A Letter to Moms who keep writing Letters to Other Moms

Dear Moms

I see you sitting there at your laptop wondering what you could write about that has the highest chance of getting your Mommyblog to go viral via Shared Facebook posts. I see you wracking your overtired brain as you think about everything that's been done before in an attempt to put forth something original into the universe. I see you. And I know. I get it. Its hard coming up with things to talk about in regards to parenting and being a mom that haven't already been discussed a million different times in a million different ways. I know. I know. Its ok. Did I say I know already? I know.

But before you decide to write another Letter, to another Mom, that you Saw in a Target, that for the 45 seconds you looked at her seemed frazzled or overwhelmed or pissed off, or exhausted, I just want to tell you a few things:

Mama:

Its ok. The woman you are glimpsing for one brief moment in both of your many moment filled lives doesn't need your internet letter. She just doesn't. The what I can only assume was a pity filled looked that you threw in her general direction as you strolled by with your shit seemingly together doesnt equate to any version of actual real world helpfulness or empathy. The fact that you didn't in that moment give her a knowing look and say something like "what the hell were we thinking, right?" but instead decided to wait to tell her that You Get It via an anonymous internet letter speaks volumes.

I see you getting rageful after that last paragraph Mama, and I get it. You feel I am being unfair, and that you really did want your Letter to come from a place of genuine niceness and understanding. I accept that. I do not think the majority of you are soulless, hate filled cuntboxes. I get that you thought you were doing something nice. I forgive you that.

But Mama, there's something you need to understand. When you write your Letters and every sentence begins with "I", it makes it abundantly clear that the Letter is in fact about "You". Your Letters make it sound like yes, you may have once been like that Other Mom, adrift in a sea of parenting chaos and  calamity, but that you have ascended into the Higher Levels of parenting where every tantrum, every wayward tear, every snot filled scream fit in the middle of the grocery store is met with a Buddha like state of calm wherein you have the power to stem the flow with nothing more than a loving glance, and suddenly shit is perfect like in those Jimmy Johns Commercials.

And Mama, that kind of advice/help/commentary isn't in fact helpful. Its annoying. Presuming that every other parent in existence feels the exact same way that you do is a sad and limited way to look at the world. So when I read one of your Letters, and it tells me that "You Get It because my new joy is no longer in taking a long shower and getting dressed up, but in food stained sweatpants and messy buns", I want to reach through my computer and strangle you. You don't tell me what my joy is. If that's your new joy after becoming a parent, awesome. I will never not feel joy and extreme amounts of it when I get to take a 20 min scalding hot shower without any distractions. That shit is my jam. I wish I could eat and sleep in there. Like Kramer did that once time. Fuck.

Also, Dear Mamas, why don't you ever write any letters to Dads? When you see them struggling with kids in public why does that evoke feelings of love and sexiness instead of the self righteous pity the lady with the vagina gets? Listen: We all have bad days in the big wide world of being a parent. Sometimes those days happen when we are in view of other people. But that's the thing--its just one day. In fact, its just one moment in one day. That mom could have been laughing lovingly at a joke her 4 year old said 5 seconds before you came around the corner and saw her with that haggard look on her face. She could be stressed to the max in the store or at the park, but the second she gets home, she snuggles up on the couch with her kids to watch Curious Georges Halloween Boofest for the 5 millionth time, and in that moment, she is really happy. Like beyond blissed out happy, filled with love for the tiny beings clutching her shirt in their tiny fists. You don't see that though. All you see is a brief glimpse into what is the wonderful, horrible, crazy, amazing thing that this woman calls her life.

So stop acting like you Get It or Know. You don't. None of us do really. We are all just trying the best we can with the skills we have. And this incessant string of Dear Mama Letters is as meaningful and real as a Saran wrapped ball of air. You are Gisele Bunchening us all and we cant take anymore. She doesn't need any more help in that regard. She has the whole I'm Better Than You Parenting Game on lock. Because no matter what you say in your Dear Mama Letter, you will never ever be able to top Gisele's Instagram posts. So do us all a favor and hang it up. Ill leave you with some actual Gisele posts to help you see why we need a lot less Bunchening in the world of parenting and a lot more genuine empathy and keeping it real.

Love,

Maria

I see you there Out of Shape Mama trying to do quick 15 second Planks on your living room floor without being impaled by Legos or jumped on by your "enegertic" toddler. This is me enjoying some Relaxing Baby Yoga near antique furniture on white carpeting with perfect natural lighting and a healthy fruits platter for post workout boost though, so Im not really sure I understand why its so difficult for you to get back in shape post baby ?

Hey Mama in line at the store holding that box of formula. I'm just lounging here calmly breast feeding my LO while my team of stylists makes my already flawless post- baby hair and body ready for an intense day of Baby Yoga. Waiting in lines seems like it would be such a drag !

Hi There Mama whose kid just threw a box of Triscuits at the old man walking behind you at Target. I get that it must be hard having kids that don't just naturally evoke genuine smiles of kindness and love in the revered elderly like the Dalai Lama, but have you tried not saying No so much? That might work better for you and would be sooo much better for your LOs! Just a thought.

Dear Mama pleading with her 15 month old to stop trying to eat wood chips and the cat feces buried under the wood chips at the park: This is me and my tiny baby doing more B.Y. by a babbling brook. I know it seems crazy, but I'm totally able to reach that calming mental state that I need to achieve the most difficult of poses without worrying that my infant is going to get distracted and fall into that stream. Shes takes B.Y. very seriously since meeting the Dalai Lama. Namaste! 

I Believe in you. You can do it. Namaste.