That infamous DIY project downstairs is preventing me from doing anything
a) downstairs, or
b) with my mancakes
so I've taken to holing up, upstairs on the computer, or making phone calls.
I'm truly annoyed. But this is my new-age journal, right? So I can just let it out and write whatever I want to, RIGHT? But alas there's that gamble you take that someone out there in the great, wide, universe is going to read it and get offended, right?
Heh heh. Today? That sounds like something that'd be right up my alley.
It's happened again. Another friend dropped another kid. I don't even have a CLUE how many that makes for this year, and wouldn't have a hope in hell of figuring out what that makes for over the past 3 years. . .
All I know is that I get this really terrible "aw fuck, HERE WE GO AGAIN" feeling which, I know, is a terrible horrible damnable offense that I should be drawn and quartered and set alight for feeling. I'm a downright dispicable human being. Tell me something I didnt know.
I guess I can sort of quasi-protect myself by not naming names, but as far as I'm concerned, this baby has been in existance for literally only DAYS, and has already managed to affect my friendship with (we'll call her) Holly Hotpants.
Now, I have a lot of friends with kids these days, so I should just make the important primary note that this does not apply to all of them. . . oh god no, some of my parental-type friends are cool, and have cool kids, and don't act like total fucksticks when it comes to the things I'm about ready to let lose on. Let's just say that I can already tell that good ol' Hols is NOT going to be one of those. (Refer to afore-mentioned phone calls.) How can it BE... that something like the birth of a kid on the other side of the world can be a determining factor in WHO **MY** BEST FRIENDS ARE?!?!?
Note to self:
Self, I'm making a point of commiting this stuff to writing, in the hopes that someday you'll look back on this and read it and remember the sheer hysteria this subject causes in your mind. Someday, you may have a kid (oh god no, maybe only 1?? BUT ISN'T THAT INHUMANE, AND A SELFISH, UN-LOVING THING TO DO TO A POOR INNOCENT LIFE? HAVE ONLY ONE?!?? not two? or three? or like, REALLY good parents have FIFTEEN, right?!?!? They have to have PLAYMATES, you know?!?!?)... Wait!!, this isnt the paragraph where I'm supposed to get all aggro-freakshow on poor old Holly! Give it at least another paragraph or two! My point is only that I need to remember this stuff, because someday that COULD be me, and I need to GET SOME FRIGGIN PERSPECTIVE.
GO THE BLOG!!!
Here's why I get shitty with all these baby-dropping friends of mine at the moment. Allow me to just be bold and get it out of the way: Arrogant, self-absorbed, egomaniacs. That's what they turn into. (Disclaimer: NOT ALL, I said!) Experts on damn near everything. Sure, I'll give 'em the whole conception/incubation/labour/diaper-changing-thing. Please, TAKE IT. Be the expert. You're right. I haven't done it, so please, LET THE WORLD KNOW all about why you know so much about these things.
But religion? Politics? Ethics? Education? Social issues? Jesus christ, leave SOMETHING for the rest of us, wouldja????!?!?
Since when does YOU giving birth, take away MY education (some of us DO have other things besides babies, see) and make ME an idiot and less a part of society???
Let me give myself an example. I want this to be commited to writing. Seriously.
Conversation PRE-mother status:
HH: So what did you think of that restaurant?
ME: Kickass! The lamb vindaloo was perfect. But how 'bout yer woman at that table over there with the friggin life-sized SUV baby buggy in the middle of the damn restaurant blocking all the pathways and tripping up the damn waiter all night? Not to mention the screaming kid? Fuckin A, and the LOOK she gave me when I had to wedge my giant ass through that micro-crack, just to squeeze past and reach the TOILET! I must have accidentally TOUCHED the precious little poppet or something. (or was it the eyeroll? oh well)
HH: I KNOW! Who the hell brings a baby into a boutique indian restaurant at 9:30 at night anyway, let alone in a goddamn horse-drawn carriage!??! Talk about killing the atmosphere. Wasn't that supposed to be the one on the "top ten romantic date restaurants" they listed in the paper last week? Fuck!
ME: Yeah no shit, there's nowhere in town left for adults to hide these days. I HATE that woman. I wanted to SMACK her.
HH: Yeah, I mean, BABYSITTER, HEL-LO?!?!?
