So, I have some autoplay video ad pop up every once in awhile and I’m not entirely sure where it’s coming from. Sorry about that, I’d fix it but then nothing would come up because when I go in my backend things get messy. (See also: Backend jokes will never cease to be funny.)
I was told tonight I need to “Get Help.” in order to “spare my daughter the vicious cycle I am in.” Which is, um, raising her? I guess? You see, I wrote an article about why I put ‘no gifts please’ on Addie’s birthday invitations. I was still kind of in the throes of pneumonia so everything I wrote during that time was kind of grumpy and pessemistic, maybe even a slight bit snarky? (True story, my editor had to have me to make an article a little more ‘perky’ because I sounded like the harbinger of doom in the written word. Oops.) Anyway, when I wrote it I told Facebook I *knew* I was going to get a good solid reaming on it, because Babble. But facebook , oh Facebook, being comprised of people who know me and consider me a friend said nice supportive things like “I think it’s great! You’ll be fine!” Then the random Internet commenters HAD! THEIR! DAY! *pitchforks! RAAAR!*
There were supportive comments , but the mean ones were really mean. What bothers me is the people who have no problem calling me a name from behind a screen are probably also raising people — and kids learn a lot from their parents behavior. Three years ago I would have begged everyone who disagreed with me to “Give me a chance! I THINK YOU’D LIKE ME!” but now? Clearly those people don’t know me, at all. Despite the fact I feel terribly inadequate as a parent — I’m doing okay. My kid is well adjusted and if she ends up using drugs and making bad life choices because I asked that her friends come to her birthday party simply to enjoy hanging out and not stress about bringing gifts? Then so be it, I’ll take those therapy bills when they come.
Please, if you disagree with me TOTALLY FINE, but I don’t think you need to call me names or tell me I’m denying my child her childhood simply because she doesn’t need more stuff and most families these days don’t need to be spending more money on other peoples’ kids. I took Addie to see Frozen on Friday and she clapped like a seal and kept her hands clasped right underneath her chin the entire time, which is exactly what I do when I see something I love. We traipsed through a magical forest yesterday and cut down the most perfect Christmas tree ever then danced around like fools to hipster Christmas music as we decorated the tree and put some form of snowman on every flat surface in the house.
She is not being denied the magic of childhood, but you’d never know that if you based your assumptions of me off of the 100 comments from people who do not like me much at all because of one thing. Up until the ‘vicious cycle’ comment my favorite one said “You sure do write about you a lot in your post.” Which would be funny if it was sarcastic, but *whispers* I don’t think it was.
Oh kid, when you read this someday I hope it is deep within your bones how much I love being your mom and how proud I am of you for being exactly who you are and constantly blowing me away with your ever-developing personality that teems with kindness and empathy. I mean, this parenting gig is no joke, but if I can take even one smidge of credit for how spectacular you are? Then I really did do something right.
(So I just read through this again, and I still sound pneumonia grumpy. I just wanted to say something like “I LIKE ME ENOUGH TO NOT BE BOTHERED BY MEAN STRANGERS!” “Don’t let one (or 100) stranger’s opinions of you ruin who you know yourself to be!” and “If you disagree with someone either keep quiet or be civil about it, is that too much to ask society?” But clearly you already know all of that because you’re here and you’re all really nice people. I have the emails to prove it. So sorry about that, I have a feeling the pneumogrumps with fade once this fractured rib heals, because OW.)