If someone two years ago was to say to me “You should feed your child this….” or “You should do this instead of that”… I would have looked them in the face and said “Shut the fuck up!”. Not explained myself, not give an example as to why I did this, or said that. I wouldn’t care their opinion, what they said about my parenting, etc. Why? Because I honestly didn’t give two shits. My daughter was perfect in my eyes. That’s all that mattered. Now… For the past year, that has changed, and I hate it… So, because there is so much I should have said but haven’t… Here it goes:
My daughters are mine. The only people who get a say in what they eat, how they behave, their disciple, their attitudes, their schooling, their growth, etc… are myself and the man who helped make them!
Just because my daughter pukes a little after being burped, doesn’t mean she needs formula. Doesn’t mean there is an issue with her breastfeeding, doesn’t mean she has a lip tie, tongue tie, or whatever story you heard that happened with your sisters, daughters, ex’s, best friends aunt.
Just because I lay her down before she’s fully asleep, but not awake, doesn’t mean I’m sleep training, or neglecting her. It means I know she’s tired, and if I lay her down at that particular moment, I know she won’t cry, whine, or fuss. She will go to sleep.
Just because I co-sleep, doesn’t mean she’s going to die! We’ve done it for two months now. I don’t CARE what you think or that again, your sisters daughters boyfriends moms third cousin happened to tell you she heard about.
Not everything on the internet is true. Stop tagging me in the stupid hippy shit.
Listen to what I’m about to put out there – I WILL NEVER BE THE ORGANIC HOMEMADE FOOD ONLY NO PRESERVATIVES TYPE OF MOM. They want a fucking cookie, they get the fucking cookie! Why? because it’s not worth the battle of no!
I don’t care about your opinion if I’m being a poor spouse and not meeting his needs sexually. He is a GROWN ASS MAN. If he can’t understand I just had a baby 2 months ago, and I am not feeling good about myself in order to do anything in that way, than maybe he isn’t the man I want to be with. If he is THAT selfish, than shame on him. He gets what he gets when I’m feeling ok. It’s not a forever thing, it’s a just right now thing. and it’s REALLY not something I want to discuss with anyone except him.
I don’t care if you’re mad at me for posting this. It’s not about you, or him, or her, or it, or shit. It’s about me, my children, my family. I’m selfish. Deal with it, or get gone.
I. Am. Not. Sponging. Portuguese. Mom…. I’m a mom. It’s not stereotypical to want to be a mom, to protect her kids, to want a certain lifestyle or certain things in life. It is NORMAL. Not just one culture. Not to mention I’m IRISH AND BRITISH, which are ALSO very FAMILY ORIENTED cultures. My oldest is ITALIAN Dutch – ALSO family oriented. Being with a Portuguese CANADIAN IRISH Man…. doesn’t mean shit all to me. Just means that is what culture he was raised in primarily based on his parents choices. These are MY choices for MY daughters…. HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING ELSE!
I hate that people presume the way one family is, is how all families of that culture are…. NO. Welcome to Canada. Mix diversity. Mix Cultures. Mix way to raising and being a family.
My family unit are my children and my spouse. My dog gets more say in what happens in my house than you do, so do the world a favour and keep your close minded opinion to yourself.
You’ve gotten fat…. Dress to the body you have, not the body you wish you had. Don’t feel bad because you’ve put on weight. You look good! Do not lie to me and tell me those size 3 jeans that fit you last year are still comfortable, the rolls over the ends scream “I’m Lying! I’m dying!”.
I had a baby. I do not have a summer body, by the time my summer body is back, she will be walking, talking and screaming “I WANT ICE CREAM”. This mama DOES NOT CARE if I need a one piece bathing suit. This mama DOES NOT CARE if you rather me in a two piece, or you think my muffin top is cute, and for the love of all that is Holy… DO NOT call my “chub” cute or adorable, or that it suits me…. I will stab you. With a plastic Spork!
I’m a size 4-6. Depending on the store I shop at. I am not an 8, or a 0. Stop comparing our bodies. This is mine. That is yours.
