So Christmas came and went and now its time to go back to not being nice to anyone. We sit back in our recliners going through the Facebook news feeds of our (sort of) friends displaying the pictures they think we all care about seeing. Everyone is trying to glorify their day, smiling and laughing, showing the 5% of their lives that they are okay with the public observing. “Ohemgee! I totally got an ipad and a new car and a private jet and …” Thanks. I’m just happy with my fluffy socks and new robe.
Around this time, before the full on self loathing begins, I start looking at the pictures saved on my camera. I begin to wonder just why I have to have bra induced back fat, and how in the hell I am in so many pictures with children. Sure, I love them. They are part of my family. I see the other women croon over the infant, battling for a turn to cuddle on him … meanwhile, I’m just trying to hide. I’m not a fan of kids. I don’t drool over them, I don’t think their crapping their pants is cute. The only ones I’ve ever liked were my niece and nephews… and even they got on my last nerves. Please don’t start sending me hate mail for hating kids … I don’t hate them. I’m just a 25 year old gal that doesn’t feel the need to procreate; I don’t think your kids are better than my cats. Cute, sure? But so are my kitties. It’s probably just because I’ve never been a mother, I don’t have that instinct. I was simply born without the chip that feels the need to breed. So no, I don’t hate children, I just don’t prefer to spend my time around them. Which is why it shocked the heck out of me when I saw just how many pictures there were of me holding kids.*
*Disclaimer: I learned a long time ago not to mess with Mama Bears. So in case you are one, and you are reading this: Your kid(s) is the bestest in the whole wide world! Cuter than cute! Sweeter than sweet! I just loooove his/her poopy bum. Please don’t eat me.
Anywho, back to the topic. In a desperate attempt to fit in (because Loony & family get-togethers are awkward and painfully uncomfortable), I joined in on the festivities and posted some Christmas photos online. A smile here; a smile there. I look perfectly engaged and pleased to be holding the booger picking mini-humans. Here are some of the ones I posted, and what I was really thinking:
The “Baby Crapping On Lap” Photo
What you see: I’m looking down at this bundle of joy. We are making eye contact. I put my finger in his hand, fascinated by how tiny his palms are. The wrinkles on his neck are endearing.
What I was really thinking: Okay, he has wrinkles, is that normal? What the hell was that? Did he just fart on me? OH GOD, he’s pooping his pants! What if it leaks out onto my skirt? *looks in his eyes, talking with mind* Please don’t poop on me. Someone take him, please someone take him!
The “All the Grandkids” Photo
What you see: Here I am, holding another kid. I’m smiling, this is so fun! Oh hey, hold still another minute? Oh sure, no problem! In fact, take all of the time you need, I’m perfectly content here on a couch full of ecstatic children.
What I was really thinking: Do what now? Hold him on my lap? Oh yeah … sure, I guess. Stop squirming now. Oh you pick your nose? Please don’t wipe it on me. Okay, now he’s trying to wipe it on me. Get off my lap!
The “All the Grandkids” Photo 2
What I was really thinking: Hold him again? Are you serious? He is trying to wipe his nose juice on me and you’re laughing! Why are you laughing? How is it even remotely funny? Okay, I’m gagging now. Oh god, I’m going to vomit.
The “Standing Around” Photo
What you see: I am drinking an adult beverage, overlooking the children on the couch. A smile; looking down at them with love and compassion.
What I was really thinking: Damn right I’m drinking; did you see that kids hands when he got done emptying his nostrils out?? I’m going to stand here for the rest of the night, casually refilling my drink as needed, hoping that you will not ask me to hold anyone again. The smile on my face? It’s actually a smirk toward the next child-holding victim saying “Better you than me, bitches.”
The “Sneaking to the Toilet” Photo
What I was really thinking: HIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I’ll get lucky & they’ll think I’ve had a bad reaction to the bean dip.
The “Yay, I’m Free!” Photo
What I was really thinking: Read above.
Now obviously, if anyone in my family (including the fine mothers of these fine children) is reading this — or any other mother out there, you know I love y’all. Hopefully. Maybe. Kids make the holiday’s magical; they still believe in Santa! I respect the crap out of most mama’s out there! I’m not evil or strange (okay, I am…), or trying to disrespect … I’m just not a fan of most humans, children included. I prefer a couple of cats and a cake.