Tag Archives: mom

She’s a bad motha….shut yo mouth

20 May

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Yesterday, while getting dressed…

“Honey, do I look ok?”
“Yeah, you look good. Like a suburban mom.”

Hmpf. OK? Meh. That was intended as a compliment but it feels like a giant disappointment.

No offense to suburban moms; you look great…really you do. It is likely, that yes, I look like one of you. Well, more like the shabby, hot mess version. Those expensive track suits, ironic messy, yet coifed pony tails and that Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, infinity heart pendant, you’re making that shit look good. I should feel fortunate that my husband sees me in the company of the play date connoisseurs. Now that I think about it, I kind of want to look like this. It reeks of competence and responsibility. I think the reason I can’t get my pony tail to have that perfect bump in the back is because my credit score is iffy. Shit. I don’t belong with you. I’m a fraud! Hubs was trying to make me feel better and I missed the boat. Again. I’m never satisfied.

I do take offense to one thing. Fancy stretchy pants. Remember that recent Lulu Lemon recall? Yeah that line of stupidly expensive yoga wear? They recalled some yoga pants that probably cost $80 dollars. (HOLY SHIT. I just googled that crap, because, really I have no idea how much they cost and 1. It’s Lululemon, one word. Fine. Whatever. 2. The pants? $92 for the base model. Screw you! They better come with AC and heated seats.) How can a pair of pants get a recall, you ask? Because, apparently the keester fabric was too thin and ladies were unwittingly showing off more of their backdoor business than they intended. I call bullshit on that. The reason I know this is total BS, is two things happen the second you put on a pair of stretchy pants. First, you check up front to make sure you’re not sporting, what I like to call, ‘charlie tango’. That’s code for an unfortunate pants meet lady parts wardrobe malfunction. This code allows you to talk about it in front of none the wiser strangers. (“Holy shit, Becky, charlie tango, three o’clock!”) Second, after assessing your charlie tango situation, you immediately check out your ass in a full length mirror. Immediately. You might bend over or give a squat. You may not like what you see, but you still check. Every time. Fact. Lululemon got taken. If I was the CEO I would have released a statement that said, “Bitch, please. You knew your ass was hanging out. You thought those shapely capris might get you a little flirty action at the people aquarium, and it did. But instead of inviting you out for a mochacappalatachino, that dude you’ve been making eyes at during your spin class, yeah, he called you out on your 3D crack exposure. Now you’re embarrassed and want new pants. Eat it. You paid $92, sucker. You can afford another pair with the appropriate thread count. OR…shrink your ass and don’t stretch our Bangladeshi made crap so much…or…put your can in the air in the privacy of your own home. Love, Lelulemon”

I’ve never been edgy but I really feel like I have a city mom inside me. I could wear heels all day. I could…if my arches would allow it and not scream at me with searing pain. I could commute on a train, by choice, not because the shame train is my only option due to a license suspension. I could balance dance recitals and cocktail parties. I could do all of those things. But I won’t. It sounds like too much work.

Suburban mom, city mom…in my book still better than country mom. We all know country mom doesn’t look like Carrie Underwood’s hot ass. She looks frumpy and tired and says things like, ‘well nex time we go ta town, wheal hav ta see bout that.’ I grew up there and I never want to go back. (Don’t confuse this with the sweetness of growing up on a small town. These are totally different things.)

Now that I’ve offended just about every woman with a used uterus, here’s the real deal. If I find myself wearing stretchy pants with one high heel and one shit kicker, BUT, the baby is fed, happy and healthy, I will claim partial motherhood success. Who gives a shit what kind of mom you are? Total success will come if the wee one grows into a thoughtful, generous and kind young woman. Any way we get there is just fine by me. I have no idea if I’m capable of or even should be in charge of such an important job. I try not to think about it too much because I’m kind of an idiot.

Suburban, city or country mom….I’ll take any of the three, as long as I don’t jack up her chances of creating a wonderful life too badly. That being said, if she ever spends $92 on Lycra pants, I will shit purple nickels and hang my head in shame.

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