch
parmesan flavor couscous (for sandwiches)
bacon, because duh

Seriously, Laurie, when are you going to expand your son’s sandwich horizon and do a little Googling? A basic “how to make good sandwiches that don’t cause nausea” search would do wonders for Sean’s upcoming lunches, not to mention bring some much-needed vitality to this repetitive photo gallery that gets grosser by the day. I know you can come up with some ideas if you just try.

Oh good god.

Andrew, with all due respect, that must be because you and your friends have tedious jobs. I can appreciate killing an afternoon on Twitter to make fun of the woman who vowed to make her boyfriend 300 sandwiches, but if I’m not looking at straight up food porn (i.e. good-tasting sandwiches), OR something monumentally awesome that 99% of kids can’t make, then I’m good on hearing about Sean’s PB&J sandwich variations.

Of course, now that I’m saying this, Sean will probably score a huge book deal. Hopefully he’s up to the challenge and is willing to try some new recipes (it has been three years, after all). According to the final three sandwich images in today’s journey, Sean is well on his way to exploring new territory:

Maybe Sean should open the Sean’s Stoner Café, where patrons can choose how to customize their PB&J sandwiches with a variety of delicious and “nutritious” buffet-style options. Cheetos are an obvious, yet bold, choice. It’s the perfect post-blunt treat.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “…and for dessert?” Sean’s got you covered.

Thanks for specificity, Laurie! I wasn’t totally sure if that corn was off the cob or if it was frozen (with Sean, you never know!), but either way I’m sure it made a splendid dessert course with the strawberries, Nutella, and Sean’s signature whole wheat bread.

But don’t go thinking Sean doesn’t have other, grander plans for strawberries. Strawberries and Nutella are “fine,” but that combination is a little too conventional for a guy like Sean. A little too pedestrian. When you’re eating a Sean’s Sandwich, you’ll know by the unpredictable flavor profiles.

I can’t make heads or tails of this strawberry shrimp peanut butter sandwich, but thanks for all the sandwich memories, Laurie. I was going to say that I really, truly hope that you’ve encouraged Sean to break out of his peanut butter period – as creamy as it’s been – or at least started buying some new stuff at the store – but then I heard back from the submitter on the status of the 'Sean’s sandwiches’ gallery. Here is what she said:

The most recent one was February of this year. There are 74 sandwiches in total.

Then she added:

This is the SOD (sandwich of the day) artist himself. His latest creation is seen below. Banana in a tortilla.

Attached was the following image:

I….don’t even know what to say. It’s been three years, and we’re at “banana wrapped in a tortilla”? Unspeakable euphemisms aside, this news is disappointing. Maybe Laurie should get Sean a Vitamix so he can tighten his smoothie game or something. Although to be honest, I don’t think I’d want to know what he would put in them.

And now, at long last, a Sean’s Sandwiches Retrospective. It looks like we missed some Ritz crackers (good choice), raisins (nope), and the Sean’s Stoner Café famed apple slices 'n jelly sandwich, but hey, at least the kid like to cook, right? Laurie’s daily documentation has proven that much (and more).

(submitted by Anonymous)

**Update**

How could I forget to include one of Sean’s greatest creations? WHO WOULDN’T WANT TO EAT THIS??

If you’ve deduced that that’s jelly and tomato sauce, you are correct!

I’ve never heard anyone use “creative” as a euphemism for “revolting.” If Catherine is implying a sly sandwich insult with that comment, I tip my hat to her.

BAM!

Back-To-School Round-Up!

Fri, 12 Sep 2014 11:00:00 -0400

Back-to-school can be a complicated time for parents whose emotions, and Facebook updates, are pulsing with intense frequency. Not even on the most photo-heavy of holidays will you see such a constant stream of singularly-themed content – backpack after backpack, lunchbox after lunchbox – posted with so much pride and excitement.

Don’t get me wrong, the first day of school has always been an exciting occasion – for children. But I don’t recall my parents getting especially “excited” about my first day(s) of school, although I’m sure they were thrilled to be rid of me for eight consecutive hours a day. Not one “first day of school” picture exists of me or my brother, and when I called to ask my parents what they were “feeling” on my first day of school, my father’s response was, “What was I feeling? I was feeling like getting you out the door so you could get to the bus stop on time,” and my (retired high school teacher) mother’s response was, “It wasn’t a big deal. We didn’t take any pictures, and I’ve never seen any pictures in anyone’s house of their kids on the first day. I do remember that all the parents would gather at a house down the street after the bus took you guys to school, and we would have coffee and doughnuts and stuff. But that was more of a celebration. It wasn’t about the kids, it was about the kids being gone, FINALLY! And that was a longstanding neighborhood tradition!” Then she kind of trailed off and started listing the different types of foods they ate: coffee cake, doughnuts, muffins, fruit. And then she paused for a minute before saying, "You had a very normal upbringing. Whatever’s happened afterwards is all on you. HAHAHA!!!!“ and cackled loudly until we got off the phone.

In other words, the "traditions"of yesteryear don’t have much to do with idolizing children or even showing them off in their cute outfits. You kind of couldn’t. What were you going to do, take a roll of film to the drugstore and get the photos developed right away so you could show every person you came into contact with twelve or thirty or even just one photo of your kid standing on the driveway (and likely not holding a fancy life-sized chalkboard detailing their likes, dislikes, bucket lists, and whatnot)? No. It didn’t make sense then. But who knows, maybe if the internet and digital cameras and Facebook had existed at that time, our parents would’ve done the same thing, just before celebrating the first day of school with coffee and doughnuts alone, on Instagram. God, that sounds depressing.

That being said, back-to-school is not a bleak time in 2014. It’s full of smiles and hair bows and trendy T-shirts, and social media is the perfect place for parents to express themselves. Unless, of course, they suck at it. And about 99% of the time that’s the case, it’s because the parent is some kind of helicopter mom-mama bear "fierce protector” hybrid. It’s how we’ve come to live in a world where memos like this get sent home to parents (this one from a school in Australia):

“…these types of moves” makes me think of breakdancing, or twerking, or maybe dancing in a Satanic ritual circle with knives. Cartwheels, handstands, and other gymnastics “moves” performed by children just seem like “regular movement” for kids who are already bouncing off the walls with excessive amounts of energy. Kids can’t help that their natural levels of adrenaline often lead to intentionally falling down or diving off of tall structures or running and tumbling into cartwheels or handsprings. That’s just what they do. At this point, I’m waiting for the average PE class to consist of eating a Clif bar and sitting in a gaming room.

Anyway, the point is – back-to-school has practically been elevated to holiday status, and lots of parents on social media have had a field day (of sorts) since the middle of August. They’re all somewhat obsessed with their children, and yet their reactions to their kids returning to (or entering) school vary. Let’s check out some examples and then put this special scholastic time back on reserve until next August. (Note to parents: If your kid gets a new backpack anytime between mid-September and May, try to refrain from posting a picture.)

1. Helicopter Mom Pride

Little Issabella looks mighty excited and cute in these pre-k pictures – but is it a multi-photo gallery worth of cute? Could this album have been trimmed down a bit? Aw, who cares. Why take time to hate on something that doesn’t happen every day, right? You only start pre-k once, and Issabella is thrilled to have her picture taken by her mom. Plus, it’s not like Tabitha is going to force anyone to endure this level of documom pride on a daily basis. It’s a special occasion!

Ah. Never mind. Poor Issabella. When will parents learn that most humans, even tiny ones, aren’t huge fans of having their picture(s) taken before 8 a.m.? By the time Issabella is done with pre-k, she’ll probably have “accidentally” broken her mom’s camera at least 20 times, and all of her mom’s Facebook friends will be extremely understanding about it.

2. First Day Of School Pics On The Second Day

This is the same ridiculous logic parents use when they hold back their kid so he’s the oldest in his class instead of the youngest. Sure, the dad being described in this tweet may have received more “Likes” or algorithmically come out on top in his friends’ newsfeeds, but how many of them wandered over to another platform to mock him for it? (At least one.)

3. Daily Love Notes

This submission is a good example of the reason some parents hate STFU, Parents. On its face, this note is a perfectly nice gesture being made by a caring mother who, through no fault of her own, still doesn’t know that alot is not a word. But the act of taking a self-congratulatory picture and then posting it on Facebook (as opposed to taking a quiet, innocent photo and keeping as a sentimental token) is what takes this from “aww” status to “we get it, lady” status. I’m not proposing that parents shouldn’t write their kids clingy, lovey-dovey notes that say “I’ll miss you while you’re learning in school” (??) and then stick them in their lunch pails with a wink and a smile, because…well, okay, that’s fine, I guess, but by posting a picture of the note online, the meaning gets a bit skewed. Who is this photo for exactly?

When I asked the submitter whether Kerri had posted the other five days’ worth of notes, she wrote, “This year, she has only posted the 6th day of school note (so random!) and the 1st day of school notes that she wrote to all of her children. 1st day of school note? Sure. That’s not too off the wall. 6th day? Crazy. She did post notes on Facebook last year but I only remember the 1st day notes."

In other words, the lasting impression that (at least one of) Kerri’s friends have when seeing these pictures of notes isn’t, "Oh my goodness, what an amazing mother she is!” but rather, “Why is she doing this?"

4. Helicopter High School Parents Are Unsurprisingly Overbearing

This was a comment on the Facebook thread for my Mommyish back-to-school column:

Any parent who’s this involved in her high schooler’s class schedule needs to pick up a new hobby, and I don’t mean silkscreening shirts that say "Ask Me About My Kid” or blogging about creative food art parents can make for their teens. I’m talking about something outside of the mom sphere. My own mom was pretty heavily involved in knowing which teachers I had for what classes in high school, but she sure as shit didn’t know how many times I stopped at my locker, or how difficult it was to drive my car off campus to skip 5th and 6th period. (SO hard.) Part of the fun of high school is that you feel kinda-sorta grown up. If you treat teenagers like babies, they’ll resent you for it. And if you admit to all of your Facebook friends that you’re hovering over your teenager to the point where he can’t even walk from homeroom to 1st period or masturbate in the shower in peace, they’ll probably think you should get a life.

5. SO BLESSED

Oh man, how will those 50 million children who are forced to attend “school” in buildings full of total strangers ever cope? How will they manage their teachers’ expectations not to “fail” (according to some Draconian definition of failure) without incurring acute psychological damage? The outrageous proposition that children as young as five years old should have to deal with externally imposed standards plus semi-Fascist rules like bathroom passes, hall monitors, and assigned seating in class (sometimes in wholly unfair, alphabetical contexts) is practically barbaric. Good luck to ‘em, though, each and every kid out there who’s part of “the system.” Let’s see how you little sheep fare in the laboratory. Best of luck to all!

6. Societal Bullies (sound like Holly)

Things you can afford to do, according to Holly, Societal Bully*:

Keep your kids at home until they’re married, or 40 (or 'til whenever)
Avoid entrusting a trained professional to teach, challenge, discipline, inspire, or mentor your child(ren)
Hear the aches and pains of the kids

Things you canNOT afford to do, also according to HSB:

Live in a society that is a danger to your child(ren)
Abandon your child at school, forcing him to come to terms with your temporary, several hours-long absence several days a week
Have your child somewhere when there is too much going on (e.g. no one to wait on your child hand and foot, no one to listen to her needs, scratch her back, braid her hair, feed her Pepsi and chicken nuggets, etc. This is completely unaffordable.)

*Note: April, Barbara, and Casey should all de-friend this HSB bitch immediately.

7. A Sacrificial Preschool Offering

Parents do what they gotta do. And sometimes that comes in the form of a religious sacrifice. No one is saying that this is 100% for sure an extremist viewpoint and irrational way of approaching preschool, but I am saying that posting this verse on Facebook with that caption and that hashtag is more than a hair outside of my personal comfort zone. But I was raised Jewish, so I was just expected to marry a doctor or a lawyer in preschool. (ZING!) As long as church and state remain separate, so to speak, who am I to judge how this woman prepares to send her kid off to school? Even if it does sound like she’s suffering from “sonworship,” which could probably be its own category on this site.

8. Church vs. State vs. These Idiots

It’s funny how whenever someone says, “You must be doing something right,” in relation to things like imposing political or religious ideologies upon children, they sound like they genuinely believe that kids just grow up believing things, like they haven’t been influenced by their insular environment in any way whatsoever. “What a sweet little follower of the Lord, dispensing thoughtful blessings to his classmates inside the taxpayer-sustained walls of a classroom! Such a cutie patootie to proselytize at such a young age! Lord be with that teacher and the rest of the heathens who put their Jesus Talk™ to the side during the learnin’ hours. They’ve got another coming!"

Ugh.

SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE, PEOPLE. CHURCH AND FUCKING STATE!! I didn’t grow up in a Southern city where one friend told me that I didn’t ”look Jewish" only to bear witness to an accepted reversal of the centuries-spanning concept that people don’t have to listen to religious ~~garbage talk~~ Jesus Talk™ during school hours. NO I DID NOT!