My dog is not your issue. She goes to her bed when told, she sits, lays down, stands, goes away, eats… when told. By her OWNERS. Not you. You do not get to come into my house and tell my dog to get lost, or fuck off, or call her names. She can hear you. She doesn’t need to listen to you, she knows this. She will not jump on you, she will love your legs. She will not bite you, unless you are a threat to her people… I am her people. My spouse is her people. Our daughters are her people. You are not her people. She will not protect you.
Do not poke my children. Do not insult them and think you are funny. Do not encourage them to be rude, mean, or “funny”. and then do not complain because their comebacks and insults are better than yours. You started it. You deal with what comes out of their mouths! They are raised to be polite, well-mannered and behaved, but they are also raised to stand up for themselves and not take anyones shit…. So how you address them and treat them, is how they will do in return, and No I will not defend you when they do so.
Do not try to talk my spouse and I apart. Do not share your opinion on our relationship. Our issues, as few and far in between as they are, are ours! WE deal with them how and when we feel fit.
Here’s a little fun fact – If my daughter had a lip tie, tongue tie, etc. She would have difficulty latching onto a boob. Because she latches onto the boob with ZERO issues, means it is NOT the reason why she wont take a bottle…. And no. If I put formula in the bottle, She wont want the bottle any more. The fact she wouldn’t take a bottle, has ZERO effect on me. If I have to cancel going away for a weekend, or going to a wedding… I’ll do that. PS. She took a bottle, without issues, I just had to find the right one, and the right time to do so.
Just because she takes a bottle now, DO NOT MEAN she will take a bottle all the time. She is still a breastfed baby. She will get ONE bottle a day, and when I find time to put it into her daily schedule. It will be MY choice. Not yours. Not my spouses (and only not his because he’s not home every day. He works. I’m home 24/7 with baby. The schedule is based on ME and HER… not anyone or anything else). So NO do not suggest I give her a bottle instead of boob while in your home; in the mall; in a restaurant; at the park; etc. Because when and what I give her you don’t get to decide. and I do not seriously give a flying rats ass if it makes you more comfortable if I give her a bottle. Don’t want me to BF in your house, we wont come over.
MY daughter. HIS daughter. NOT YOURS! Stop saying she’s yours. She isn’t. Did you participate in the making of her? NO! So fuck off. Stop telling people she’s yours. You have nothing to do with her beyond the extent that WE allow to you. Want a baby? Go make your own. Leave mine alone.
*I wish I said this more* I love my partner. I love that he makes me laugh when I’m madder than hell, I love that he embarrasses me when out in public, I love that he doesn’t care what he looks like when he’s playing with her daughters, I love that he doesn’t discourage me when breastfeeding or co-sleeping. I love that he doesn’t shove his opinion down my throat – he shares it with me, and I consider it and go from there. I love that we get mad, we fight, we move on… The fact he fights with me at all means he cares… if he just shoved everything under the rug, or ignored it all, he wouldn’t care to really be with me. I love the fact he irritates me, infuriates me, and questions me… I love that he challenges me. I don’t love that he insults my speech issues, but I love that he notices them… means he’s listening. I love that he has accepted my life into his. I love that we road rage together, and we mock Peoples outfits together. I love that we want the same things in life, and want to do it together. I love that he’s hot and I’m cold. I love that he will deal with the heat, if it means I wont freeze in the cold. I love him. All that he is. All that he was. And all that he will be.
*I wish I said this more* I love my daughters. The unique individuals that they are. Their own personalities. Their stubbornness. Their laughs, smiles, and giggles. Their imaginations and their freedoms. I am proud of who they are and what they will become…whatever that may be. I love K’s passion. I love her belief and that she’s a good heart-ed person. I love that she is social and outgoing. She makes me proud to be her mom. I love A’s growing constantly. Her smiles and giggles. The way she looks at her daddy and myself. I love that she is wondrous with her eyes wherever we may be and go. I love my girls with all my heart and then more.
Some will read this and go “Wow” others will laugh and go “Why didn’t she say that”. Some will be pissed off and others will not care. I will laugh at the ones who say “Oh that’s about me” when its nothing to do with them at all. Take it as you will. Do with it as you please.
It’s just an opinion, a thought that’s run through my head. It doesn’t make me any better, or any worse. Just know, I haven’t said it out loud for a reason….