CONVERSATION POST-BIRTH:
HH: So how are you?
ME: Dude!... I just got a new j....
HH: You'll never BELIEVE how much ____ is feeding these days!! She just makes this most unbelievably intellegent noises!! OMG did I tell you about how yesterday she CHANGED HER OWN DIAPER??? I'm seriously considering locking her up in the basement for the rest of her life, because, you know, the liberal media is just TOO DANGEROUS she might turn into a TERRORIST and start shooting HEROINE and by the way did I tell you that when you come out to visit next summer you're going to have to camp in the backyard beause we're going to give her TWO bedrooms because she's just so special she needs one room for sitting and one room for farting, and oh yeah we won't be going out with you anymore when you come visit because we don't believe in beer, or babysitters, so maybe you can just drop your baby gifts at the door on your way to whereever it is you live now, I cant remember because I really dont give a shit anymore-- you did buy her presents, didnt you?
Exaggeration? Maybe. But the underlying currents are there, believe it.
And talk about CENSORSHIP. Holy BALLS batman! I cant say SHIT to these people anymore (we'll give Holly a break here, because this is something I've been going through for the last few years of my "special-friend-who's-childless" status). I used to be chilled-out Jill, who felt comfortable around all my friends, saying whatever the hell it was that came into my mind. Granted, that also warranted a few lessons in damage-control, but still!
Let me list a few things that I am no longer allowed, as a sub-ranking member of the human race, to utter reference to in conversation. They include, yet are not limited to the following:
-- Children screaming in public
-- Children running around in (go figure) adult restaurants
-- Mothers who plow into you with their life-sized SUV buggies and don't say "sorry"
-- People who talk about nothing but children all day
-- That kid over there who's grabbing handfuls of grapes off the produce counter and throwing them at me, whilst simultaneously screaming at the top of his little fuckin lungs and bashing some 95-year old man in the back of the legs with his miniature baby shopping-cart-of-death while mommy says softly "Owen, please dont make mommy sad, Owen. Owen, when you act like a menace to society it hurts mommy's feelings, Owen. Owen, Please don't make mommy say your name again, Owen..."
-- Anything even vaguely related to discipline, whatsoever. Be it my (god-given) humble opinion or just simple observations about the world that I, too, live in.
FAIR ENOUGH-- I go out of my way NOT to say anything pertaining to that whole childbirth thing, because they are entirely correct when they give you that whole "until you've done it, you wouldnt know" thing. And I mean, that's cool. (And True!) Besides, I know some of my peeps censor themselves in certain areas, regarding me and my convictions. Some of them know better than to pontificate on their sheer enjoyment of greyhound racing. My brother graciously avoids rambling on about his love of fossil-fuel guzzling yank-tanks which are used for nothing other than city driving and feuling George W's desire to ignore the Kyoto protocal. My dad and I don't discuss politics. Mike and I don't discuss the war. Ashley and I (TRY not to discuss), her chain smoking.
But those things are ISSUES. They're not censorship of ME, and my PERSONALITY, my WORTHY EXISTANCE ON THIS PLANET and therefore my priviledge to be able to have an OPINION, even in my lowly status as childless!!! Shit, I mean, I havent climbed Mount Everest either, but I can still have an opinion about the price of food in Tesco last week, right?!?!? Two completely seperate issues. Completely unrelated. As, (IMHO) is the fact that I have NOT been pregnant, but I DO still think that kid should not be allowed to bash that innocent old man in the back of the legs, with a mini grocery cart!!!!! Or that kids are obese now because they aren't ALLOWED to get exercise, and can bitch-slap their own parents into giving them whatever the hell they want for snackies time!
I mean what the hell am I supposed to do with 19 friends sitting around who I cant even TALK to anymore, because I might say something anti-baby?!?! They're so hyper-sensitive!! If I mention screaming kids, I'm anti-them. If I mention the abandoned dogs related to parents who have babies and believe that "pets are too dirty for the baby"... I'm SCODLED for being unenlightened by childbirth, and told I "wouldn't understand", nor will I be "capable of understanding" until I join the club. I mention my disgust at Irish parents who drive their kids 2-blocks down the street instead of letting them walk, I'm ANTI, I get the dagger eyes, I get the "hmmph!" and all the "you're-too-stupid-to-understand" look that goes with it.