And on that note…

9. KINDERHARRENER MAMA RAAAAGE

Who’s ready for the reality show “EXTREMELY CRAZY MOTHERS” other than me? Picture it: For 13 heart-stopping episodes, we follow a ferocious mama bear as she stalks a fifth grader with the absolute intention of beating the shit out him. Will she ever find out Tyler what’s-his-butt’s last name? Will she beat his stupid bully punk face in with her giant mama bear paws? Will a bystander film the whole confrontation on an iPhone, upload it to YouTube, and watch it go viral? Will the mama bear and her child’s bully appear on daytime television together and vow to hug it out just as soon as the child’s full-body cast comes off? Tune in to watch what happens in the oh-so-zany world of mama bears protecting their young! I’m thinking the show’s tagline can be: “U learn ur manners, or I’ll cram them down your fucking throat.”

Now, let’s all close our eyes, channel the ferocious serial killer mama bear within, form our fists into claws, and yell, “KINDERHARRENER!!!!!"

10. School Supply Verbal Smackdown

NEWSFLASH: Not all women are mothers. Also, not all mothers hate paying for school supplies. If the woman in this story had a fundamental understanding of these concepts, she could have avoided her check-out line embarrassment. But instead, she had her ass handed to her in the grocery store, which is not exactly at the top of my list of places to have my ass handed to me. I prefer places where I won’t be again anytime soon, like the DMV, the OBGYN, or the gym. The grocery store, though? You’re setting yourself up for future shopping bad vibes, and the last thing I need when I’m picking out produce is the feeling that everyone who works there knows what an asshole I am. Smooth move, woe is mom. Don’t even try to use any coupons in the near future.

11. Mom’s Gold Star

Is this the best thing ever or what? Someone please start (or point me in the direction of) the Dogs Wearing Backpacks Tumblr. We’ve all seen dogs inside backpacks, of course, (obviously), but dogs wearing backpacks (not to mention hopeful, adorable facial expressions, possibly with their tongues wagging) is a concept I’m confident I can’t get enough of. I might even be a proponent of incorporating more accessories. A sideways baseball cap, maybe those roller skate sneaker things that all the kids are wearing…a pair of Umbros, just to kick it old school? This dog can hang. He or she is going to step onto that big yellow school bus and make friends with the first kid s/he sees. This is the picture of success.

If only I could dole out the Gold Star to a specific person. Unfortunately, I don’t know who wrote this status update, nor do I know what those 15 comments say (but I’m guessing they’re along the lines of, "This is the best thing I’ve ever seen, thank you so much,” and, “What did you pack for lunch: the raw meat or the kibble? ;)”). But whoever you are, I like your steez. And I like your dog. With all due respect to my friends and relatives whose cute pictures I’ve sincerely “Liked,” this might be my favorite back-to-school picture of all time. Woof!

To read more back-to-school posts, check out one of my favorite posts or my recent column on Mommyish! You can also read my column from this week, 'Parents Who Brag About Their Kids’ Achievements On Facebook’ – featuring a toddler named Montana who unironically pieces together a puzzle of the United States – right here!

(submitted by Anonymous)

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Wed, 03 Sep 2014 15:48:11 -0400

Hello, and welcome back to the recently idle Electronic Oversharing Parents Tell-Off Courier! It’s been a couple of months since I last updated the site – which I realize is actually a really long time in blog land, and I am very sorry for the delay – but that does NOT mean that the blog and I are engaging in a conscious uncoupling. No, we’re not breaking up at all, and I did not incinerate thousands of carefully organized digital submissions while crying into an oversized baby bottle of wine. It’s more like, sometimes you love something so much, you have to temporarily set it free. You have to step back and look a middle-aged blog in its big brown eyes and say, “It’s not you, it’s me. Let’s see what’s going on in a couple of months.”

Thankfully, in this case, the site made its way back to me like a boomerang straight to my heart. I truly missed posting about mommyjacking and stroller rants and the next big placenta craze (which I’m hoping will be cheesy placenta fondue – plastic “mom bib” required!). I even started to miss the ;sanctimommies and the documoms. Oh, hell, I missed it all! Also, my inbox let me know when it was “time.” Once I started receiving emails like this, I knew I was destined to put up a new post, if only to avoid any further shame and embarrassment:

My favorite thing about this email – which was totally warranted and surprisingly made me feel good – is that, according to my records, this person has never emailed me before. It’s kind of like my hard-ass fairy godmother took a break from her busy yarn-bombing schedule to momentarily swoop in and slap me around. And I’m grateful that she did! It was about time to get back to posting anyway. Summer is over, and school is back in session. (That sound you’re hearing is a school bell followed by a loud rant about babies sleeping.)

I’ve already written a new column about back-to-school over on Mommyish, and I’ll be posting a round-up here, too, just to officially kick off The Return Of the Blog. I know it’s been a while, but play time is over, y'all. It’s time to get back to doing what I do best. Er, doing whatever it is that I do. Excessively long blog posts about parents who abuse social media aren’t going to write themselves, now are they?!! (NO, THEY’RE NOT. I kept checking every week or so like some of you guys, and nope, no one wrote any new posts.)

But before the back-to-school kickoff, I wanted to post a “summer summary” of some things that have come across my screen since my last post in June. It’s only been two months, but so much has happened! Some of it funny, some of it tragic, and a lot of it worth sharing on the blog. This post is like a snapshot of social media responses to summer trends, holidays, current events, neighborhood sightings, and more.

I hope everyone’s had an awesome summer (or winter, depending on where you live). Let’s do this.

(SPECIAL CAPS LOCK DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS REALLY LONG, SO YOU MAY WANT TO CURL UP UNDER A BLANKET, POUR YOURSELF A BEVERAGE, AND LISTEN TO SOME ROOTS REGGAE TO EASE YOUR TRANSITION INTO MY MEANDERING SUBMISSION TUNNEL OF RANDOM ODDITIES. HOPEFULLY YOU’LL ENJOY THE RIDE.)

Here’s what society lobbed at us in July and August:

1. We Continued To Talk About, And Hopefully Learn From, Terrible Names

Shortly after putting up the last post (about ridiculous names), I got this:

SERIOUSLY, can you believe that someone would name their child Serious?! Oh, you can? Same here. Nothing surprises me anymore. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Serious has a twin sister named SiriusXM. That’s how little faith I have in parents’ naming abilities at this point.

I can’t hear the name “Honeydip” without getting the song “Da Dip” in my head, which is both a blessing and a curse. Anyone who’s had that song stuck in their head knows what I’m talking about. Parents: don’t make people think of "Da Dip" every time they hear your kid’s name. And while we’re at it, it’s probably also not a good idea to make people think of something “tasty.” I wouldn’t name my kid Dijon or Cake Pop for the same reason.

One thing’s for sure: If this child ever gets famous by doing something extraordinary, or being expertly skilled, or going on reality television, she’ll have no need for multiple names. She will be known simply (“simply”) as “Annalayah,” or possibly “Zenobia,” although everyone already knows the OG Zenobia was a 3rd-century Queen of the Palmyrene Empire in Syria who led a famous revolt against the Roman Empire following Odaenathus’ death in 267 A.D. I mean, duh, right?! TOTES OBVS, ya gotta wonder why Lanessa went with such a pedestrian middle name.

2. We Debated Very Important Questions Like The Below

Ugh, I can’t tell you guys how many hours I sat and quietly pondered this question back in July. I was super grateful to People for posing it on its website. At first I was like, “Yes, Cameron Diaz is clearly being selfish because she’s chosen to wear wet men’s apparel in a magazine photo shoot when she could’ve been breastfeeding a newborn or adopting however many children she can afford (20?).” But then I was like, “Waaaaait a second. Who am I to judge a woman on whether or not she has kids? And why don’t we ever ask this question of male celebrities? Why does no one care if George Clooney has kids??! His kids would be SO good-looking and have SUCH good hair and maybe play doctors on TV, and it’s like no one fucking cares! GOD I HATE THIS BLATANT DISPLAY OF SEXISM IN OUR SOCIETY!!!” It was around this time that I closed my computer and went to a pool or a barbecue or something. But for a long time – several hours, at least – I was extremely concerned about Cameron Diaz. I look forward to the forthcoming tearjerker documentary, “Cameron’s Choice.”

3. We Celebrated The Fourth Of July

Did anyone else read Staci’s status update and imagine her sitting on the couch next to a bedazzled bullhorn and an extra large bucket of fried chicken? Anyone who’s renamed Independence Day to ‘You Wake Up My Babies With Your Damn Fireworks and Momma’s NOT Gonna Be Happy Day’ seems like she’s building her strength and preserving her energies for a loooong day of complaining ahead. Do not even think about daring a mama bear like Staci to do something about her fireworks-loving neighbors, because things *could* get violent. You don’t want that blood on your hands.

Staci, Kristen, and Ashley stand united, much like the States of America. They are Moms United Against Fireworks On The Fourth (MUAFOTF), and together, they, along with thousands of other tired and aggravated parents, will stand up for what’s right (via Facebook). They will use their First Amendment freedoms to speak out against the tyranny of the fireworks oppressors – especially those maddening little middle school and high school punks whose parents must not love them – and one day, maybe in a few years or so, they will persevere. Or maybe they’ll just stop caring altogether because they’ll realize how fruitless their efforts are. I’m not sure. Woe is mom.

4. We Told Our Neighbors To STFU

If your “Don’t Wake The Baby Or I’ll Fucking Murder You” yard sign is just plain black lettering on a simple white board, then I’ll be the first to say that I feel sorry for you. Today’s sleeping baby warning signs are as hip and trendy as a baby crawlin’ in heels. They come in leopard, zebra, and tiger stripe so you can show the world (and your neighbors) that you mean business. YOU are a wild mama bear who don’t care; THEY are the enemy. And what better way to express yourself than by dotting the lawn with aggressively colorful signs that ensure both mama and papa bear are unleashed and unhinged? “You wake her, You walk her! Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time! If you race away from the curve, I’ll come after your race-away ass with my shotgun!!"

5. We Wished Prince George A Happy First Birthday In Our Own Ways

Here’s what I want to know: Who up-voted Has11009’s comment that has nothing to do with Prince George? Doesn’t she realize that once those little babies start walking, her life is only going to get 15000 times more complicated? I wonder if she’s planning on using Prince George’s birthday as a barometer for her babies’ development rate forever, or just until they enter grade school. I guess we’ll have to check back in a few years to know for sure.

6. We Celebrated World Breastfeeding Week (Again)

I can’t read "in a toddler world” without hearing Don LaFontaine’s movie trailer voice. “In a toddler world that never slows down… Mommies nurse their babies on 17 month-long journeys… And their noms…are more than just milk."

I’m not going to lie; I’ve had this submission saved as "used to be on meth” for nearly a year. Not that we don’t all have acne-inducing skeletons in our closets (although I’ve never personally done meth), but I do find it interesting that the submitter wrote that ever since Isabella had her baby:

“…she has turned into a condescending and crazy lactivist who thinks the greatest achievement a woman could have is breastfeeding and giving birth. Also she has posted countless smug updates about breastfeeding and formula bashing; she even admitted on Facebook that she gets into verbal fights with strangers at the restaurant she works at just because they were formula feeding in her presence.The ironic (and maybe the most enraging) part is that this girl got hooked on meth in high school and never graduated, but she thinks she is sooo much better than everyone else (especially the child free) because she has a baby and breastfeeds. It’s like she honestly believes her kid is the next Einstein or gold winning athlete just because she drinks boob milk and can run around a store.

Let this be a lesson to everyone out there being sanctimonious about how healthy their children are while simultaneously trashing other people’s parenting methods: Your former high school classmates are watching. And they haven’t forgotten you.

Also, Alexis and Kristi can suck it. Pun intended. Although I realize that makes very little sense.

7. We Chatted On Facebook About Whether Parents Intentionally Reserve Airline Seats That Aren’t In The Same Row (Or Section) As Their Young Children, & This Person’s Comment Kinda Settled It For Me

Okay, so nearly every single other comment in that Facebook thread disproved the original theory, but this comment convinced me that there might be a nascent trend of parents using airline time (aka "rare quiet time in a contained airborne vessel”) to intentionally separate from their rambunctious toddlers who otherwise get "babysat" by flight attendants and seat neighbors. Based on Sheila’s comment, THIS HAS HAPPENED! (Note: If you’ve seen a similar arrangement during your summer travels or some other time, tell me your story in the comments!)

8. We Celebrated Dyson’s Birthday By Not Sending Him Gifts (Sorry, Dyson.)

Not a single one of us sent Dyson a birthday gift, and I disgracefully accept full responsibility for that. I didn’t post this submission nearly in time, and therefore no one even knew that Dyson had a birthday coming up. Let’s just hope that Naomi’s friends pulled through for the little guy, because Dyson is going to remember this birthday for the rest of his life. According to the submitter, he’s just turned one.

9. We Prepared Kids For The Future

Is this real world scenario between a father and son the biggest bummer of all real world scenarios that a person can innocently witness? This is what teaching your kid that everyone is a winner will get you – a “kid corrector,” the kind of kid who corrects you by saying things like, “Mommy says everyone deserves a trophy,” or, "Mommy says sugar-free cupcakes are just as good as regular cupcakes,“ or, "Mommy says that grades are entirely subjective.” I only wish the dad had handled the situation by continuing to race to the door and shouting, “I WIN! DAD WINS! HAHAHAHA! RUN FASTER NEXT TIME, SON!”

