~I haven’t been to the dentist in over 3 years. My 3-year-old has never been ~
I know, this makes me a bad mom, right? I loathe the dentist, more than any primary physician or OB/GYN on the planet. I would rather have a pap smear and double-appendectomy at the same time, thankyouverymuch. The only thing I want near my mouth is a good merlot, Chicago deep dish and my baby’s lips. Anything sharper than a French fry on my gums has caused such sever pain and trauma in the past, I’ve developed a case of PTDD (post traumatic dentist disorder.) The visions of blood and smoke during a quadruple wisdom tooth removal surgery when I was 21 will forever be etched in my brain. So it pains me to have to subject my children to this bi-yearly ritual. Little Woman has already has more teeth pulled than I knew existed in a 10-year-old’s mouth. Yes, I know it’s necessary for their oral and overall health, but doesn’t mean I have to like it. So I’ll be the mom curled into the fetal position in the corner of the waiting room, quietly sobbing and chewing on the handles of her Coach bag.
~I refuse to serve my kids cooked vegetables ~
I hate the texture of cooked vegetables, it reminds me of something similar to regurgitated dog puke. So needless to say, I never prepare veggies in my house that are not gently steamed and seasoned with butter and a dash of pepper. Nothing less, nothing more. There are specific veggies that I use to abhor eating as a kid, such as brussel sprouts and sauerkraut, which my mom use to force me to eat. I would do the hold-the-nose trick, followed by a swig of water, just to get rid of the taste. Ever do that? I’ve decided to never subject my kids to that kind of torture. Anything that sounds weird, smells funny and tastes even worse shall never enter my home, nor be crammed down my kid’s throats. Besides, I’m sure I’m already unconsciously doing things that will screw with their adult psyche, costing them thousands in future therapy bills anyway. Whether they eat cooked carrots or not won’t make a huge difference.
~ Barney and Elmo can suck it ~
There are certain childhood characters that make my skin crawl. To me, they hold no educational value and are just annoying as shit. A 6-foot tall naked dinosaur that dances around with children expressing his love through song just sounds a bit pedophilic to me. Don’t even get me started on the Teletubbies; those bitches don’t even speak English! And the visuals are of one tripping on a speedball. Not that I’ve ever done that, but I could only imagine. And Elmo….well, the voice alone could drive my neighborhood dogs insane. Now SpongeBob SquarePants, that’s a show I can kick back and watch with the kids while enjoying a glass of wine and a bowl full of goldfish crackers, laughing my ass off. Soak it up kids, soak it up.
~ Pop is not a food group. Pop is bad ~
As a kid, during the week, I lived with a mom that refused to buy anything that resembled pop. And I hated her for it. All my friends could drink pop, why not me? She would stock the kitchen with milk, Kool-Aid and Tang (remember that crap?) Needless to say, when I was with my dad on the weekends, I would drink nothing BUT pop. Enough to satisfy my craving and upset my stomach. BLAH. Then, as an adult, I learned the true nutritional value of the sugary substance, which was an eye opener! Nothing but empty calories, flavored water filled with chemicals. I’d be better off drinking my own piss. So I made the choice, years ago, to severely cut my intake to almost nothing, and have succeeded. Little Woman has had maybe a dozen cans of pop in 10 years. Dude has never tasted a drop, as it will continue to be. Suddenly I’ve become my mom all over again…and that alone scares the crap out of me. And yet, I’m starting to “get” her at the same time. Shivers!