Maybe you already know this, but a little while back Facebook invented a marvelous time machine called “On This Day.” Each day, the feature pulls an assortment of memories from a year before, two years before, all the way back to when you first joined Facebook. Some memories are awesome — Awww, look how tiny your baby was! — but some can be, well, cringeworthy.
Like this one time Facebook reminded me what an absolute jerk I was before having kids.
You ready? Here it goes:
Wow, she seems fun. Let’s invite her to our next party.
It got worse in the comments. Non-parent me went on and on about how she would never, ever parent that way. I mean, what kind of mother hands her kid an iPad on a lunch date? I’ll answer that: the lazy kind! It’s called quality time, parents! Try it sometime.
So there my cringe-worthy status remains, reminding me every year just how mean I was when I was younger, and also, what a big fat liar I am.
But I’m not alone, right? Maybe your shame isn’t immortalized on Facebook, but admit it: We have all sworn we wouldn’t do certain things as parents, and we are all totally doing them now. Time makes liars of us all, but that no-kid know-it-all?
They have pants…on fire.
Here are just a few of the whoppers you can expect from the childless parenting experts:
“I won’t let my kid have meltdowns in public!”
Oh, that’s sweet. I hope you have a never-ending supply of candy, live in a tent at Disney World, and carry around a magic bag of Sleep Dust for naps and bedtime. Oh, and avoid grocery stores. And bath time. And vegetables. And any form of discipline, ever.
“My kid will eat whatever I eat, always.”
Enjoy your diet of cheese, noodles, breaded chicken, and apple juice.
“I won’t leave the house looking like a hungover zombie.”
Get back to me when there’s spit-up in your hair, you haven’t slept in a week, and your meals consist of half-eaten leftovers. If you can make that look sexy, I’ll eat my hat.
“I won’t stop going out with friends just because I have kids.”
Enjoy that 3 a.m. tequila shot while you can because when your hangover is met with a hungry baby at 6 a.m., a gallon of orange juice spilled on the kitchen floor, and the toddler sneaking away to find something to stick in the light socket, well, I’m betting Netflix in pajamas will start looking reeeal nice.
“My kids won’t play with those beeping, singing, cheap plastic toys — only wooden and made in America!”
Yeah, but here’s the thing about those little wooden toys. Batteries aren’t necessary, but you totally are. “Mommy come play with me! Mommy pull the doggy! Mommy stack the blocks! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Repeat after me: VTech is your friend. The shinier, the blinkier, the more distracting, the better.
“I will never use technology to distract my kids in a restaurant.”
Riiight. When you are sick to death of cooking and that little pizzeria downtown is calling your name, when all you want in the world is five minutes of silence and some garlic knots, yeah, you will fold. But who cares? Daniel Tiger never killed anybody. Hand that iPad over and order up, mama. You deserve a break.
“I won’t show up late all the time and blame my kids. That’s rude.”
Okay, you just wait until the day you actually leave the house 30 minutes early. All of a sudden a potty training bladder is on red alert; somebody’s sock gets twisted beneath their shoe; a sippy cup lid pops off and liquid flies everywhere. Oh, and the baby will definitely have a blowout. Punctuality is nice and all, but so is my sanity. I’ll wipe the butts, fix the socks, clean the juice, and then I’ll be there. If you love me, you can wait.
“My kids won’t watch TV. Nope.”
*spits out coffee* Hahaha! Yeah, sorry, they will.
“I won’t back down from my parenting plans. I believe in them, so I’ll just stick to my guns.”
Ouch. Did it hurt falling off that high horse? Aw, hon. We’ve all been there. I’ve obviously been there. Cut yourself some slack, put the kids on the couch, and turn on Frozen. Let it go. You can’t help that babies are adorable little wrecking balls out to destroy your best-laid plans. It’s time to admit defeat.
Lower your standards, own your lies, and pour yourself a big ole glass of wine. May I recommend the red?
It pairs well with crow.