10. We Said Goodbye To Robin Williams

One of the saddest things that happened all summer was the still-unfathomable loss of Robin Williams. Thankfully, deathjackers like Jennessa were there to provide some much-needed PPR (Pumpkin Patch Relief) within mere hours of the official announcement. Sure, it was August 11th, so there wasn’t much to be seen at the pumpkin patch, but just look at how excited Billy was! And it’s a patch! Where pumpkins will grow! How awesomesauce is that?! Thank you, Jennessa, for giving everyone a break from their depressing newsfeeds. It was necessary and appreciated.

11. We Celebrated ~~Shark~~ Shart Week

GET IT YOU GUYS? It was “Shark Week” on the Discovery channel, so Lauren borrowed an unpredictable and never-before-heard joke about “Shart Week” when her son’s ass exploded all over his toy car! Haha, it was during the same week as Shark Week! She took a fun picture to show all her friends because that’s how Dallas and Lauren roll. It just doesn’t get crazier than that, folks. For the uninitiated: Dallas had to fart, but when he farted he accidentally pooped everywhere, creating a messy “shart effect.” Do you see that gooey poop dripping all over the carpet? That’s his shart. And in case you were wondering, it smelled bad. Hahahaha…“Shart Week.”

12. We Continued The Debate About Changing Babies On Restaurant Tables

(ED. NOTE: Somehow this is still a debate?? I will never stop writing about this horrid, contemptible sign of our times. NEVARR!!!)

Ew, Kala. Just ew. Are you saying that you’ve never made it through an entire meal with your toddler without changing a poopy diaper? I’m assuming that means dirty diapers have been changed on restaurant tables in every eatery in Spring Hill, Tennessee that doesn’t have an official changing table in the bathroom. Here’s a serious question, though: When are today’s young parents going to realize that changing tables in public restrooms were only popularized in the late '80s and '90s, and that anyone who’s changed a dirty diaper on a restaurant table either before, during, or after that time frame is an asshole? I’m sorry, people. I try to be open-minded about things. I really do. I even started coming around on the pervasiveness of ultrasound photos on Facebook. But I refuse to accept this vile practice as the norm.

13. And Then This Happened.

The Great Shitted Pants “Incident” Of 2014 happened to a friend of a friend in August, and he posted this picture on Facebook. Let’s all be glad we aren’t the person who naively, trustingly, and in good faith deposited a load of laundry into his or her building’s washer, only to come back downstairs exactly 34 minutes later to discover that every single article of clothing had been ruined by a small child's shitted pants. This person will undoubtedly cast a stink eye in the direction of any toddler s/he sees in the building from here on out, always wondering, “Was it you? Is it YOUR mommy and daddy that I hate?"

You should have more consideration for your neighbors.

14. We Haggled.

This is the kind of thing that used to be reserved for private community message boards, but now gets posted straight to Facebook. It’s completely normal to be all, "Hey friends! Happy Tuesday. Quick question: Anyone around this joint need a placenta? It’s the temporary organ I carried in my uterus for several months before I birthed it. Totally healthy. Kinda smells funny but otherwise good to go. LMK.”

15. We Overdosed On #ALSIceBucketChallenge Videos & Then This Happened

The #ALSChallenge was indeed one of the most challenging times in the history of Facebook, and for me, that was for one reason: It was the social media equivalent of watching an episode of “Dora the Explorer.” My newsfeed got so watered down, I was close to avoiding it altogether. Yes, it was wonderful to see so many people raising awareness (ugh) for a noble cause, but really, what were we collectively thinking? And since when has Facebook been a repository for “clean” anything? Clean photos, clean referral stories, clean language? No.

Facebook is a place for adults to act like muthafuckin’ adults. And the Ice Bucket Challenge may have been a “clean” activity, but not everyone who participated kept it clean. (Shout out to the adorably-accented cursing toddler.) The mother in the above submission is such a puritanical sanctimommy, she wants you to unfriend her AND personally let her know so she can add you to her bespoke parchment hater scroll that she keeps on her bedside table. She wants to know who “really matters.” She doesn’t see the irony in allowing her toddler to use Facebook while demanding that adults “keep it clean.” Nice try, lady. I don’t think so.

16. Mom’s Gold Star: Dog Days Of Summer Edition

With summer fading, there’s one group in particular that can’t help but smile: parents. Parents have been around their children for more time than usual over the course of what may have felt like five or six months despite just being two. Throughout the summer, I watched as my friends posted updates that indicated that yes, they love their children, but also they love not having them around quite so much. Something about Claire’s update encapsulates this for me, but she may have just been randomly talking about her kid’s uncanny ability to verbalize every sighting of any mode of transportation at all times. Kids are talented like that.

I cannot look at this picture without laughing. I kind of want to blow it up and frame it for over my desk so I can look at it and laugh all day. It’s the big toe on the right foot that gets me. Well-played, Lauren and her skillful future salon technician. I see a lot of promise and destroyed French manicures in little Annie’s future. Bring on the nail art.

Don’t forget to head over to Mommyish to read my Back-To-School column! I also wrote a few columns during my “brief hiatus.” Everything can be found and read right here!

(submitted by Anonymous)

Yoonique Names: Mid-Year Baby Names Dump Edition

Fri, 20 Jun 2014 16:29:00 -0400

A few weeks ago, this image was volleyed all over the internet and celebrated for its khurious yet unmistakhably yoonique charm:

That’s right, Kharringtyn-McKhynleigh is heading to khindergarten where she’ll learn precisely how diffikhult her name is to spell, whether it’s kharefully written on a sheet of wide-lined paper, inskhribed in a kholoring book, or skhribbled on the backh of a plate displaying makharoni art. Ohhh, how Kharringtyn-McKhynleigh Khaybryn Sparks’s elementary school teachers are going to revere her parents. Talk about two intelligent people who know what’s up with the future! They gave BOTH of their daughters names that’ll take them well into the 2030s and beyond, which is pretty smart considering so much of the workforce is soon going to be replaced by robots.

Thinkh about it: How are people going to stand out and appeal to future employers? By being smarter than robots? No. By having individuality. By being different, and what’s the very first thing hiring managers notice about job applicants? Their name. What kind of VP of a global corporation is going to give the rare “human jobs” of the future to candidates named “Steve” or “Linda”?? I’ll tell you who’s going to get those jobs: Kharringtyn-McKhynleigh Khaybryn Sparks and her sister Khayleigh-Huntyr. By the time 2035 rolls around, those names are going to be lukhrative as fukh.

With that truism in mind, and with media outlets oft reporting on the inkhreasing khonfusion over modern parents’ obsession with terrible baby names, I figured I’d put together a new batch of name submissions. In fact, in honor of all the hoopla surrounding the Social Security Administration’s annual baby name findings (*note to self: name future daughter ‘Hoopla’), I even wrote an additional column about baby names for Mommyish. That post includes the name “Leviticus Blade,” if you’re interested in checking it out.

So! Let’s get khrackhin’, shall we? From all-around odd name and spelling choices to baby name drama, here are my khurrent favorite submission pickhs (spoiler alert: I’m not sure any are as khreative as Kharringtyn-McKhynleigh Khaybryn Sparks, because that’s the best new fake name in the world, although there are some very strong contenders).

1. Musical Names

NEGATIVE COMMENTS, BE GONE!!! Kristi’s status update questionnaire is about harmony, so if you happen to be one of the many, many people who think that “musical” names don’t need to be interpreted quite this literally, you can keep your dissonant garbage talk to yourself. Kristi doesn’t need your bad vibes, and little "Legato" or “Demo” doesn’t need them, either. No one wants this thread to be off-pitch or out of tune, okay??

Other comments that Kristi will not tolerate on this thread:

Additional name suggestions for Baby B., such as Ophicleide, Mixtape, or Slur
Suggestions for accent marks on the names. (Yes, at one point Kristi and Jonathan were considering Encorè and Kōda, but they have decided against them for now. Please do not bring this up, as it will cause more tension than you can possibly imagine.)
Comments about Kristi and Jay’s decision to have the baby in the orchestra pit at their local performing arts centre. This has already been discussed at length, but for all you people in the back, once again: It will be the best place to serenade Kristi during labor and also the best place to record Baby B.’s first cries upon arrival which will be sampled in an upcoming performance. Please do not be offended if you don’t get invited to sit in the audience during the delivery, as there’s only room for 375 people. You will still have access to the live-stream if you’d like to witness Baby B.’s “solo” entrance into the world.

2. When Great Ideas Are Born

You say Phylyisity, I say Phillisity…. let’s call the whole thing off?? Like, for real though, consider calling it off. This name idea is terrible. Poor Phylyisity/Phillisity is almost assuredly going to be asked if she was named after the character in the '90s/'00s college drama “Felicity” at least 5 million times in her life, and instead of being able to say something like, “No, but the names are the same,” she’s going to have to say, “No, I was named after my dad, Phil, which is why my name is spelled Philliscitee/Philissity/Phillissiti, get it?! PHIL? If I was a boy I would’ve been Phil Jr., but since I’m not I got stuck with this shit."

I’m suddenly feeling very grateful that my parents didn’t name me after my dad, Harvey. Harvi and Harvette don’t sit right with me.

3. Judgement and Condemnation

This is the train wreck version of baby name drama, where you want to look away but you can’t, because for every rude and unnecessary jab M. makes, those of us who think "Chaestyn” is a dumb name feel slightly more victorious. By the time I got to the comment that mentions 'Designing Women’ AND soiled tank tops/Busch Light, I was ready to hand M. a medal. Sorry, R. You’re welcome to name your baby whatever the hell you want in America, and clearly you’re making use of that Constitutional right, so good on ya. Your friend J. is right that M. should stop tearing people down. And yet…M. is right, too, and we all know it. Stop pulling that 'Sex and The City' “I’ve loved the name Shayla since I was a little girl” bullshit, because it doesn’t really work after you’re out of high school.

4. “Wierdos”

Normally I don’t include comments from forum boards, but in this case the submitter wrote, “I was reading a column of yours about yoonique baby names, and I decided to look up how to pronounce Zhyrhyla and found this gem.” And oh, what a gem it is. I feel like there’s a real education to be discovered in Green’s comment. Namely, that when a person can’t spell “weirdos” or “thier,” yet touts the joys of “unique wonderful names,” she’s essentially saying, “Fuck the English language and it's stupid, petty rules. We are WIERD and we are AWSOME!” Somehow that is Green’s complete rationale for giving her children yoonique names, whether we wish to accept it or not. Or, as Green might write, except it. Or, as Green might also write, tpecxe it. You may not like the fact that people like Green are going to keep giving their kids names like Azelvynique and Zhyrhyla, but you can’t stop progress, you guys. You kan’t.

5. Hello, My Name Is Kemistry

Spelling isn’t an exact science, as proven by the reconfigured name of Rosalind’s friends’ new baby. In fact, the name 'Kemistry’ is kinda meta when you think about it. Konceived out of love (aka “chemistry”), a baby named Kemistry reminds us that the state of matter can always change forms, much like spelling can. Who says a word, or a name, isn’t volatile? Not Dajuan and Kalyse, the parents of baby Kemistry who know that if you mix 1 part yooniqueness with 2 parts kleverness, you can rearranje lettars of konventional werds to kreate sumthing knew! It’s like a kemikal reaktion.

6. Laughter Is the Best ~~Medicine~~ Baby Name

The submitter who sent this in deadpanned, “This girl I know named her child Laughter. No joke.” Something about that solemn introduction made the name Laughter seem suddenly depressing. What do you do when you’re in a bad mood and your name is Laughter? And what kind of parent gives their kid a name that references a human behavior? Are we naming the future leaders of the world, or are we casting the new dwarf in “Snow White”? Granted, Laughter is no Sing Praises, but it still gets pretty low marks on the scale of acceptability. You can pray for a successful VBAC and prevail, but you can’t prevent people from snickering at the name Laughter.

7. Baby Name Drama: Kristin Cavallari Edition

First of all, Stacie loses her superficial argument out of the gate by misspelling Kristin Cavallari’s name. Second, who gives a shit. And third, the submitter says that this status update jumped out at her in part because Stacie’s kids are both younger than Kristin Cavallari’s oldest kid. So, her whole point is moot, I guess? Also: I realize Stacie’s being playful here, but just as a reminder we are talking about the names Camden and Jaxon. These names still appear as farcical to me now as they did when I first saw them. “New trend” does not always equal “good trend.”

8. TOE-MAY-TOE, TOE-MAW-TOE

Remember when I posted a whole round-up (and column) about people who get amusingly aggro over their kids’ names? Who ARE these people? And does Sarah not realize that by typing “SAW-YER” next to “SOY-ER!!” in all CAPS, she sounds like a braying donkey? I hope she does.

Brooke’s well-timed use of “just saying” after the extended ellipses shows her earnest dedication to telling Chantelle to stop whining. Plus, “Shanquay” isn’t even remotely like “Chantelle.” A more accurate comparison would be “Chantelle” and “Chantal,” or perhaps “Shawntel.” Fun fact: All three of those names belong to former contestants on 'The Bachelor.’