I know girls who know EVERYTHING now. Just, like, in the last few years, all of a sudden they've become OMNISCIENT. And I'm a friggin dumbass. A dumbass who can't even feel comfortable MAKING CONVERSATION anymore.
But here's the catch, see I DO know stuff. I may not have the credential of "mother" added to my resume, but I DO volunteer for animal welfare, and I know the EXACT NUMBER of dogs in Cork who had "new baby in household" written on their charts, that were saved last year, by 1 organization, from being euthanized. I know the exact increase in one's ecological footprint that comes from the use of non-degradable disposable diapers per household (53%, depending on how cloth ones are washed- I'm not villifying them! It's just part of my job, so I happen to know, ok?). I know that there's a fuckin TRAFFIC JAM in Cork every morning that makes ME late to work, because mothers who won't let their 13-year old kids walk down the street to school/ride the school bus, are taking up 2 lanes each with their mighty mighty deisel SUV's idling, stationary so that little precious poppet can get a curb-side dropoff, on a public road that *I* have every right to be driving down, unhindered!!! I pay road taxes!! And furthermore, I was a TEACHER in this town for TWO YEARS, I know for a FACT that shit goes down! I do not make crazy stories up! I heard it from the parents themselves, I spent 6 hours a day with kids between the ages of 5 and 13. I am NOT a freakin IDIOT when it comes to the existence of children on this planet. I am not so stupid that I don't have a concept of how difficult it is to deal with kids, or teach them successfully.
And furthermore, was I not a kid myself? HOLY SHIT, I WAS A CHILD! lo and behold! Can I not have an opinion on childhood based on the fact that I HAVE EXPERIENCE AS ONE?!?!? Why does that not give me some credit? See, I'm not trying ty get credit as a mother. I know I'm not one. I also don't try to give advice. . . yeah, if I was a mom, that'd piss me off too. I just TALK. That's all I do. Me the Talker. I just live my life, and I talk about it, and if one of the things I want to say is "Man, I hate it when they bring the screamers into the PG movies at 9:00!!!", then why the hell can't I??? just because the "friend" I happen to be talking to, happens to have offspring!!!!??!?!? It's not a personal attack, it's not passive-agressive advice, it's just. . . ME, having to be a human on this planet, and having to share it with people who think they own the whole damn place!! I still have rights!!
I'll tell you one more thing I know: I grew up as a child in a household with a parent who thought she knew everything. Someone who physically WENT TO UNIVERSITY to study child psychology and fuckin early childhood-whatnot, just to make it worse and even more official that she knew EVERYTHING.
I hated her starting at age 13, grew up hating her, we had a shit relationship, and still do. In fact, if I can be so bold to say that it is that very OMNISCIENT parent, who makes me consider not having children, EVER.
THAT'S where being a parent who thinks they know damn near EVERYTHING gets you. And THAT is what you call real life experience, which I am also entitled to using in forming my stupid damn opinion!
The Baby Conspiracy:
I've already lost good friends to the babies. Yeah, ok, sure they're still "good friends". Right. yeah. THOSE kind of friends. The kind of friends you say are "friends" but do you talk anymore? No. Do you go out anymore? No. Are you even living on the same PLANET anymore? Hardly. Wanna talk about movies? Nah, lets talk about diapers. Wanna go out to eat? Nah, I got a baby. Wanna have a double vanilla vodka and tonic with a twist? Nah, I gotta breastfeed. For 10 years. Wanna hear my latest dirty jokes with lots of gratuitous cuss words? Nah, the baby might subconsciously get wind of it and become ruined for eternity.
Why do I bother with the international phone calls. I may as well be watching THE BABY NETWORK on tv for free, 'cuz thats the kind of banter I'm gonna get anyway, and saving all that money for more friggin compulsory baby presents. Friends. Hmmm. I sincerely hope my dozens of "friendships" will eventually become rekindled and this ever-present loop of "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen, will stop running through my head, night and day!!!
