Because we’ve all had just about enough of this “cut-out handprint-shaped-into-a-flower-I-wuv-you-mommy” crap.
Snapshot of my typical 5pm. Aaaannnnd commence vodka drinking ... now! |
The other day Jamie asked me what I wanted for Mother’s Day, and in my mind I went through all the standard ideas: Flowers. Chocolates. A personal masseur named Javier. Not having to tell my husband what I want for gifts. You know … the usual.
But they just didn’t seem right, or indicative of what I really desire (except Javier. He’s right on so many levels).
And then I realized something --- the reason I’m struggling with this decision is because what I really want, what would truly fill my soul are things that are impossible to buy. And no, I’m not talking about “world peace”. I’m talking about real, pressing, important matters that any mother would kill to have.
1. Our Asses Back.
I’m not sure what chemical reaction occurs during pregnancy that causes Ass Shape Transformation, but something’s flowing through our systems and it ain’t pretty. Once a woman’s had a baby, her ass is never the same.
“Mom Butt” comes in two very distinct shapes: The bubble, and the square. The bubble takes the form of a rapidly-inflating balloon that grows larger with each subsequent pregnancy. Adding more than just a little jiggle to your wiggle, it causes pants to stretch tightly at the seams, and ass-cheeks to perform startling impersonations of condors’ wings spreading and taking flight.
The square goes in the opposite direction – literally. Where once there was a pert little behind, now sits a sagging and misshapen derriere with the apparent M.O. of stretching to your knees before your next birthday. Flat, square, long and lumpy …. mmmm, mmmm! Just de way dem boys like ‘em!
2. Perky Breasts.
We’re not fussy at this point; we could care less what size they are, so long as they’re pointing to the horizon and not our toes. With all the appeal of tennis balls hanging in tube socks, what once was our most provocative feature has now become a symbol for all that’s limp and deflated in the world. Move over, National Geographic cover models! The sight of our ta-ta’s swinging side-to-side should have you running for cover! And when we lay on our backs … hoo boy! There’s nothing like the feel of your nipples nestling into your arm pits. Thank you, gravity!
3. A “Mom-Ergency Siren”.
Bear with me on this one. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have a siren you could put on your car whenever your kids started screaming/crying/fighting? This siren would signal to others that you had a “Mom-Ergency ™” (and yes, I’m trademarking that mofo), and that they need to clear the hell out of the way because one crazy beotch is comin’ through. Given how much Avery loves car rides, you know I’ve given this one a lot of thought.
The Mom-Ergency Siren could be used in other sticky predicaments, too. Does your recently-potty-trained toddler desperately need to use a public washroom with a huge lineup? Don’t stress about cleaning up poo-balls on the floor … use the Mom-Ergency Siren, and get those dawdling toilet-users the eff out before the accident happens! (And no. Don’t ask where I got the idea for that “example”).
4. A Universal Mute Button.
For toys, tvs and children, the Universal Mute Button is a must for today’s hearing-overloaded mom. Whether you’re in the kitchen and just-need-to-get-dinner-finished-for-the-love-of-god-shut-up, or its past bedtime and your kid’s using every stall tactic in the book, the UMB helps you obtain that inner peace and calm only formerly reached with some sweet-assed Mary Jane and a fifth of vodka. Ahhhhhhhhhh …. silence.
5. Our Dignity.
Last but certainly not least, our dignity. Every mother loses hers at some point, usually early-on in the parenting journey. Whether its buying Depends (size XL) in the final weeks of pregnancy or crapping on the table during labour, dignity is easy to lose and hard to replace. Once gone, there’s little a mother wouldn’t do if the need called: cupping their hands under a child’s mouth to catch vomit; using their finger to pick snot out of a baby’s nose; cleaning poo-balls off the floor of a public coffeeshop (don’t ask, I said!). So give us back our dignity. Please.
And there you have it ... five tips for Mother's Day, from my home to yours. I can't wait to see which one Jamie surprises me with this year. I'm in suspense, y'all!
What do you really want? Come on, be honest!
So true!
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