9. Time Flys

This is one of those rare occasions when a context-less, stand-alone comment qualifies as worthy of posting. Whatever the original status update says is irrelevant (even if H. appears to be mommyjacking it), because the poetry of her comment supersedes its importance. H. has a daughter named 'Pheytan Madisyn’ who will be 1 year’s old in five short months, and the line “Time flys by so fast enjoy every moment in and out.” is so beautiful, I might get it tattooed across my back with a grandfather clock and a pair of wings on either side. H. may not be an ace with spelling or grammar, but she’s chock full of exceptional wisdom.

10. 1 for Da'Monie, 2 for Da'Show

Here’s the thing with apostrophe names: They’re not all bad, but we already abuse the apostrophe so much more than we should. We trot out apostrophes like they’re here for our fucking amusement, and they’re not. Soon, no one will have a freakin’ clue when to properly use apostrophes. In da'future, the me'aning will be lost forev'r.

11. …and Baby Makes Thr33

If you’re feeling pretty confident that no parents would actually name their baby Trilyn Thr33, allow me to confirm that this baby’s name is Trilyn Thr33. According to the submitter, “This couple has a little girl, their first kid, bringing their family total to three (that’s known as foreshadowing). She’s named…wait for it…Trilyn Thr33. With the numbers and everything.” Uh huh. Is it just me, or does the expression on that that teddy bear’s face say it all? There’s a quiet desperation in those sunken, beady eyes.

12. Nevaeh and Lleh

Last but not least, a little intentional comic relief provided by Evie, who is pregnant. The best part of this status update – aside from Evie openly mocking the name Nevaeh – is that for a split second, Natasliah appears to be a real name similar to “Natasha.” Evie went with the perfect counterpoint-backwards fake baby name to mirror the stupidity of Nevaeh, and for that, she has earned herself a Gold Star, otherwise known as a Rats Dlog.

Nice job, Evie. You really should start telling people that you’re naming your baby Natasliah just to see whether they “get it” or they merely smile and nod like most people have been trained to do whenever they hear a nü baby name. My guess is the baby could be named Tsirorret and no one would bat an eyelash. Ignorance is bliss!

For more baby names that’ll make you squint, shake your head, and slowly reach for a cocktail, head over to Mommyish to read my column!

(submitted by Anonymous)

*Update: This post is now one example short, as I received a request from Ceilidha and Rhynli’s mother to remove that submission.

Serious Points to Ponder: Are Finances On Facebook TMI?

Wed, 11 Jun 2014 13:08:44 -0400

A few years ago, when the U.S. economy was still pretty terrible, a nice and well-intentioned submitter (and parent) submitted this screenshot, writing, “This is a mommyjacking of the laid-off kind. I know the employment world is cruddy, but this one took the cake for me.” When I went back and looked in my email, I’d replied, “She really didn’t need to say that much.” For a while I wanted to post it, because it seemed topical and qualified as a mommyjacking, but I kept asking myself if Crystal really was sharing too much information. Is it worth shaming someone when she’s just being honest about her situation? And instead of slightly cringing inside, might it even be worth messaging to ask how to help in some way? I wound up not posting the submission because it started to seem wrong and cruel. Crystal even added a smiley to the end of her paragraph-long comment! I couldn’t bring myself to cast judgment.

I’ve never really been shy about the fact that I started this blog after losing my job in the fall of 2008, and I’m certainly no stranger to debt and financial strain, so I wanted to briefly share a video that a friend of mine has been working on for a really long time, and hopefully add to the conversation that the movie is prompting. It’s called “Spent: Looking For Change,” and it’s about Americans who don’t have a bank account or access to traditional financial services. People can wind up in that situation for a variety of reasons, including student loan debt, health complications, defaulting on bills due to being out of work, or even just a lack of financial education that results in a few years of bad credit choices. (I say this having experienced a few of these personally.)

The “underbanked,” which are people who “rely on cash and checks and tend to turn to alternative financial services, like check cashers, pawn shops, money order services and payday lenders,” are usually our friends, relatives, and coworkers, and yet most of us don’t really talk about our financial problems, either online or in real life. According to the “Spent” website, “this issue affects nearly 70 million Americans,” and, "the FDIC estimates that more than 40% of Americans have used an alternative financial service at some point in their life.“

It’s a national crisis that’s deeply unsettling, and since so many people who read this site can probably identify – or know someone who can – I thought I’d take a one-post pause from our regularly (or not-so-regularly) scheduled programming to highlight this 40 minute documentary. If you have a heart, it may shatter to pieces when you’re watching like mine did, and if you’re an American worker (which I realize not all of you are), it will likely inspire you to consider the current legislative climate (and possibly help raise discussion by sharing the movie on Facebook). At the very least, I hope you’ll watch it. Feel free to write about your own experiences in the comments, too, if you’d like. I know this issue is pretty off-topic for the blog, so if this post is of absolutely no interest to you, don’t worry – I’ll be back with a new post later today. In the meantime, here’s one of my new favorite Mom’s Gold Star submissions:

We should all aspire to Danny levels of leisure.

(submitted by Anonymous)

***

To watch "Spent,” click below or go to spentmovie.com and learn more about why 70MM+ financially underserved Americans will spend almost $40k on unnecessary fees in their lifetime. (And if you watch the movie, you can contribute to entrepreneur-designer Debbie of DEBIL's newly-launched Kickstarter right here. Go Debbie!)

*This post is sponsored by American Express, which also sponsored the film. The movie is not about American Express products or a promotion for the institution itself, and I am not personally affiliated with the company. I’m just a supporter of financial change, and I was genuinely moved by the film.

Moms & Dads Parentsplain It All

Fri, 16 May 2014 19:53:00 -0400

“Parent-splaining” is the latest craze to sweep ~~the nation~~ the internet, and if you’re reading this post right now, I’m guessing you’ve come across at least one example online. Broken down to its most basic elements, parent-splaining is defined as “parents explaining parenting to their childless friends.” Whether they’re outlining precisely why they can’t hang out with their friends anymore in excruciating detail (“Like sorry dudes MY KIDS ARE ME NOW”) or providing unsolicited lessons in what it’s like to have the most important job in the world, parent-splainers get an enormous amount of attention when their tips and rants go viral. For every enlightened mom or dad who rises to the occasion to “educate” the childless public on the sacrifices and drudgery of having kids, there are thousands of eager parents at the ready to share the parenting real talk with their expansive social networks.

Inexplicably, and yet also predictably, more than 300,000 people on Facebook have ‘Liked’ this week’s essential Huffington Post parent-splaining item, 'Once We Become Parents We Don’t Want to Hang Out With You Anymore (But Not for the Reasons You Think),’ which is in a similar vein as Jason Good’s 2011 post 'To all my friends without children.’, and just on the heels of the latest YouTube sensation, 'Friends Without Kids.’ But those are just a few generic parenting-splaining examples; there’s also the popular “What Stay-At-Home Moms Do All Day (It’s Way More Than You Think!)” angle, famously sermonized last year by Matt Walsh and more recently by Daddy Fishkins in faddish blog posts that get shared by parents all the time. Basically, if it reads like a fun-loving open letter about parenting that’s tinged with self-satisfaction, a large number of parents will go apeshit for it.

I wrote about this in detail over on Mommyish, where you can also find several examples of parents parent-splainin’ themselves ('cause non-parents just don’t understand). But before you read that rambling novel, below I’ve “curated” a delightful range of pointers, ponderings, and preoccupations parents have about parenthood that absolutely needed to be communicated via Facebook. These things are important!

1. Parents Can’t Do Lunch So Stop Asking

Haha, FREE? For LUNCH? The FUCK is that?! Lololol okay yeah, let’s get “lunch” during my “free time” away from my living, breathing CHILD who is my responsibility at all times, that sounds awesomesauce! I’ll get the chicken sandwich and tomato soup, and you can get whatever it is that stupid, childless bitches eat. What is that, like, lettuce wraps with a side of total ignorance? Yum! HELLO. I’m a MOM NOW.

2. God’s Gifts

Poor friends-of-Terri. They don’t get to hang out with her anymore. :((( They must be feeling such a roller coaster of emotions right now. Both happy for Terri because she has those three incredibly precious girls who are all sweet little angel-gifts from the Lord, but also kind of unhappy because it’s like ever since Terri gave birth, she’s morphed into a preachy Explainer who talks shit on Facebook and doles out passive-aggressive smiley faces like it’s her job. You know what, Terri? You’re the one igniting the drama, so by ALL means keep doing what YOU’RE doing, because it’s actually very amusing and your friends are highly entertained. :)

3. …enough said.

Desi’s not tryna blast anyone out or put her friends' asses on blast or DISOWN THEIR ASSES or anything like that. It is NOT HER INTENTION to hurt anyone’s feelings. She’s just doing the best she can to keep her husband to whom she is MARRIED WITH TWO KIDS in line, and she’s asking EVERYONE for a little courtesy and RESPECT. Desi and Kris are no longer in their young twenties. They are no longer in their mid twenties. They are in their LATE TWENTIES and they are PREOCCUPIED dealing with IMPORTANT responsibilities that MARRIED PEOPLE IN THEIR LATE TWENTIES deal with: Rent, bills, children, and Facebook come 1st! 'Nuff said. Don’t make Desi repeat herself because enough said is enough said. Laterz

4. Mommy Fun > Your Fun

Who else is picturing A. greeting each morning by looking in the mirror and reciting, “Being a mommy does not make me boring!” anywhere from 20 to 50 times? It’s the “We must expand our bust!” for a new generation of women who aren’t afraid to be loud and proud about who they are and what they want out of life. Yes, they ARE mommies, they ARE fierce, and their definition of fun IS way better than yours!! Being a mommy does NOT:

Make a person boring
Cause a woman to refer to her husband as “daddy” in the third person on the internet
Turn a previously cool girl into someone who says things like, “I’m fun. Deal with it. I’m a hardcore Mommy!” on Facebook

Nope! Rather, those things just sometimes happen. Sorry, friends!

5. Partial Lives

Hey bro, sorry if my superior opinion hurt your sensitive “man-feelings,” but kids are the best thing that can happen to a person, and the older a guy gets without being a dad, the sadder and creepier he is. That’s not a judgmental statement. It’s a fact of fucking life. You can grow into a pathetic, childless man, or you can join the rest of the male population and be a responsible, kickass dad who stares at man-babies like you with our kids on our shoulders, whispering into their ears that no one is more depressing than sad sacks of shit over age 30 who don’t have any offspring. Like, dude, you didn’t even accidentally knock up some chick in high school who collects your alimony checks? You don’t have a random 12-year-old out there who gets a birthday card every three years and thinks his dad is a secret agent in the CIA? Do you know what’s worse than being a bad dad? Being NO dad. Nice way to live out your days, man. Enjoy your partial life.

6. Mom’s Gold Star

***…and then the Heavens parted, and Raquel’s sensible poetry resonated throughout the Land…***

Thank you, Raquel, for saying what others don’t, even when you’re going up against a tunnel vision bitch like Rebecca who is probably way too far gone to fully grasp your comment. Hope against hope, odd against odds – especially in this primitive age when communication options run scarce – I choose to believe this utopian parenting lifestyle being described does exist. This is a version of parent-splaining I can get behind. Until, of course, mom and dad bloggers pick up on the practical parenting hook and start writing posts like “Top 10 Interests Parents Should Have Outside Of Parenting (They’re Not What You Think!)” and “To my friends without kids: You were right, I’m an asshole!” Then I’ll just go back to hating everything.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Related: Kids In The Community

To read more about the parent-splaining trend, including several bonus pieces of instructional wisdom, head over to Mommyish to read my column!

(submitted by Anonymous)

Not-So-Breaking News: Some Moms Aren't Good At April Fool's Day

Tue, 08 Apr 2014 20:05:27 -0400

Hayyyy, remember how I said I was working on an “investigative” piece of hard-hitting “journalism” for the blog? Well, I still am. Among other things. Last week kind of flew by? In the meantime, let’s talk briefly about April Fool’s Day – a day that proves some people are really, really bad at coming up with pranks. This year, I’m featuring two of those people. These are their stories. Dun dun.

In the past, I’ve used April Fool’s Day as an excuse to post disgusting pictures, as well as other weird things, but for the most part I’d say it’s a pretty “quiet” holiday around these parts. I tend to obsess over holiday posts, and April Fool’s Day content always kind of lets me down. Which is why it’s so apropos that this year’s content is especially, tragically lame.

First, I should say that in addition to the following submissions, I did actually spend a significant amount of time – WAY too much time, in fact – considering the nature of April Fool’s Day jokes in a column I wrote for Mommyish. The column centered around a poster that made the rounds on Facebook and basically indicts women who joke about being (fake) pregnant on April 1st, which, some might say, is the oldest joke in the book and therefore: 1. dated/boring, 2. traditional/harmless, or, if you’re a fan of this poster, 3. insensitive/hurtful/the opposite of “brilliantly hilarious.”

I couldn’t believe so many people responded to my query about this poster on the STFUP Facebook page, but the conversation there is worth checking out, especially if you have a large bottle of absinthe in hand.

Because of that goddamn poster, I spent this April Fool’s Day contemplating some serious shit, and for that reason alone, I can’t endorse the campaign. April 1st is the one day a year that people – even news organizations – are supposed to take it light ‘n easy, and this year, it got hijacked by some justifiably emotional women who turned the holiday into a rather damning occasion. At the end of the day (literally), my feelings on the subject were kinda…

Anyway, if you want to read that column, which is interesting in that “where we are as an internet society” way, check it out right here!