I'll never forget the time Ray and I went over to Luthr's house, after his first little one was born. It really was beautiful, and I have to remember to thank him for this memory, next time I see him. Obviously Ray and I , being the childless low-life pair, figured that asking questions about the baby and sticking to baby-oriented topics of conversation would be the way to go... I mean, that's just what we were used to doing, and albeit more boring than hell, it worked to keep conversation going, and no one got offended, and the parents get their time to shine (which apparently they LOVE). Anyway, so there we go:
R: So, uh, when will she start crawling, exactly?
J: Yeah, you know, she really has your eyes. um...
R: I bet you're pretty tired these days, all those feedings...
J: Boy howdy! I just LOVED Seseme Street when I was a kid...
[Then, the weirdest thing happened]
L. (In kind of a "Holy hell who are you and what did you do with Jill & Ray!?" voice): Guys!! Jesus, we dont have to talk about baby stuff all day! Shit, she's 9 pounds, sometimes she poops, and maybe some day she'll grow up. So how was the trip over, and tell me about the Allmans concert, wouldja?!? I'm not gonna be one of those parents, ok?
I didnt appreciate it at the time, but now, that surreal experience in the Luthr household that summer day back in 1999 holds true meaning to me, and I feel I need to remember it for the future. You know, just in case.
Alright, I'll give the babies and the arrogant parents a break now. I think I've gotten it all out of my system. I'm just really shitty about the losing-friends part. They really are dropping like flies. And I cant put up with fake friendships that are based on phone calls where
1) I'm going to get treated like an idiot because I dont have kids and therefore don't get to have an opinion,
2) I have to talk about some baby I dont even know or care about, really
3) I have to act excited and itnerested in stuff that we would NEVER HAVE TALKED ABOUT BEFORE, SO WHY PRETEND, NOW?
4) Someone couldnt give 2 shits about me and my highs, lows, problems, ideas because there's this new UNIVERSE that they're living in which doesnt involve "those of us who just wouldn't understand".
Ugggg. I gotta GO BUY SOME MORE BABY PRESENTS. Who knows, maybe the whole gang'll meet up again once the rugrats are grown and gone and dont need the whole universe to revolve around 'em anymore, and then I'll be back to being an equal with a brain and some life experience, again, and we'll sit around the campfire, tell dirty jokes, and pass a joint and get wrecked and talk about fun stuff. And I won't be annoyed anymore.
a) downstairs, or
b) with my mancakes
so I've taken to holing up, upstairs on the computer, or making phone calls.
I'm truly annoyed. But this is my new-age journal, right? So I can just let it out and write whatever I want to, RIGHT? But alas there's that gamble you take that someone out there in the great, wide, universe is going to read it and get offended, right?
Heh heh. Today? That sounds like something that'd be right up my alley.
It's happened again. Another friend dropped another kid. I don't even have a CLUE how many that makes for this year, and wouldn't have a hope in hell of figuring out what that makes for over the past 3 years. . .
All I know is that I get this really terrible "aw fuck, HERE WE GO AGAIN" feeling which, I know, is a terrible horrible damnable offense that I should be drawn and quartered and set alight for feeling. I'm a downright dispicable human being. Tell me something I didnt know.
I guess I can sort of quasi-protect myself by not naming names, but as far as I'm concerned, this baby has been in existance for literally only DAYS, and has already managed to affect my friendship with (we'll call her) Holly Hotpants.
Now, I have a lot of friends with kids these days, so I should just make the important primary note that this does not apply to all of them. . . oh god no, some of my parental-type friends are cool, and have cool kids, and don't act like total fucksticks when it comes to the things I'm about ready to let lose on. Let's just say that I can already tell that good ol' Hols is NOT going to be one of those. (Refer to afore-mentioned phone calls.) How can it BE... that something like the birth of a kid on the other side of the world can be a determining factor in WHO **MY** BEST FRIENDS ARE?!?!?
Note to self:
Self, I'm making a point of commiting this stuff to writing, in the hopes that someday you'll look back on this and read it and remember the sheer hysteria this subject causes in your mind. Someday, you may have a kid (oh god no, maybe only 1?? BUT ISN'T THAT INHUMANE, AND A SELFISH, UN-LOVING THING TO DO TO A POOR INNOCENT LIFE? HAVE ONLY ONE?!?? not two? or three? or like, REALLY good parents have FIFTEEN, right?!?!? They have to have PLAYMATES, you know?!?!?)... Wait!!, this isnt the paragraph where I'm supposed to get all aggro-freakshow on poor old Holly! Give it at least another paragraph or two! My point is only that I need to remember this stuff, because someday that COULD be me, and I need to GET SOME FRIGGIN PERSPECTIVE.
