But I AM a judger.
As such, I feel like I can tell you all what you are doing wrong as parents. Why, I am just FULL of good advice - never having done it and all - but I HAVE seen a LOT of kids (too many frankly) and on my 18 hour return flight to Khartoum I realized that I should probably share it with you. Now I realize that many of you may be lamenting that I had 18 hours to think about shit. However, don't blame me...Blame United Airlines - they had a REALLY shitty selection of movies this month. SO shitty, that I ended up watching the Hannah Montana Movie and now you all are going to pay for it....
That's just how I roll.
Now, I'm sure you all will wish to thank me for this wonderful, insightful, and uplifting advice; however, please read through to the end before you start thanking me. Now, to start off - I think I should point out that there may actually be some confusion out there that should probably be cleared up first off:
YOUR KID IS NOT THAT ADORABLE!
Seriously, you might be the only one that thinks that...it is important to figure this out first. Because the degree to which your kid is totally annoying will determine the degree of dirty looks you will get from me. Granted, many of them ARE cute and do some funny, funny things (most of which, only I think is funny and you think are humiliating and/or expensive, but it IS entertaining for me); however, unless you're my niece or nephew I DO NOT want your child to come up to our table at a restaurant and start what they believe to adorable chit chat. (Hint: it's not)
"YES, that IS our bread. Now get the hell away from me you snotty nose! Your boogers are making me want to vomit." (example of MY adorable chit chat in return)
WTF bad parents?!!? I'm not your babysitter!! At the very least, little Phineas' mom (PHINEAS??) owes me $9 for my breakfast because she sure didn't get up off of her ass to retrive her kid, nor, apparently, did she bother to get him a damn kleenex.
Write this down: I DO NOT WANT TO BLOW YOUR KIDS' NOSE AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. That is really, really gross. I don't even like blowing my own nose, frankly (and I have allergies, I know what I am talking about here.) It's not that difficult of a concept: if your kid cannot sit through a meal, and you're not going to gut up off of your ass to make them sit at the table, then DO NOT BRING THEM to a restaurant.
You see, parenting is not really that difficult. Much like dog training, you should simply reward good behavior, but you STILL have to address bad behavior immediately. Petsmart has some really good books in this regard if you feel you need further clarification.
Further....(oh, I'm not done with this particular rant...not by a LONG shot) WHY does the whole family have to go with you to the grocery store?! WHY? If there are two parents - you should simply do the ole rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go to the store alone (OR, if you feel this way, who has to stay home with the kids) and ONE of you go. Now I probably would actually still mind if you brought your four kids with you to store even if they WERE well behaved (because it frankly clogs up the aisles). Therefore, it is even worse when you have kids that start to throw a temper tantrum in the store. TAKE THEM OUTSIDE.
Seriously. Nobody wants to hear that shit.
I recall one time my mother brought me to the grocery store with her. My sister and I knew that we DID NOT ask for shit in the store because that guaranteed that you would not get it. However, I think I figured it was near a birthday or holiday or something, so I went out on a limb and asked for some Cocoa Puffs or Cookie Crisp (that shit was GOOD) instead of stupid Corn Flakes (gag). My mother looked at me like I had asked her to stab the lady with the other cart (we weren't allowed sugared cereals - probably a large part of why I am now obsessed with Little Debbie and all things Hostess). She said, "NO!" and continued down the aisle toward the Corn Flakes.
"Can I get some Honey Nut Cheerios then?"
"NO! You know the rules!"
"BUT MOOOOOOOM! WHHYYYYYYYYYY??? WHYYYYYY NOT!?!?"
My voice had risen to a wailing whine. The lady who narrowly escaped being asked to be stabbed was staring, as was the guy stocking the Crunch Berries -- You know, I really loved that Captain Crunch! Those nautical men sure do know their cereals. Except when he brought out that peanut butter shit. WTF was that!? Gag -- ANYWAY, my mother picked up her purse, swatted me on the butt, grabbed my arm mid-whine, abandoned the cart and drove me home.
I didn't even need to ask why or what was going on because I KNEW. With the exception of the lists on the fridge every Saturday morning where my parents pretty much turned into white slavers -- I mean WHO the hell asks their kids to get a bucket of hot soapy water and wipe down the baseboards and the blinds!? WTF!? -- I had great parents. We had rules and we had to follow them. We knew what was allowed and we knew when we (well, when MEL) was breaking them. I was a saint. Mel was the one who broke all the rules. (She doesn't read this blog ... HA!)
Anyway, my point is - and I do have one - the key to child rearing is this: Do not have them. They cannot be trusted. The minute you turn your back, they're into shit.
Then they become teens and God Help you.
Well, I certainly hope this post was helpful to you. Please, just let me know if I can be of any further assistance. Best regards.
Sometimes? I'm Judgmental. Also, Seattle!
13 hours ago