I tampered here and there with writing when I was young. A few times some short stories, but most of my successes and what I shared mostly with the people I loved were poems. As I got older I always had a passion for writing, and my passion for reading continued. Every time I put down a good book, a fire in the pit of my stomach would ignite and I would obsess in bed at night about writing a book. I’d share these thoughts with my husband, who’d laugh a little at me, “support me” but really didn’t think much of it. Honestly I can’t blame him; he hasn’t seen me do much artistic in our relationship other than push my large son’s head out of my tiny vagina.
I’d post my thoughts about writing a book on facebook with my friends, which I’d gain my “yay go for it” remarks that I’d look for. But really my friends are laughing at me behind my back knowing it’d be a shot in the dark that I’d be the next NY times best seller.
The real thing that has always prevented me from writing was focusing my neurotic crazy ideas I have running through my head down into one idea. What should I pick? I can’t have them all. I tried so many times to do it, but it just didn’t seem natural. I grew up reading science fiction and fantasy books. The furthest from reality it was, the more I loved it. I am nuts and I had so many ideas flowing through my head I couldn’t just pick one. So I just didn’t pick. I kept going through the same cycle over and over again, I’d read an amazing book, and have an itch to want to write. Yeah, neurotic right? This crazy pattern continued for over 18 years.
Over these years my life changed, but I kept on reading, and kept on wanting to write. I lived all over the place; I spent 10 years ion the west coast. This is where I met the core group of my friends, and ultimately my husband. I got married, had a baby, and eventually moved to the east coast.
On one of my recent trips to visit a dear friend, Hailey and her husband Carter - who in a few words is a pain in the ass to most he interacts with, I had a aha moment.
During this trip, my son who was 2.5 at the time, who is incredibly smart, intelligent, and mouthy, was pushing my patience. Terrible twos, multiplied by seeking independence, divided by lack of sleep, squared root of 3 hour time change, equaled a disaster waiting to happen.
Needless to say our first day on our trip was hellion day for my son and me. A hard enough day as it was, my friend’s husband, Carter, added to the fire. They have a child of their own, but younger than mine, and it’s their first. With the roll of Carter’s eyes, the sighs in his breath, the muttered comments and the body language Carter exhibited toward me and my son, inflated the situation and at the same time gave me my first idea for writing.
So many people think they know what to expect when parenting or they think it’s this hippy shit, when it’s really not. I remember experiencing that with pregnancy. So when I was experiencing the terrible twos with my son, and being “judged” for his behavior from a guy who, in not so long, will be going through the exact same shit, ignited that fire inside me. To explain to people, what to expect really. The honest truth, all bullshit and sugar coating aside, when it comes to parenting or other issues.
What I really wanted to say to Carter was, “Don’t worry, this will actually be you soon, but probably worse, because Karma’s a bitch”. But I decided to let it lie and let him learn for himself that actually my son’s behavior was a toddler issue and not a parenting issue. Ignorance, at the time, is bliss. It’s when you’re blinded sided that pisses you off. Its why so many of us count on each other to share our stories and our experiences with each other. So in the end, we don’t end up like him, an ignorant ass who thinks he’s invincible and that it’ll never happen to them.
When this idea came to me, I started thinking about all the stuff me and my best friend, Stella, whom I’ve known for a very long time, joke about a lot as parents. We both love being a parent, but some things never change, no matter the kid. You see posts and tags running around online, but in reality a lot of what you see online is true. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a parent, but I also love being prepared. I learn a lot from Stella, I’m not sure I ever told her I do, but I do. I’m honest with all my friends and family too when it comes to everything kid related, someone has to be. Parenting is not all puppies, sunshine and butterflies and this is the point of what I’m writing.
There’s all these books out there about “What to expect” when you’re pregnant or “What to expect” the first year. They’re all great, but they’re all full of doctor facts and crap. Here’s what to really expect, THE TRUTH and the UGLY!
Before reading this, and before I get attacked for not sounding like I like kids, let me correct you. I love being a mom, I love my son to death and would love to have more kids (some days). But what I don’t appreciate is fake mothers who glorify motherhood constantly. What I want to say is probably what a lot of women are feeling or thinking but won’t for the mere fact of being prosecuted for feeling that way. In summary, you can be a great mom and still feel frustrated, tired, exhausted and feel like everything you’re experiencing has to be a fucking joke.
So pretty much If you offend easily, stop reading now, screw off. If you read on, read on at your own risk.
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