GO THE BLOG!!!
Here's why I get shitty with all these baby-dropping friends of mine at the moment. Allow me to just be bold and get it out of the way: Arrogant, self-absorbed, egomaniacs. That's what they turn into. (Disclaimer: NOT ALL, I said!) Experts on damn near everything. Sure, I'll give 'em the whole conception/incubation/labour/diaper-changing-thing. Please, TAKE IT. Be the expert. You're right. I haven't done it, so please, LET THE WORLD KNOW all about why you know so much about these things.
But religion? Politics? Ethics? Education? Social issues? Jesus christ, leave SOMETHING for the rest of us, wouldja????!?!?
Since when does YOU giving birth, take away MY education (some of us DO have other things besides babies, see) and make ME an idiot and less a part of society???
Let me give myself an example. I want this to be commited to writing. Seriously.
Conversation PRE-mother status:
HH: So what did you think of that restaurant?
ME: Kickass! The lamb vindaloo was perfect. But how 'bout yer woman at that table over there with the friggin life-sized SUV baby buggy in the middle of the damn restaurant blocking all the pathways and tripping up the damn waiter all night? Not to mention the screaming kid? Fuckin A, and the LOOK she gave me when I had to wedge my giant ass through that micro-crack, just to squeeze past and reach the TOILET! I must have accidentally TOUCHED the precious little poppet or something. (or was it the eyeroll? oh well)
HH: I KNOW! Who the hell brings a baby into a boutique indian restaurant at 9:30 at night anyway, let alone in a goddamn horse-drawn carriage!??! Talk about killing the atmosphere. Wasn't that supposed to be the one on the "top ten romantic date restaurants" they listed in the paper last week? Fuck!
ME: Yeah no shit, there's nowhere in town left for adults to hide these days. I HATE that woman. I wanted to SMACK her.
HH: Yeah, I mean, BABYSITTER, HEL-LO?!?!?
CONVERSATION POST-BIRTH:
HH: So how are you?
ME: Dude!... I just got a new j....
HH: You'll never BELIEVE how much ____ is feeding these days!! She just makes this most unbelievably intellegent noises!! OMG did I tell you about how yesterday she CHANGED HER OWN DIAPER??? I'm seriously considering locking her up in the basement for the rest of her life, because, you know, the liberal media is just TOO DANGEROUS she might turn into a TERRORIST and start shooting HEROINE and by the way did I tell you that when you come out to visit next summer you're going to have to camp in the backyard beause we're going to give her TWO bedrooms because she's just so special she needs one room for sitting and one room for farting, and oh yeah we won't be going out with you anymore when you come visit because we don't believe in beer, or babysitters, so maybe you can just drop your baby gifts at the door on your way to whereever it is you live now, I cant remember because I really dont give a shit anymore-- you did buy her presents, didnt you?
Exaggeration? Maybe. But the underlying currents are there, believe it.
And talk about CENSORSHIP. Holy BALLS batman! I cant say SHIT to these people anymore (we'll give Holly a break here, because this is something I've been going through for the last few years of my "special-friend-who's-childless" status). I used to be chilled-out Jill, who felt comfortable around all my friends, saying whatever the hell it was that came into my mind. Granted, that also warranted a few lessons in damage-control, but still!
Let me list a few things that I am no longer allowed, as a sub-ranking member of the human race, to utter reference to in conversation. They include, yet are not limited to the following:
-- Children screaming in public
-- Children running around in (go figure) adult restaurants
-- Mothers who plow into you with their life-sized SUV buggies and don't say "sorry"
-- People who talk about nothing but children all day
-- That kid over there who's grabbing handfuls of grapes off the produce counter and throwing them at me, whilst simultaneously screaming at the top of his little fuckin lungs and bashing some 95-year old man in the back of the legs with his miniature baby shopping-cart-of-death while mommy says softly "Owen, please dont make mommy sad, Owen. Owen, when you act like a menace to society it hurts mommy's feelings, Owen. Owen, Please don't make mommy say your name again, Owen..."