Now, onto this year’s winners for Weakest April Fool’s Day Jokes, which is sort of a Darwin Awards-esque honor that is being shared by two women named Rachel. I’m not proud of mocking the Rachels, partly because this post is a week late and partly because it’s a bit like picking on people who are smaller (i.e. nicer) than I am. Granted, I’m undoubtedly the smaller-minded person here, but in terms of joke-telling, these ladies are truly the gold standard of boring humor on April Fool’s Day. The takeaway is this: Don’t pull a “prank” on April 1st if the topic is so mundane and the outcome so irrelevant that no one in your social network gives a shit.

Let’s start with Rachel.

Rachel’s twin babies aren’t sleeping through the night yet – something she’s mentioned once or twice (or 50 times) on Facebook – so she ingeniously hatched this wacky status update prank on April Fool’s Day:

Ahhhhhckkkghhhfff. That sound you hear is my insides cringing. Rachel’s woe-is-mom version of an April Fool’s Day prank is worse than a corny dad joke about the weather. I’m kind of glad the submitter cut the submission after Rachel’s ridiculous “confession” (ohhh, how difficult it must’ve been to keep the truth a secret for three whole hours!!!), although I have a feeling Erica’s next comment was probably something classic like, “Haha, u actually were joking? Worst joke I’ve seen 2day.”

When your world has gotten so small that you’re “pranking” your Facebook friends about your children’s sleep intervals, it’s time to do something drastic to re-instill your sense of humor. Unless, of course, you didn’t have the greatest sense of humor to begin with. Some people don’t need to lose days of sleep for months on end to confuse a joke that’s genuinely funny with one that’s totally lame.

Meet Rachel:

On April Fool’s Day, Rachel posted this picture to let her friends know that she and her husband are having a baby boy. But little did her friends know, she was actually playing a super sneaky trick that would turn the average April Fool’s Day pregnancy joke flat on its predictable ass!!!!

On April 2nd, Rachel posted this:

Derr… what? In the words of the submitter: "So I saw this on April Fool's Day and wasn’t sure if I should take it too seriously, but she re-updated today, and most of the first announcement was legit, except they are having a girl instead of a boy. See that’s the funny part, instead of pink sunglasses, they had a mustache on the hunk of bread meant to symbolize their future child! Isn’t that silly?“ Yeahhhhhhh.

Other notably "wild” things Rachel 2 has done:

– Eaten peanut butter out of the jar at 3am

– Rapped the words to “Tootsie Roll” at a karaoke bar while completely sober

– Held hands with a ghost (okay, okay, it was on Halloween!)

– Went up the down escalator in the mall…twice

She’s fucking crazy, y'all.

Ugh. Seriously, I had no idea April Fool’s Day could let me down so much. Next year, maybe we’ll all just go back to rickrolling each other. Ahh…the halcyon days of 2007.

For more thoughts on April Fool’s Day, check out my column on Mommyish!

(submitted by Anonymous)

A Sanctimommy Review Of "STFU, Parents" + Book Contest Winners!

Fri, 28 Mar 2014 17:52:00 -0400

There are many nice reviews of the “STFU, Parents” book on Amazon, but this sanctimommy review might be my favorite. It almost sounds like something I’d write myself after a few glasses of wine for my own amusement. Much like reading the ‘Kids In the Community’ submissions (which came from a reliable source), it’s kind of hard to believe that people like this really do exist. But we know they do, and now I guess we also know they can’t be coaxed out of their mental parent parking spaces and into the real world where the rest of us live and mock of pretentious parents.

That said, what could be better than getting mommyjacked on my very own Amazon page? Whenever I’m feeling blue, I can always tell myself that right now I’m just in my spoiled, ranting teenager stage, and one day my eyes – which I already thought I knew how to open – will be VERY OPENED if I ever become a mother. This review is brilliant, and what I especially like is that it was sent in by a reader who knew how much I’d appreciate it. It even comes close to the time my former restaurant manager told me that I was the rudest person she’d ever met in her entire life (in an Australian accent!). That was ten years ago, and it appears not much has changed.

So! Who’s ready to find out the book contest winners?! Aside from getting to read the rantings of a spoiled teenager, you’ll also receive some temporary tattoos, and I’ll be sure to sign each copy so you can make big $$$ one day when you sell it (if you haven’t previously thrown it in an incinerator or forsaken it in a ritual book sacrifice). Because there were so many comments on a somewhat ambiguously-worded post about the book giveaway on Facebook, I’m giving away (5) copies to you guys on the blog, and (3) copies to commenters on the Facebook page.

The randomly chosen blog winners (by commenter handle) are:

Karen Milton, KatieBoBatie, Nancy, neighbor57, and squib*! I’ve emailed you guys with the addresses linked to your commenter profiles. If you don’t check those email accounts, email me!

And the randomly chosen Facebook winners, whom I’ve “replied” to, are:

Debby House, Holly Smith Mills, and Joe Schussler, who thoughtfully remarked, “This blog has changed my life. I now know that I am neither the worst nor the most insane parent out there. Feeling mediocre and loving it."

To mediocrity!

Thanks again to everyone who reads this ridiculous website, and I’ll be back on Monday with a new and exciting "investigative report.” It’s no Moose and Zee, but it’s pretty damn close.

Related: My Childless Blog Manifesto

*Update: When Squib replied to my email with her mailing address, she added, “Also, I have kids, so please make sure you instruct the post office that the driver should turn off the engine and coast down my street before depositing the book carefully wrapped in a pillow so as not to disturb my angels. : )” Touché.

Blog Birthday: STFU, Parents Turns 5 + Baby Cake, Best Posts, & More!

Fri, 21 Mar 2014 17:59:00 -0400

Balloons, a party hat, sunglasses, and a half-born baby?? Y'ALL KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!! This witty bitty baby blog will be heading off to KINDERGARTEN soon. According to most preschools in 2014, that means the blog is also about to “graduate” for the first time! It’s almost too much for this fierce mama bear to handle. Then again, it could be the baby that’s covered in blood and being lovingly yanked from his surgically sliced mother that’s causing me to have heart palpitations. It is a pretty gory scene. And yet, it’s worth noting that despite the dramatics of birth, this baby still looks super chill. He’s basically like, “Okay guys, I was catching a little shut-eye, but I guess if you must pull me from the depths of my mother’s womb, I could go for some nachos and chili fries after getting weighed and stuff."

Holly comes in with the only practical response to a "surprise” close-up of a friend’s C-section on Facebook. “wow that certainly is something” might actually be THE most subdued way of saying, “What the fuck were you thinking?!?” that I’ve ever heard. Maybe Holly’s just the type of person who knows exactly what to say in every situation, sensibly trading outright insults for matter-of-fact observations. Instead of “ew,” Holly says “ah.”

I sure wonder what she had to say when she got to this picture:

WOW THAT CERTAINLY IS SOMETHING UGHHGHSGDGAKASFDLSKSGFUGHH

I wish I could say I’m surprised that Natalie included this picture in her C-section Shop Of Horrors photo album, but we all know a close-up of a C-section and a close-up of a placenta go together like Vadgesty Foxi Maiden and Vagena Tamphen Pohtaytar. How could she NOT take a picture of her MAHOOSIVE placenta and post it on Facebook? It’s not only a source of life, but of PRIDE!

You gotta love any nation whose go-to expression is “bloody hell,” especially when it’s uttered in response to a picture of an actual sac of blood. Also, my conditioning to the word “whopper” automatically conjures up an image of a thick ‘n meaty placenta stuffed between two pieces of bread, which then takes me way back to April 2009, when I learned that such things even exist. Oh, the places we’ve been!

And speaking of delectable delights, it occurred to me recently that I never posted any pictures from the “STFU, Parents” book party, which took place nearly a year ago. How could I have deprived you guys (the ones who weren’t there, I mean), of this precious bundle of joy*, prepared with love by the awesome Lauri from Cake Alchemy?

Looks tasty, right? When I first saw this cake, which was larger than life-sized, I nearly cried with joy. It sat perched on display for the first hour of the party, and everyone in the audience had these looks on their faces like they were considering how one might cut up and serve such a tantalizing-yet-funereal-looking dessert. I really felt like this was closest I’ll ever get to experiencing the creepiness of the armadillo cake in “Steel Magnolias.” It might’ve even been better, because this one came with a red velvet inside AND we didn’t start cutting from the sides or the butt. We cut from the head, of course.

Between this and Chris Mohney’s detailed and uplifting tale about getting a vasectomy, it was truly a night to remember. I really appreciate everyone who came out (there are more photos on the Facebook page), and in honor of the fifth anniversary of the blog, I’m giving away 5 copies of the book to you wonderful blog readers. I’ll pick five comments at random and then walk my lazy ass to the post office because that’s how grateful I am to everyone who still reads the blog after five traumatizing years.

You don’t have to do anything special to win, but if you want, I’d love to hear what some of your favorite (“favorite”) posts have been over the years. Also, don’t forget to Like the Facebook page and follow STFUParents on Twitter and Instagram, because I post all kinds of stuff there, too, and there’s a lot of discussion and debate. After half a decade of posts, it almost seems like there are even MORE reasons for this blog to exist, and I appreciate all the submissions that continue to flow into my inbox like a never-ending stream of vomit and diarrhea. What can I say? This is emotional. Let’s bring it in for a hug, you guys.

Last but not least, I never posted an End of Year recap for 2013, which was lighter on posts than other years, so here’s a list of the Top 15 posts from last year for anyone who wants to (re)visit the cream of the crop.

15. Parents Behaving Badly: How (Not) To Act In Public

14. Tease & Reveal: Lunch Edition

13. Current Events: How NOT To Talk About The Boston Bombings

12. Birth Junkies & Sanctimamas Have Some Things To Say

11. Deathjacking Is Killing Me

10. Acknowledge My Baby, Part II

9. Mom’s Gold Star Round-Up: Back-To-School Edition

8. Sanctimommy Round-Up

7. Sunday Special: London Restaurant Doesn’t “Accommodate” Diner’s Son

6. Questionable Parenting: Nakedness Edition

5. STFUP Fables: The Apple That Turned Into a Tattoo

4. Baby Name Drama For Your Mama

3. Yoonique Baby Names: 2013 Edition

2. Mommyjacking “The Childfree Life”

1. Newborn Visitation Rules and The Descent Into Sancti-Madness

And here are a few columns from Mommyish that you may have missed, because I never linked to them here:

Baby Fundraising On Facebook

Parents Who Lecture Their Childless Friends

Moms Who Leak Too Much Information About Their Incontinence

How Parents Talk About Vaccines On Facebook

Thanks for helping me celebrate the blog’s birthday! I’ll announce the book winners next Friday, March 28. If you don’t really *want* a copy of the book (that you could easily give to a friend, donate to a library, or burn in a rusty garbage can), just stipulate that in your comment. And if you’ve already read (and hopefully enjoyed) the book, don’t forget to add a review on Amazon! It brings meaning to my poop- and placenta-filled life.

Let’s hear it for birthdays!

Related: STFUP Turns 3 and STFUP Turns 4

Also related: End of Year Listicles from 2009, 2010, 2011, and 2012

Buy the “STFU, Parents” book!

*photos by Lauren Thompson, party props to Forced Meme Productions, Tumblr, Housing Works NYC, and Cake Alchemy

(submitted by Anonymous)

Yoonique Baby Names: 2014 Edition

Mon, 10 Mar 2014 10:24:09 -0400

Last week on Mommyish, I resumed my annual tradition of presenting the latest baby naming trends ~~without comment~~. I realize that pointing and laughing at parents’ terrible baby name choices is not the most sophisticated form of humor, but like I said last year, since when was this blog sophisticated?? I post pictures of human waste stuck to children’s heads and shuffled beneath their bare feet. I embrace submissions like Brenda and I PREG as though they were my own crazy aunt and delusional cousin. And I hate on mommyjackers just because I can. So what’s stopping me from mocking a few stupid names?!

And yet, every year I wrestle with this post, because I don’t want anyone to think I’m advocating for parents to choose conventional names like John or Sarah. I’m not. I’m simply pointing out that kids today are being given some of the most unnecessarily yoonique, unpronounceable, and embarrassingly awful names that have ever existed. It is part of my continued exploration of the dumbfounding world of modern parenting, and I don’t think reflecting on a crowded chalkboard of ill-conceived baby names qualifies as bullying. It’s more like “satire that writes itself because it’s real life.”

This year’s names selection was particularly tough to narrow down, causing me to ponder the shelf life of all those novelty name keychains available at gas stations and rest stops. Soon, children will be asking their parents why there’s no Bryxxtyn keychain, and their parents will complain to management, and then they’ll file a lawsuit and somehow win $2 million in a settlement for their pain and suffering. And I for one am looking forward to that day! Out with the old, in with the nü.

All that said, here are this year’s best contenders for worst baby names (so far):

1. It Comes From The Future

“Trexton Draze” sounds like the male protagonist in a cheesy romance novel. It’s like the sci-fi-WASP name equivalent of Christian Grey. Not what I’d call “a great choice.” I guess you could shorten the first name to “Trex”? Like Chex meets Trix? Maybe Jennifer and Mike are just really into cereal.

