- GUEST OPINION: The Will for Moose-Wilson
- FEATURE: Letters to the Future
- THE BUZZ: Moose-Wilson Road Hogs
- THEM ON US
- GET OUT: Silencing the Storm
- MUSIC BOX: Resorts Represent, Afroman Returns
- CREATIVE PEAKS: The War on Wild
- WELL, THAT HAPPENED: Murders Up North, There
- WELL, THAT HAPPENED: Six Shooters and Ten Pins
- THE FOODIE FILES: The Bad News About Bacon
Galloping Grandma 5.14.15
I am writing this on Mother’s Day. My children have been posting unflattering pictures of me on Facebook all day, but since they think gypsies abandoned them on my doorstep, I guess that’s OK.
There are all kinds of mothers out there. There is the Mother of Invention, the Motherload, the Motherboard, Mother Courage, Mother Machree, Whistler’s Mother, and even that gunk in the vinegar bottle is Mother of Vinegar. There are also some mothers we can’t discuss in polite society.
Now that more women are waiting until later in life to have their first child, and then only one or two, motherhood has become a sadistic cult. No one is safe from the mommy fairies flapping around, telling people what to do and scaring them to death.
Let’s start in the delivery room. Delivery room? No, wait, let’s start after a joyous nine months with no weight gain and pictures taken in a bikini. Today you can have the baby anywhere, like in a bathtub or at home, but do invite all the neighbors, make it an event of joy and love and wonder. Have a birth plan, a birth coach, no drugs and take videos.
What they don’t tell you is that your birth plan will consist of screaming and screeching and hollering for every drug in the place while they yank out a human being with what feels like a toilet plunger. Meanwhile, the birth coach will have fainted or gone out for pizza. Forget the videos.
Once the child is here, the organic food freaks arrive. Did you know that a child’s first veggie is most likely to be a McDonald’s French fry? You can grow your organic vegetables and steam and grind them into your own organic baby food, which your child will refuse to eat, as any self-respecting child should. You can also take Spaghetti-Os, squish the contents with a fork and baby will eat it up just fine.
Mothers today are told to worry about giving their children healthy snacks, but once your child has taken his gluten-free, organic, tasteless graham cracker and dipped it in the toilet, does it matter? I caught one of my children happily chewing gum she scraped off the underside of a table in a truck stop. She survived. My husband used to snack on dog biscuits when he was a kid. He does not chase cats or bark at strangers, but he does bark at me from time to time. It’s called adventurous eating.
I feel sorry for moms today. They are supposed to be skinny, sexy, lead fabulous lives, and not be fat, frumpy and overwhelmed like we were allowed to be. We didn’t want to be fat, frumpy and overwhelmed, but it happened and if women can’t be all the things they are supposed to be, they shouldn’t let the Frump Fairy make their lives miserable.
I have a friend, and her name is Swanhilda, she is a big white swan and she is sitting on a nest near my home. Before long, she will have grey, fuzzy babies just like last year. She has no birth plan, no stretch mark fears, no gluten-free snacks, but she will be what she is supposed to be, a great mom, just like you.