To Parents with Well-Behaved Children: Sucks to Be You

It's easy to judge people without kids who judge people who do.  We've all heard non-parents complain about our crazy-ass kids and our crappy parenting skills. It's easy to write them off as douchebags, because what do they know about raising kids? There is no way the 24-year-old pharm rep in the 25-inch-waist jeans has pushed a nine pound baby out of her vagina, so why is she giving me the evil eye? What if there HAD been a fire in the elevator? She would have been thanking my kid for pressing the button.  Easy target!

Today, I'd like to judge a different group of people. People WITH kids who always seem to be well-behaved, who enjoy judging parents with kids who behave badly, who are usually doing one of the following:

a) Screaming

b) Throwing shit

c) Breaking shit

d) Throwing and breaking shit

e) Eating other people's food while throwing and breaking shit.

Basically, I'd like to judge the moms who always seem to be judging me and my kids. You know what I'm talking about.

The moms who watch us in horror at dance class. While my five-year-old is gyrating inappropriately to Kidz Bop on the dance floor, my two-year-old is thrashing about and screaming Exorcist-style. (She's pissed I didn't let her drink breastmilk from another baby's bottle and do somersaults in the middle of Marley's dance class. Now she's punching me in the head with a juicebox.) I'm talking about you. 

The moms who stare at us in shock when Holland chomps into my arm at school pick up because I didn't let her run into the school office and rummage through the trash. I'm talking about you.

The mom with the perfect ponytail with her perfectly-styled daughter who watched Holland grab a head of lettuce at Boneys, take a bite out of it, then launch it into the citrus section yelling, "weeee!" I'm talking about you. 

What, this is not normal behavior? Princess Fucking Junior never gave you this trouble? That's right, run away mommy. Don't expose your daughter to our trainwreck. But guess what? You'll miss seeing Holland grab a handful of chocolate-covered pretzels out of the bins, jam them in her mouth, then knock over a basket of butternut squash. Come on, you can't pay for entertainment like this!

Your perfect little angel never did this kind of shit? He doesn't need to be coaxed into the carseat with a Thomas the Train sticker every fucking time you get into the car or he has a meltdown? Your kid doesn't run out of storytime at the library at lightening speed, hijack another kids stroller and crash it into the coffee cart? 

Your kid doesn't enjoy launching her $12 Munchie Mug at cars while riding in the bike trailer? She doesn't unbuckle herself, stand up, and ride chariot-style down the streets of Coronado while other drivers honk in horror, warning you of the iminent risk of trauma-induced coma?

Well that's great your kid is perfect. Please, indulge me with your cold stares. Shower me with your judgement. But you know what? It's not my fault my kid is more challenging than yours. It doesn't make me a worse parent or you a better one. Some kids are just harder.

And don't feel sorry for me either. At least my kid isn't boring. While your kid is sitting in a corner, silently reading a book and brushing up on his literacy skills, my kid is eating a puzzle or locking herself in a car. While your kid is building a stupid tower, my kid is dismantling the DVD player or trying to vacuum the dog. 

Your kid likes to play princess? My kid will take a bite out of your perfect dessert display and shove Ariel cupcake toppers down her diaper before you can say "Happy Birthday." Your kid rides a balance bike? My kid repels into storm drains. While your kid is potty training, my kid is washing her hands in the toilet after her sister pees in it. 

The days when Holland doesn't make me cry, she makes me laugh. Sure, sometimes the laughing part doesn't happen until I am very drunk, but it still counts.

So don't feel sorry for me, or give me one of those "Holy shit your kid is CRAZY" looks. Because the days when my kid IS perfect--when she doesn't put my iPhone in the clothes dryer or smear toothpaste all over the doorknob, when she actually colors with the markers instead of drawing on her face Braveheart-style, when she's not knocking out one of her teeth--well, those days are far more rewarding to me than they are to you. They are beautiful and awe-inspiring and are worthy of colossal celebration. Since your kid is so perfect you miss out on these moments. Sucks to be you.