Did I mention that Baby Trex is joining brothers Zayden and Vennex? Of course he is.

2. Semiprecious

First, I want to come to pop star turned “Queen of Christian Pop” Amy Grant’s defense (again), because we’re talking about a person who sang a killer duet with Peter Cetera in 1987. Spelling her name with a conventional “y” is exactly as it should be, and Sasha should show A.G. a little respect.

Next, a fun fact: Did you know the word amethyst "comes from the Ancient Greek ἀ a- (“not”) and μέθυστος methustos (“intoxicated”), a reference to the belief that the stone protected its owner from drunkenness"? Me neither. But something about this meaning strikes me as funny. Maybe because Sasha seems so intent on ensuring that her daughter’s name is “different,” she’s already correcting people on how to spell her nickname (as if it makes any real difference; the two names are identically pronounced). I would think that only a drunk person would bother to interject and slur, “Amie not like Amy as in Amy Grant,” but since she’s pregnant, we can assume this is merely Sasha’s personality.

3. Angel > Angle > Legna

After the unprecedented rise of the name Nevaeh (‘heaven’ spelled backwards), some very wise parents have come to the realization that new words must be spelled backwards in order for their child’s name to be truly yoonique. Enter: Legna! Pronounced “Lay-nuh,” this name (if you can call it that, which I suppose you can since it’s been written on birth certificates) is really no better than Nevaeh. It’s also probably not much worse, but it does not instill a feeling of optimism. After a quick Google search, I found a Yahoo! questions thread that discusses this relatively new non-name name:

“…and would like to keep the theme going.” <– Bad move. Based on the responses to this person’s question, I’m not alone in thinking that naming Nevaeh’s baby sister Legna is a soutrsasid idea of htommam proportions.

Aww. It’s nice when the Voter’s Choice answer is polite, isn’t it? My response would’ve been more like this:

4. Alternate Spellings

I know it’s unlikely, but it IS entirely possible that Leslie gifted Megan this custom bib as a nod to feeling nauseous after seeing how Jaxsin’s name is spelled. I’m not saying that’s what happened, but it could be similar to people deliberately gifting noisy toys to annoying parents. Soon, this pristine bib will covered in food and barf, and that seems rather appropriate. I’m just undecided on one thing – would adding an apostrophe to the end of Jaxsin’ (essentially making it a verb like chillaxin’) further ruin the name or vastly improve it? Call me crazy, but I’m thinking that faux gerunds might be the next big trend in baby names. Consider the possibilities: Jaysin’, Aidin’, Raidin’. Who wouldn’t want to be named Braedin’??

5. Unique SUGGESTIONS

This is one of those submissions that seemed so oddly familiar, I had to check and make sure I hadn’t posted it before. “Jammon Lane,” “Wrydon Walthall,” “Henson Jerel Danger”? Haven’t these names always existed? Didn’t Wrydon invent a piece of farming equipment back in the late 19th century or something? I can’t imagine why Shannon would have a difficult time coming up with a new baby name when she seems to have nailed it three times in the past. That said, I appreciate Maggie’s confidence in her suggestion. Fabian needs no punctuation or explanation. Excellent SUGGESTION.

6. Sound It Out

It took me a minute to crack this code, partly because I can’t imagine naming my kid “Zoe” and opting to spell it “Xoeigh,” and partly because I can only commit .0003 seconds to reading kids’ names these days. Plus, isn’t the appeal of “Zoe” that it makes use of the ever-elusive “z”? What kind of monsters would torture their kid with this kind of impractical spelling? Xoeigh’s parents, apparently. She’ll probably turn saying “Xoeigh like Zoe” into a drinking game by the time she’s in junior high just to get through the day.

7. Ledjendary

A name like “Ledjend” is pretty much the opposite of a triumph. In fact, it’s a hardship. It’s like naming a kid Heroe, or Pulitzar, or Mithologie. When people intentionally misspell real words, are they aware that those words lose all meaning? Not that li'l Ledjend isn’t already a legend in my book – he is – but it’s more for having one of the dumbest names I’ve ever seen/heard than for being an awesome baby.

8. 'Mother Of Dragons Has Very First Blowout’

The line between fantasy and reality gets blurrier and blurrier. It’s one thing to be a fan of Game of Thrones and/or "A Song of Ice and Fire,“ but really, Alicia couldn’t have just made Daenerys the middle name in homage? I find that hard to believe. Unless of course her middle name is Targaryen. Then it would all make perfect sense. Besides, who would refuse being named after the Mother of Dragons?! It’s an honor.

9. A Special Message From Daxtyn

Daxtyn, Zedyk, and Quinlyn are the siblings whose names will inspire countless laughs in teachers’ lounges for years and years to come. Who knows where the butchering of the English language can go from here? Soon, our names will just be emoji symbols, like Prince back when he got in that fight with Warner Bros. in 1993. Until then, parents will continue to move the Name Revolution forward by dumping out bags of Scrabble tiles and rearranging them while blindfolded to determine their children’s names. Think about it: Should parents really be choosing their children’s names for them, or should those names have the freedom to choose themselves???

Related: More Crazy Baby Names

For even more ridiculously yoonique and totally amazeballs baby names, check out my column on Mommyish!

(submitted by Anonymous)

Valentine’s Day 2014 Ladies and gents, it’s that special time of year again. Love is...

Sun, 16 Feb 2014 16:43:59 -0500

Valentine’s Day 2014

Ladies and gents, it’s that special time of year again. Love is in the air, and I’ve never caught a whiff of something so sweet. So…oddly fragrant. Er, wait a second – is that…bacon?

OHHHH RIIIGHHHHTTTT IT’S THE UMBILICAL CORD, OF COURSE IT IS. Casey wins the award for best suggested use of a flattened, glistening, and what appears to be lightly torched heart-shaped umbilical cord with her idea for the best “surprise bookmark” EVAR. Who wouldn’t want that ~~candy-coated~~ blood-soaked, jerky-smooth piece of birth memorabilia to come sliding out from between the pages of what’s sure to be a frighteningly comprehensive baby book? Just imagine yourself surrounded by placenta prints in Rachel’s living room, haphazardly flipping through her baby tome, and then discovering this meaty curio after it swiftly falls into your lap.

What’s super fun about ‘birth heart art’ (a burgeoning underground mom-art scene) is that it has so many artistic interpretations. To help celebrate Valentine’s Day, I’ve put together a display of these fine works. A small gallery show, if you will. Unfortunately, none of these pieces are currently for sale. They’re just for admiring.

Heart Cords

Ahh, curly cord keepsake, you temptress! New mothers are increasingly embracing that instinctual, maternal urge to twist their baby's umbilical cord into a heart shape, and really, who can blame them? These one-of-a-kind keepsakes make excellent keychains, Christmas ornaments, and – in my novice opinion – bases for DIY dreamcatchers (just add string + feathers!!). Bonus: They fall on the “Beginner” scale on the Pinterest Moms Difficulty Spectrum. They’re like lanyards for the parent set!

Placenta Heart Cord

Mmmm, break me off a piece of that. I’m absolutely shocked that this example of primitive art (arranged in the Classic style) has only received 1 Like. The only explanation that makes sense is that everyone else is just J-E-A-L-O-U-S. Haters to the left! Meat lovers and temporary organ enthusiasts to the kitchen.

Heart-Shaped Placenta

I don’t know who’s responsible for this birth masterpiece (birthsterpiece?) – God? Cupid? Some sort of cosmic force? – but a heart-shaped placenta is a bloody beautiful thing. (Remember this hunk of burning love from last year?) Also, doesn’t it kind of look like someone took a meat-tenderizer to this bad boy? All it needs now is a thin egg coating, a quick dip in some breadcrumbs, and a flash fry!

You said it, Grace. Way 2 awesome not 2 share.

Placenta Heart Cord In a Colander

And now for the pièce de résistance of today’s birth heart art exhibit. It’s a mixed media presentation that expresses the literal rawness of fresh human expulsion in an industrial setting as contrasted by the reciprocal beauty of Mother Nature. And as is everything in nature, this placenta will be harvested, recycled, and consumed, much like eating your own composted waste. The carbon footprint will be deliciously insignificant. Simone and her doula are in for one heck of a night.

I’m with you, Patricia. And I do love you for saying that. Danielle and Paige: Your enthusiasm is an echo chamber nightmare, but technically you two match the niche demographic that might actually attend and enjoy a real life birth heart art show. So… I guess this Valentine’s Day post is for you? Happy Day, ladies. Heck yes.

(submitted by Anonymous)

The Ongoing Saga Of Parent Parking

Thu, 13 Feb 2014 15:59:54 -0500

Last week on Mommyish, I referenced a PostSecret entry that said: “I always park in spots reserved for expectant moms but I’ve never been pregnant… I just stick out my stomach & waddle into the store.” This shameful, naughty disclosure got me thinking about the many mythologies that surround parent parking, despite it being a pretty new phenomenon. For one thing, parents who get enraged by the Others who take up “their” parking spaces act like these spaces have always existed – like they’ve been sanctioned off in every parking lot throughout history. Either that, or hostile parents are like, “Hey, my ancestors didn’t fight for my right to occupy this parking space just so some asshole who's shopping alone could come through and take it!” Parking equality be damned; it’s 2014, and it’s time we showed all the parents and expectant mothers out there the parking lot respect they so richly deserve.

Granted, I’m not one of those people who thinks that parent parking (which boasts a variety of official titles including ‘Parent and Child,’ 'Expectant Mother,’ 'Family Parking,’ and 'Entitled Minivans’) is that big of a deal. I don’t care either way. If I saw a space, I wouldn’t race to it, nor would I outright dismiss it. I suppose that’s because even though parents may be the Chosen People for whom the spaces are intended, the only designated parking spaces that are legally recognized are the disabled spaces. (And sanctimommies would really appreciate a vote on that parking lot ratio.) Sure, it’s nice when drivers leave the parent spaces available, but is it a crime not to? No. In fact, some people even park in them on principle, simply because they can.

It is this unmerciful loophole that absolutely infuriates parent parking crusaders and causes them to lash out both in real life and online with nary a shred of dignity to be found. Let’s check out several new examples:

1. Stoopid Bitches

Daaaaamn, Trish, way to reduce Steve to an overly aggressive-yet-exceedingly sensitive wad of twisted up underwear. He may be chock full of character flaws, but there’s no real reason for him to “need” to park in those suggested spaces, as Steven (a person with a similar name but an actual disability) so helpfully pointed out.

And yet, Steve still felt every bit as entitled to scold, shame, and “cuss out” a random stranger whom he’d apparently expected to do him a favor. This is the failed logic that angry parent parking crusaders use to justify screaming at people in parking lots in front of their kids. “You didn’t do me a favor by parking elsewhere, so now you must SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES, you ignorant bitch! FEEL THE WRATH OF MY WORDS AND THE HEATED GLANCES OF MY INNOCENT CHILDREN, you stupid childless idiot!”

2. Disabled Spaces > Parent and Child Spaces :(

Jen’s problem isn’t that Sainsbury’s doesn’t have enough parent and child parking spaces. It’s that she considers herself disabled just because she has a baby. Despite being an able-bodied mother, she genuinely doesn’t believe she should be fined for illegally parking in a disabled space, and now she’s taken to social media to get some answers!

But the truth is, the number of parent parking spaces is irrelevant. Big box retailers and grocery stores could dedicate 75% of their parking lots to those spaces, and they would still be occupied in the same way they are now – on a first come, first serve basis. Does Jen really think she was the only parent shopping at Sainbury’s that day who didn’t get a parent and child parking space? And why does her comment have 20 Likes compared to Sainsbury’s 10? This is horseshit.

3. Parking Police Mamas

Here are the rules for talking about selfish people who park in parent parking spaces:

1. Make sure to call out any big-haired, over-accessorized women on their appearance, because parking rudely opens a person up to full-body criticism. If a woman looks old, use that.

2. Carefully note that old, big-haired bitches do not walk across parking lots. They strut.

3. Do not, under any circumstances, witness a person committing parking fraud and stay silent. You must tell your story, either to a store manager (since you can describe firsthand the person’s hair and accessories that were stolen from 1991), or to friends and family on Facebook. In order to make a real difference, we must rise up and use our voices and our Facebook apps. Be the change you hope to see in that hellscape battlefield commonly known as the Lawrence Park parking lot. Be the sanctimommy version of Towanda that everyone knows and ~~hates~~ loves. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Oh, and speaking of Panera, check out the random email I got this morning:

Good Morning,

My friend was traveling for work and had not gotten a chance to eat all day. When she finally ordered food and sat down at a Panera Bread, the plaque in the attached picture was in her booth.

Nothing like eating lunch and thinking about the woman whose water broke probably right where you are sitting!

I thought about blocking Gabrielle’s last name, but I mean…this is a plaque in a booth in a New Jersey Panera. It’s meant to be seen and appreciated. It also picks up where the story about the big-haired, over-accessorized woman drops off. Just imagine how nice it would’ve been for Gabrielle’s mom to park in a designated parent parking space on August 12, 2002, Before Parent Parking (B.P.P.). The woman’s water broke in this very booth. Let this be a lesson to us all when we eat at Panera Bread franchises. You just never know.

