To All My Friends Who Don't Have Children,
I love you, I promise I do, but please stretch your minds a little and try and think of what it's like to be in my position. No, I can't take a vacation for a week without my kids, just to hang out with you. I can't take a detour during a car trip an hour out of my way with screaming children just so we can sit in your not-safe-for-kids house so you don't have to get dressed and meet us at a diner.
I can't go out drinking on Ladies Night at your favorite bar, because my husband works the next morning, so I can't be hungover—I have children to care for.
Please don't call me on a weekend just to talk about how tired you are even though you slept in until 10. I've been up three times last night, and that qualifies as a good night. I also regularly wake up at six-thirty just so I can have a half an hour of peace.
Please don't complain that your house is messy—I understand your husband doesn't pick up his socks, but I just scraped dried poop off the side of the toilet and just finished a load of laundry that smelled like sour milk. I'm sorry you haven't dusted.
If you come over, realize I have young kids, so sitting with a cup of coffee and chatting isn't going to be possible. If you aren't interested in playing with them with me, don't come over. And please do not have the gumption to look grossed out when my two year old sneezes and gets snot on you. It's mucus, not poop.
Tired of Being the Only Adult in the Room
Dear Martyr Mom,
I love you, I really do. You and I go back many years but things have really changed since you had kids, and not for the better.
You used to be a devoted friend, a great listener who was always a shoulder to lean on - and I was that for you as well. But now our friendship seems to go one way because you no longer have the time, energy or attention span for our friendship. Your entire existence revolves around your child and if I bring up any other subjects, you aren't interested (or interesting). I am lucky if I can get a word in edgewise over your screaming child.
You no longer have one hour to spend with me, let alone time for any vacations or nights out on the town, so I don't bother inviting you to those kinds of things anymore. I know it's pointless. You've made it clear that you are chained to your child and your home for at least 18 years.
Please don't expect that because your life revolves around your child that mine should too. Of course I'm interested in your child and like to be kept up to date on all the latest, but endless details about every aspect of potty training, day care centers and play dates at the exclusion of discussion of anything else, makes for an unfulfilling friendship. Please don't assume that because you have a child, your life is the interesting one and mine isn't worth anything. Show at least as much interest in me as I show in you.
Don't assume that because I am childfree, I haven't a care in the world. I am a responsible, hard working adult with a household to maintain, bills to pay, and devoted relationships with my husband, family, friends and pets. Don't assume that my life is Club Med and that I'm always free, sleeping, shopping, on vacation or out at a bar.
Finally, dear friend, it needs to be said: nobody put a gun to your head and forced you to have a kid, so get off your high horse and stop playing martyr. You willingly chose to be a mom, so stop expecting others to pity you for it.
Tired of Moms Who Think the Whole
World Should Throw Them a Pity Party