-- Anything even vaguely related to discipline, whatsoever. Be it my (god-given) humble opinion or just simple observations about the world that I, too, live in.
FAIR ENOUGH-- I go out of my way NOT to say anything pertaining to that whole childbirth thing, because they are entirely correct when they give you that whole "until you've done it, you wouldnt know" thing. And I mean, that's cool. (And True!) Besides, I know some of my peeps censor themselves in certain areas, regarding me and my convictions. Some of them know better than to pontificate on their sheer enjoyment of greyhound racing. My brother graciously avoids rambling on about his love of fossil-fuel guzzling yank-tanks which are used for nothing other than city driving and feuling George W's desire to ignore the Kyoto protocal. My dad and I don't discuss politics. Mike and I don't discuss the war. Ashley and I (TRY not to discuss), her chain smoking.
But those things are ISSUES. They're not censorship of ME, and my PERSONALITY, my WORTHY EXISTANCE ON THIS PLANET and therefore my priviledge to be able to have an OPINION, even in my lowly status as childless!!! Shit, I mean, I havent climbed Mount Everest either, but I can still have an opinion about the price of food in Tesco last week, right?!?!? Two completely seperate issues. Completely unrelated. As, (IMHO) is the fact that I have NOT been pregnant, but I DO still think that kid should not be allowed to bash that innocent old man in the back of the legs, with a mini grocery cart!!!!! Or that kids are obese now because they aren't ALLOWED to get exercise, and can bitch-slap their own parents into giving them whatever the hell they want for snackies time!
I mean what the hell am I supposed to do with 19 friends sitting around who I cant even TALK to anymore, because I might say something anti-baby?!?! They're so hyper-sensitive!! If I mention screaming kids, I'm anti-them. If I mention the abandoned dogs related to parents who have babies and believe that "pets are too dirty for the baby"... I'm SCODLED for being unenlightened by childbirth, and told I "wouldn't understand", nor will I be "capable of understanding" until I join the club. I mention my disgust at Irish parents who drive their kids 2-blocks down the street instead of letting them walk, I'm ANTI, I get the dagger eyes, I get the "hmmph!" and all the "you're-too-stupid-to-understand" look that goes with it.
I know girls who know EVERYTHING now. Just, like, in the last few years, all of a sudden they've become OMNISCIENT. And I'm a friggin dumbass. A dumbass who can't even feel comfortable MAKING CONVERSATION anymore.
But here's the catch, see I DO know stuff. I may not have the credential of "mother" added to my resume, but I DO volunteer for animal welfare, and I know the EXACT NUMBER of dogs in Cork who had "new baby in household" written on their charts, that were saved last year, by 1 organization, from being euthanized. I know the exact increase in one's ecological footprint that comes from the use of non-degradable disposable diapers per household (53%, depending on how cloth ones are washed- I'm not villifying them! It's just part of my job, so I happen to know, ok?). I know that there's a fuckin TRAFFIC JAM in Cork every morning that makes ME late to work, because mothers who won't let their 13-year old kids walk down the street to school/ride the school bus, are taking up 2 lanes each with their mighty mighty deisel SUV's idling, stationary so that little precious poppet can get a curb-side dropoff, on a public road that *I* have every right to be driving down, unhindered!!! I pay road taxes!! And furthermore, I was a TEACHER in this town for TWO YEARS, I know for a FACT that shit goes down! I do not make crazy stories up! I heard it from the parents themselves, I spent 6 hours a day with kids between the ages of 5 and 13. I am NOT a freakin IDIOT when it comes to the existence of children on this planet. I am not so stupid that I don't have a concept of how difficult it is to deal with kids, or teach them successfully.
And furthermore, was I not a kid myself? HOLY SHIT, I WAS A CHILD! lo and behold! Can I not have an opinion on childhood based on the fact that I HAVE EXPERIENCE AS ONE?!?!? Why does that not give me some credit? See, I'm not trying ty get credit as a mother. I know I'm not one. I also don't try to give advice. . . yeah, if I was a mom, that'd piss me off too. I just TALK. That's all I do. Me the Talker. I just live my life, and I talk about it, and if one of the things I want to say is "Man, I hate it when they bring the screamers into the PG movies at 9:00!!!", then why the hell can't I??? just because the "friend" I happen to be talking to, happens to have offspring!!!!??!?!? It's not a personal attack, it's not passive-agressive advice, it's just. . . ME, having to be a human on this planet, and having to share it with people who think they own the whole damn place!! I still have rights!!