4. Arrogant Aresholes

At some point, every parent experiences that fateful rite of passage in which a baby’s dirty diaper goes from 'smelly garbage’ to 'handy vehicular weapon.’ Poop is all the rage in parent parking theatrics, so drivers, beware. The next time you innocently, or even perhaps greedily, saddle up to a pram parking space sans baby or stroller, you can expect to have human shit flung in your direction and/or smeared across your car. Aunt Sammy and her mommy crew will not be bullied or oppressed by arrogant arseholes any longer. You want to take up a space that belongs to mommies and strut across the parking lot? Fine. Just don’t be surprised when someone brings a soggy bag of baby shit to the shit show.

5. Generation Smackdown

Finallyyy, Sue and Jacqui, who are like a sanctimommy crime-fighting duo, say what fleets of drivers are really thinking. Parent parking, while helpful and courteous, is not all that important. In fact, it’s beyond unimportant – it’s precious and, dare I say, slightly offensive to prior generations of parents who didn’t always have the luxury of walking 3 feet to the entrance of a store after bravely excavating their children from the depths of their ~~houses on wheels~~ SUVs and minivans and prying stacks of electronics from their children’s cold, sticky hands. And it’s not just Sue, who’s reppin’ the older generation of moms, who feels this way. Jacqui, too, has gone on the record as a traitor to her generation, dispelling the myth once and for all that young parents should be treated as though they’re handicapped.

Personally, I’d much rather hang out with Sue and Jacqui in the back of a parking lot with a pair of megaphones, mocking the parents who scream at strangers for “parking wrong,” than police people and act like a jerk over something so trivial. Remember the time I posted about the drama surrounding cart depot etiquette? Life is too short, you guys. How about we just agree not to run each other over? (Or do stuff like this.)

For even more parent parking histrionics and rage-filled sanctimony, head over to Mommyish to read my column!

Related: Shopping Exceptions and Angry Parents

UNrelated, in honor of the XXII Olympic Winter Games: Olympics Marathon Round-Up, Part I and Part II, + Parents Go For The Gold

(submitted by Anonymous)

New Year's Eve MEGA Round-Up!

Tue, 28 Jan 2014 18:53:01 -0500

Continuing with my new tradition of posting about holidays anywhere from 1-4 weeks after they occur, let’s finally talk about the New Year in what will surely go down as one of the longest, most delayed, and most pointless posts of all time!

Celebrating on New Year’s Eve and posting on social media go together like Vagena Tamphen Pohtaytar and Vadgesty Foxi Maiden. You almost can’t have one without the other. But as we've seen on the blog over the years, New Year’s Eve is one of those holidays that’s often met with wide-ranging emotions depending on whether a person has small children or not. When a person has no babies or toddlers, updates generally read as “people celebrating the New Year.” But if a person does have a baby or toddler (or both), status updates can fall into a completely different set of brackets. Let’s check out what parents were posting about on New Year’s Eve 2013:

1. Fucking. Fireworks.

The number of parents who post on the internet and “address” their neighbors who are shooting off fireworks increases every year. I’m not discounting that some of these neighbors might actually be Facebook friends, but even then, only one party appears to be online while the other is apparently busy shooting off fireworks. So really, what’s the point of posting about it?

I’m not saying Facebook isn’t the place to commiserate, but on New Year’s Eve, I’m not too quick to dole out sympathy. Yes, some people are total imbeciles and shouldn’t be able to get their hands on explosives – we know this – but if you woke up on December 31st assuming that you and your baby would peacefully hit the hay around 9:15pm, you should probably recalibrate your expectations.

Part of the reason fireworks enrage some parents is because they want to be able to go outside and yell, “GET OFF MY LAWN!”, except the nimrods who are setting off the fireworks are technically on their own property. You’d think that, much like local sex offenders, these jerks would be legally forced to register themselves as “Fireworks Steve” or “Nimrod Bob With The Pyrotechnics” so that neighbors would know precisely who to blame on New Year’s Eve, but nope. Somehow they’re not. It’s almost like these explosives-loving monsters are trying to taunt parents and their children for no reason other than to celebrate a worldwide holiday.

Chin up, Mary. Lots of people have spent at least one New Year’s Eve puking, screaming, and gassy. Your family’s not alone!

Ah yes, the “check out my latest problem, this annoying thing is totally annoying me, and oh yeah HAPPY FREAKIN’ NEW YEAR!” status update. Usually this type of Facebook complaint is reserved for after midnight, but Kim opted to kick things off early this NYE. Why squander those final hours of the year when there’s still whining to be had?!

I don’t typically shoot off fireworks on New Year’s Eve myself, but I do feel that someone should speak for the “stupid ass’s” in this scenario. Rebecca, here is a lesson on how to pluralize words correctly. YOUR WELCOME. #burn

It is now late January 2014. Who’s going to make me a t-shirt that says “I have a sleep baby people!” in big block letters??!? Someone, I hope. If that someone is you, please email me for my physical address so I can start wearing the shirt around Brooklyn ASAP. Preesh.

I don’t know what you were thinking either, Amy, because it sounds like a large stick (possibly a Roman Candle) has been lodged up your ass for the past decade. Yeah yeah, New Year’s Day with a baby isn’t always fun, but hey, you wouldn’t have that baby without indulging in a few cheap thrills of your own, right? Sure, Roman Candles are annoying sometimes, but bullhorns are annoying all the time. If you can’t resolve to be nicer this year, you can at least resolve not to be unbearable.

2. New Year-jacking

“Hey, you overzealous travel braggart, guess what you know nothing about? ADVENTURES. Guess what parents know everything about? EVERYTHING. Congratulations, Geoff, you piddled around Europe. How awesome-sauce. But what did you really learn from your travels? That you’re "globally selfish”? That you “appreciate other cultures”? LOL. Have some babies and then we’ll talk about culture! Enjoy your “adventures” until you finally figure it all out stateside.“

I "wonder” if Sarah has ever read a friend’s parenting update on social media and not hijacked it with a comment about her own kid’s behaviors and achievements? Why allow a fellow mother go on feeling optimistic about her baby sleeping through the night when she could preemptively anticipate future growth spurts and agonize over future sleepless nights? Everyone knows the possibility of having mom friends who don’t consistently burst their friends’ bubbles is just a myth!

Oh, Helena. You’ve got the mind of a nagging grandmother in the body of a young Gen Xer. You must be “The Mom” in your group of friends – the one who always carries extra hand sanitizer in her purse and can’t stop talking about her friends’ viable eggs. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that they enjoy the subtle tips.

3. Poop and Puke Celebrations

Carey’s grammar aside, I can understand the impulse to start the new year by pooping in an actual toilet, so kudos to little Landon. HOWEVER, as much as Landon and his parents are thrilled that he deposited his turds in a big boy potty, Regan’s friends probably weren’t scrolling through their newsfeeds on NYE hoping to catch any breaking news about his pooping habits.

Celebrating poop in the potty? Okay. But on New Year’s Eve, most people are celebrating the marking of a new year, sometimes by consuming too much alcohol. And in that sense, we’re ALL celebrating keeping our underwear dry on NYE, you know? Not saying it isn’t an impressive feat for a toddler, just that if she crapped her pants on New Year’s, I wouldn’t really hold it against her. Either way, thanks for the informative rundown, Amanda.

Haha, that Ryker. He’s SUCH a Ryker, literally raining down on 2014 before 2014 even had a chance to start. You know what they say: How you spend New Year’s Eve will dictate how the rest of the year will play out. By that logic, baby Ryker will continue peeing all over his parents, and they will continue posting about it on Facebook. Seems about right.

Cool, Michelle, thanks for posting a screenshot of your “puke texture” exchange on Facebook so everyone could accurately picture the consistency. Whenever a friend tells me she got sick on New Year’s Eve, I’m always yearning for more specifics. Was the barf watery or chunky? Did it happen in a toilet, a sink, or in the back of a cab? Details, please!!!

tl;dr: Joy finds actual joy in mopping up her kid’s vomit; her friend Judy tells a quaint tale about the time her son threw up “directly” in her face, so like…; then Joy confirms that puke often comes out of suspicious-looking, wide open children’s mouths. The End.

4. How Sanctimommies Celebrate NYE

If Heather planned to put her phone on airplane mode, why did she write that initial status update? To express the extent of her New Year’s cheer? To say to the world, “New Year, Old Me!”? Or simply to scare her friends into saying “Happy New Year in advance!”? Maybe it’s a little of all of the above. But hey, at least she’s still got a sense of humor about these things. :)

Ugh, is anything worse than a childless bimbo who doesn’t want to hang out with babies and toddlers on New Year’s Eve? Talk about small-minded. If there’s one “type” of person on this planet that’s living an empty and meaningless life, it’s The Childless Woman. Those single bar-hoppers spend all of their time partying and clubbing in their stupid fucking size S sequin halter tops with their freshly-manicured nails, and worst of all, they don’t even know what unconditional love means. Pathetic.

Luckily, awesome moms can count on their totally awesome friends for support after ~~eavesdropping on~~ encountering a pair of dumb bitches:

It’s a good thing these moms know what life is all about and don’t have to stoop to the level of two bitchy bimbos without kids. Maybe one day those girls will finally “get it”!

5. Fetus Parties

Last but never least, a couple of fetuses spoke from the womb and embraced 2014 via festive Facebook messages. Just look at li'l Mizeph Xander waving to us from inside his mom! That wacky lump of cells sure knows how to party. But can he compete with other fetuses that are dancing the night away? Mizeph doesn’t even have a party hat, much less a bunch of bling:

Sarah’s little party animal wears every single chain even when he’s in the house, and he stays up past his bedtime to celebrate the New Year. Out of everyone featured in this insanely long ~~and boring~~ post, I think I’d want to hang out with this fetus the most.

Happy ~~Late January~~ New Year, everyone! To read my Top 6 Overshare Tips For Parents in 2014, click over to my Mommyish column right here!

Related: New Year’s Eve Round-Up 2013

(submitted by Anonymous)

Christmas '13: Xmas Gifts Edition

Sat, 04 Jan 2014 21:24:41 -0500

For the final installment of ~~this~~ last year’s holiday posts, I’m sticking with the timeless tradition of examining the real meaning of Christmas: presents. Over the years, Christmas has gone from a holiday about togetherness and goodwill to a pricey gift bonanza comprised of miniature ponies and the latest tech accessories. Or worse – a gift bonanza primarily consisting of plastic gifts that were made by tiny children (for tiny children!) and cost under $10 apiece. Some parents (and grandparents) are determined to buy so much cheap shit for their kids/grandkids, they’ve essentially filled their homes with massive piles of ~~garbage~~ toys. Many suburban houses are just privately owned landfills festooned with mountains of disposable, brightly colored junk.

Forget about the fact that kids usually get bored of their toys within 72 hours of playing with them (particularly when they have 300 other toys to play with). The types of parents who freak out about not purchasing a popular item by December 24th or who relish in showering their kids with several sleighs’ worth of gifts are the same types who frequently document their lives on Facebook and Instagram. Every Christmas is another opportunity to prove how “blessed” or devoted to their children they are (i.e. “Did you see how much awesome crap my kids got? Even more than last year!”). The thing I really don’t understand is the ‘Wall of Toys’ photos some parents post, either to humbly say 'thank you’ (to gift-giving friends, relatives, and the big man upstairs for making this Christmas a super phat one), OR to say 'HAHA BITCHES!! You WISH your kids got this much shit for Christmas!’, which, one could argue, is more often than not the case. It’s weird, and sometimes you can’t find their children in the pictures. Baby Raiden may be a toddler now, but that only means his parents probably buy bigger (and more) stuff! That’s just how some people roll.

Let’s check out some examples:

1. Toy Stress

Sorry, Lauren. That feeling you’re experiencing is not death, it’s a suffocating form of consumerism that causes parents to believe their kids won’t love them if they don’t buy them expensive gaming consoles for Christmas. Unfortunately, the only way to shake this feeling is by volunteering at a soup kitchen, homeless shelter, or food bank, preferably with the kid(s) in tow. That sounds VERY un-Christmas-y and extremely boring, but it’s true. Selflessness is the cure for PS4-induced panic attacks, because that is how this cruel and fucked-up world works. It’s practically torture. It’s worse than Craigslist, MAYBE even worse than paying hundreds of dollars for expensive headphones and getting tuna cans instead. But the trade-off is that you’ll probably avoid getting a knife pulled on you when your kid doesn’t get what he wants for Christmas several years down the road, so in that sense it’s kinda worth it.

2. Hilarious Toddler Christmas

You know what they say: Toddlers are nature’s divas! Lolololol J.’s daughter is such an adorable little queen. “Get the hell out of here.” “Aww, it’s almost a baby toy ;(” Lmao, SO funny and cute. When little kids start sassing everyone at such a young age, all you can do is laugh! Haha. Merry Christmas everyone.

3. Toy-Coma Humblebraggery

Pshhhhh, Holly, no one needs any of your preachy bullshit. Holli-with-an-'i’ is just trying to get her house cleaned top to bottom, and she was merely pointing out the 100 or so presents her kids received in order to substantiate requiring one maid or two child slaves ASAP. Unwrapping 100 or so items results in a LOT of torn paper and ribbon and general messiness, so what Holli really needs right now isn’t advice about being charitable, it’s Christine’s “friend’s” cell phone number!