I'll tell you one more thing I know: I grew up as a child in a household with a parent who thought she knew everything. Someone who physically WENT TO UNIVERSITY to study child psychology and fuckin early childhood-whatnot, just to make it worse and even more official that she knew EVERYTHING.
I hated her starting at age 13, grew up hating her, we had a shit relationship, and still do. In fact, if I can be so bold to say that it is that very OMNISCIENT parent, who makes me consider not having children, EVER.
THAT'S where being a parent who thinks they know damn near EVERYTHING gets you. And THAT is what you call real life experience, which I am also entitled to using in forming my stupid damn opinion!
The Baby Conspiracy:
I've already lost good friends to the babies. Yeah, ok, sure they're still "good friends". Right. yeah. THOSE kind of friends. The kind of friends you say are "friends" but do you talk anymore? No. Do you go out anymore? No. Are you even living on the same PLANET anymore? Hardly. Wanna talk about movies? Nah, lets talk about diapers. Wanna go out to eat? Nah, I got a baby. Wanna have a double vanilla vodka and tonic with a twist? Nah, I gotta breastfeed. For 10 years. Wanna hear my latest dirty jokes with lots of gratuitous cuss words? Nah, the baby might subconsciously get wind of it and become ruined for eternity.
Why do I bother with the international phone calls. I may as well be watching THE BABY NETWORK on tv for free, 'cuz thats the kind of banter I'm gonna get anyway, and saving all that money for more friggin compulsory baby presents. Friends. Hmmm. I sincerely hope my dozens of "friendships" will eventually become rekindled and this ever-present loop of "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen, will stop running through my head, night and day!!!
I'll never forget the time Ray and I went over to Luthr's house, after his first little one was born. It really was beautiful, and I have to remember to thank him for this memory, next time I see him. Obviously Ray and I , being the childless low-life pair, figured that asking questions about the baby and sticking to baby-oriented topics of conversation would be the way to go... I mean, that's just what we were used to doing, and albeit more boring than hell, it worked to keep conversation going, and no one got offended, and the parents get their time to shine (which apparently they LOVE). Anyway, so there we go:
R: So, uh, when will she start crawling, exactly?
J: Yeah, you know, she really has your eyes. um...
R: I bet you're pretty tired these days, all those feedings...
J: Boy howdy! I just LOVED Seseme Street when I was a kid...
[Then, the weirdest thing happened]
L. (In kind of a "Holy hell who are you and what did you do with Jill & Ray!?" voice): Guys!! Jesus, we dont have to talk about baby stuff all day! Shit, she's 9 pounds, sometimes she poops, and maybe some day she'll grow up. So how was the trip over, and tell me about the Allmans concert, wouldja?!? I'm not gonna be one of those parents, ok?
I didnt appreciate it at the time, but now, that surreal experience in the Luthr household that summer day back in 1999 holds true meaning to me, and I feel I need to remember it for the future. You know, just in case.
Alright, I'll give the babies and the arrogant parents a break now. I think I've gotten it all out of my system. I'm just really shitty about the losing-friends part. They really are dropping like flies. And I cant put up with fake friendships that are based on phone calls where
1) I'm going to get treated like an idiot because I dont have kids and therefore don't get to have an opinion,
2) I have to talk about some baby I dont even know or care about, really
3) I have to act excited and itnerested in stuff that we would NEVER HAVE TALKED ABOUT BEFORE, SO WHY PRETEND, NOW?
4) Someone couldnt give 2 shits about me and my highs, lows, problems, ideas because there's this new UNIVERSE that they're living in which doesnt involve "those of us who just wouldn't understand".
Ugggg. I gotta GO BUY SOME MORE BABY PRESENTS. Who knows, maybe the whole gang'll meet up again once the rugrats are grown and gone and dont need the whole universe to revolve around 'em anymore, and then I'll be back to being an equal with a brain and some life experience, again, and we'll sit around the campfire, tell dirty jokes, and pass a joint and get wrecked and talk about fun stuff. And I won't be annoyed anymore.
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