When Holli posts a smiley face, she’s basically telling you to fuck yourself. Multiple smiley faces in a row = multiple 'fuck you’s in a row. Soo, with that in mind, Holly-with-a-'y’, Y don’t you just go take your pretty red coat and your pretty red boots and your long, stupid hair and your straight, white teeth and donate THOSE things to someone in need, huh? I can think of plenty of people who could use a new set of teeth! Or better yet, an apartment of their own! How about donating your condo, eh, Holly? Or are you just good at pressuring friends to donate their kids’ treasured $.99 toy cars?! Here’s a tip: If you don’t have the number to a reliable, hard-working, and extremely affordable ~~friend~~ maid, don’t bother commenting.

4. Getting a Toy Store For Christmas

Haha, Red, that depends on your definition of “enough”!! Sure, this impenetrable wall of presents appears to be enough, but in this day and age, asking if a Christmas haul is really enough is certainly a worthwhile question. Personally, I think it’s all about context. Compared to other kids today, this butt-load of gifts looks pretty decent, but compared to Christmases throughout time, it’s phenomenal!

Think about it: If a child received a dead frog for Christmas in 1841, a single bicycle wheel in 1905, half a piece of bread in 1934, and a Cabbage Patch doll and Mr. T puzzle in 1984, Red’s kids are doing great. But compared to Valerie's kids’ haul from last year, Red’s kids almost look impoverished:

Gifts, gifts everywhere! Gift-a-palooza! It’s an explosion of love and money and toys! Did you know that there are live human children sitting in this sea of luxury? They’re nearly unrecognizable and are having the time of their lives! They are blessed beyond belief and can’t wait to go “shopping” in their own living room every other week until they leave for college. Lord, let us rejoice in the splendid joy that is Christmas. Amen.

Related: Hayley’s Xmas Disney Wish List

(submitted by Anonymous)

Christmas '13: Xmas Day Round-Up

Wed, 01 Jan 2014 18:59:45 -0500

Happy New Year, everyone! The rest of this week is dedicated to holiday posts, and then next week we can truly begin ANEW. First up: more Christmas. We’ve seen the pre-Christmas submissions, and now it’s time to talk about some Christmas DAY submissions. All of that other stuff was just leading up to THIS stuff! Or something. Okay, this post is really more of a generic Christmas Round-Up, Part II, but most of these updates were posted on Christmas Day. Let’s take a moment to review another cross-section of merry social media delights and celebrate the (end of the) season:

1. Adoorable Christmas Baby

Jennifer has an all-access backstage VIP pass to her accessively cute baby, and on a holiday like Christmas, who could ask for anything more? It’s like words loose all meaning when a kid is as accessively cute as DJ is. ♥

2. Best Christmas Present #1

Vanessa got a positive home pregnancy test for Christmas! And not just one of those pregnancy tests that was purchased off of Craigslist – this is a real one with HER pee on it. Totally worth sharing on Instagram. That’s what Instagram is for. I just wonder if Vanessa took video of the pregnancy test, too? I mean since Instagram has the option to film, why ;wouldn’t she record a short mini-doc of the stick doing its thang with the pee on it? Chemical reactions'n shit. Then everyone could witness the precise moment that Vanessa saw the plus sign. :) Living in the moment means sharing in the moment, all the time, with everyone, forever!! #merryxmaseveryone #xmasmomentsofInstagram

3. Best Christmas Present #2

Every year, some very lucky parents (and their kids) join the Poop In The Potty Christmas Club. This is not unlike saying, “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings,” except it’s more like, “Every time a bell rings, a kid takes a crap in the toilet for the first time.”

I understand, as always, that a child’s first potty training success is a momentous occasion often preceded by much prayer and hardship. And when a kid just so happens to christen a potty the same day that Christ was born, well, it’s a blessing to say the least. But no one wants to associate “reading through Christmas updates on Facebook” with reading about people shitting. Toddler or not, Christmas poop is a gift I don’t recommend giving online.

4. Organic Christmas Brunch

It makes sense that this post is about a brunch buffet, because to me, it’s the picture of self-serving. Baby Liam is serving himself some homemade breast milk, and Stephanie is serving herself a few scoops of eye-roll-inducing ego. Everyone gets what they wanted for Christmas! All-natural self-righteousness for breakfast does a body good.

5. Girl Talk

It’s not Christmas without a little labor talk on Facebook, am I right? SO apropos. Some people post about drinking eggnog, others post about losing their mucus plug. Some people talk about unwrapping their presents, others discuss stripping their membranes. It’s all relative, really. But wait – there’s more:

Bethany has something gross to tell Kiley – so gross that it requires AN ALL CAPS WARNING and a private message – and Jenna’s taking home the trophy for Most TMI Comment This Holiday Season. It’s one thing to publicly recommend that a friend get her membranes stripped, but it’s a whoooole other thing to refer to mucus plug regeneration and tack on a sad/pained smiley emoji. Does Jenna not know what comes to most people’s minds when they hear “regenerate”? This, this, and this. No.

6. Mom’s Gold Star: Holiday Edition

Sherri’s update cracks me up because A) It’s true, and B) What could be more annoying than checking lists more than twice? Pretty much nothing. Santa is already diligently making his lists and checking them twice, but now that modern day parents give their kids such yoonique names, Santa is forced to go back and check those lists yet again. He could be doing something way more constructive with his time, like washing his beard or fulfilling the Christmas wishes of cancer patients, but instead he has to make sure he’s correctly organized gifts for Brayden, Braeden, and Brädûn.

Speaking of gifts…

Jen calls it like she sees it. And what she sees here is a picture of her daughter’s floating head hole-punched and glued on an angel’s body, except the whole body is comprised of baby handprints and footprints. Maybe the daycare teacher was high when she came up with this craft project? Some people get weird around the holidays, especially when it comes to DIY decorations and greetings.

7. Virtual Christmas Card

Finally, we have Julie’s family’s “twisted” virtual Christmas card. On the pro side, there’s creative execution and well-defined baby abs, but on the con side, I’m not totally sold on the concept. Like the submitter wrote, “If they’d left it at the flying superhero baby, I would have thought it was cute. Why they felt the need to make it look like he was flying out of her vagina is beyond me.” Alas, we all celebrate the holidays in our own special ways. That’s why it’s the most wonderful time of the year. If Julie wants to depict herself as giving birth to a superhero baby that came shooting out of her vagina, so be it. May we all be so fortunate.

(submitted by Anonymous)

Christmas '13: A Narrative Poem

Sun, 29 Dec 2013 10:31:26 -0500

How charming is this satire of “A Visit From St. Nicholas,” written by an adorable dad named Noah? His daughter’s festive barf not only inspired rhymes like “PJ’s / holidays” and “Christmas Eve / dry heave,” but it inspired a little barf photography, as well. No poem about vomit is complete without a picture. Sure, part of what makes poetry great is that it’s visually evocative by design, and most of the time no image is necessary. But when a clever guy like Noah takes the time to pair a finely-crafted (and FUNNY) puke poem with an aerial puke picture, it’s like all of a sudden you can’t imagine experiencing one without the other. He knew just what his puke poem needed: a smattering of his kid's chunky Mac and Cheese barf. ‘Twas the final flourish.

Now, if only parents like Noah and Melinda would stop intentionally misspelling their kids’ first names to be different. “Brooklynn”? Because it’s a combination of the city “Brooklyn” and the name “Lynn”? How does Noah expect his friends to read his metred verses of barf poetry in good humor when he gave his daughter a name like “Brooklynn”? Unless, of course, he and Melinda gave Brooklynn her name as a nod to Mary J. Blige’s alter ego, at which point I apologize and offer my sincere respect.

Related: The Sink vs. The Toilet

(submitted by Anonymous)

Christmas '13: Xmas Eve Round-Up

Sat, 28 Dec 2013 19:59:00 -0500

The lead-up to Christmas is almost as much a cause for celebration as the big day itself. People begin casting “Christmas” and “Santa” as central characters in their Facebook updates as early as mid-November, and by the end of December, you better believe they’re keeping the holidays top-of-mind when they’re posting online (with or without an Elf on the Shelf obsession). Let’s check out some of the ways Christmas made an appearance in this year’s pre-December 25th submissions:

1. Mid-Labor Wish List

One of the best things about the myth of Santa is the way Santa’s got everything covered. Anything you want, Santa’s got. A particular toy, a gold watch, perhaps a mid-labor epidural – they’re all within Santa’s reach. Naturally, it makes sense for Lisa to take a minute out from laboring to make her request formally known on Facebook. Back in the day, a pregnant woman had to hand-write letters to Santa weeks in advance to request an epidural, but in 2013 she can just send a quick status update using her cell phone from a hospital bed. Technology + Santa makes epidural wishes come true.

2. Holiday Grandmajacking

Okay, here’s the thing: It’s great when grandparents are excited about their grandkids, especially when a new baby is going to be born “any day!” However, I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen this exact type of grandmajacking, and honestly, enough is enough. We get it, Lorie, you’ve been blessed with four grandchildren and can’t help sharing your excitement. But, how about waiting until the little guy has actually arrived to start grandmajacking everyone you know? “A tactful grandmajacker must exercise patience.” That’s an old Chinese proverb.

UPDATE! This submission has since come in:

Give it a rest, grandmas.

3. Festive Mama Drama

Daaaaamn, Santa better update his naughty or nice list, 'cause Vanessa’s about to score a stocking full of coal. Lauren really should mind her own business, considering Gabby’s biological father is a piece of shit and a sorry excuse for a dad, but Vanessa might want to learn this neat little trick called “deleting a friend’s comment off your page and messaging her privately about why her comment sucked.” Otherwise a Facebook brawl might break out, and no one needs that shit around Christmas.

4. Prepping For Santa

What's ~~worst~~ worse, being “passed out” or “past out”? I’m not even sure what being ‘past out’ is, but I’m guessing it’s when you stay up looking through old photos and get unexpectedly sentimental and basically overdose on reminiscing about the past, possibly after drinking too much wine. That to me sounds worse than being customarily 'passed out’, UNLESS you were supposed to put together a 100-pound Thomas table and train set before passing out and a little boy’s Christmas joy hangs in the balance. If those were the options, I think I’d choose to be past out instead.

5. Sanctimommy Drive-Thru Rant

Red doesn't yell at all the able-bodied, childless fuckfaces who sit on their lazy asses in their carbon-spewing cars in drive-thru lines because she’s a woman of Christ and she’s gotta show the love of Jesus. BUT, if Red wasn't the good Christian woman that she is, she would be PLENTY happy to give all the selfish, well-rested, non-handicapped, kid-free douchecanoes a real piece of her mind. As it happens, Jesus wouldn’t have done that, so Red doesn’t do it either.

Alas, the society in which we live is so full of arrogant people willing to sit in drive-thru lines without having any disabilities or small children to tend to – as though that’s even remotely logical or acceptable – that Red’s faith gets tested literally every time she gets a hankering for a quarter-pounder with cheese. Especially on a day like Christmas Eve! Lol! It’s a good thing she avoids fast food restaurants. :) End Rant!

(submitted by Anonymous)

Christmas 2013: Inconsiderate Assholes Edition

Fri, 27 Dec 2013 21:56:00 -0500

We already know how much some parents hate parking far from a store’s entrance, especially with the kid(s) in tow. But having to park farther than 3 feet from the door AND tolerate inconsiderate asshole drivers who park too close? Fuck. That. Noise.

Parents have STROLLERS. They have CAR SEAT CARRIERS. They have HUMAN CHILDREN, and guess what, Mr. and Mrs. Park-Too-Close-Inconsiderate-Assholes, Meghan doesn’t give a shit if Santa doesn’t bring her any gifts this year. She doesn’t want gifts; she wants revenge. And she’s more than happy to spread her own version of “yuletide cheer” all over your car door handles if that’s what the situation calls for.

Haha haha haha WHUT? We are living in an age where it’s not only funny and so awesome to smear a dirty diaper on a stranger’s car door handles, but it’s also appropriate to brag about it on Facebook and expect a resounding chorus of “lol"s and "love it!"s in the comments. Seriously, guys, I’m not trying to get all doomsday in the final days of the year, but this is not a good sign for the future of the human race. Or the future of the automotive industry, for that matter, since apparently most cars are going to be covered in shit within a matter of years. Just imagine if you’d smeared a baby’s nasty diaper contents onto the door handles of every single car that’s ever parked too closely to yours. I’m talking about a major shit bonanza, and that’s not even including all the years that Hummers and Suburbans were popular (although technically those cars would qualify as my Top 2 shit-victims).

Do we as a people have a shred of common decency left, if not for our fellow parking lot neighbors, then for ourselves? Not to sound elitist, but if I ever wiped my proverbial baby’s shit all over someone else’s car’s door handles, it wouldn’t exactly register as a peak moment in my life. It’s almost as though Meghan translated the expression "Revenge is a dish best served cold,” to mean, “Throw poop at stuff in the wintertime!” Which… no. That’s what chimps do. Chimps and people who define karma as “Exerting maximum spitefulness upon individuals who mildly cramp your style at the mall.” Way to keep civilization moving forward, Meghan.

(submitted by Anonymous)