I happened across an article the other day that really blew me away, mostly because it got published. It was a mother’s musings on this incredible epiphany she had and is now at complete and utter peace raising her ONE child. First, she was stoned, but let’s not nitpick.
“After I had my child, I was so overwhelmed I had to seek out a spiritual counselor.” Okay, this is where I had to continue because I am already howling. She continues, “It was soooooo hard and overwhelming. I was at wits end. After my first session, I was finally able to breathe! (read toke.) My “master” told me my only job was to love them. “
Now, this mother fucker gets paid to say this shit?
“But I said, well of course I do, but I am simply falling apart.” He tells her “You must let go.” (Read, take another hit off this incredible weed.)
“I immediately started to feel better, just sitting there.” Oh, I’m sure you did.
“He gave me the best advice I would now like to share with all you other moms. Guess what, it’s not that hard. We just need to give them SPACE and PRIVACY. Thank god I don’t have to do anything anymore!! Right ladies? Just let them be who they are.” Wow, why didn’t I think of that? Who the hell else are they going to be?
Now I am getting kind of pissed. Who is this spiritual master? Oh, spending his fortune after wallet raping these clueless women.
For the record my kids have so much space and privacy I rarely know where they are. In fact, I think they got an apartment. They are 7 and very resourceful. One of the twins doesn’t like me at all and tells me all the time, so it works out well. Her sister, on the other hand, adores me, and I believe this is because we are so alike. She is a free spirit; respects my privacy, and I hers. She has “secret” diaries all over the house but I would not have known had she not told me. Nor do I actually care. I think it’s great. Her sister doesn’t keep diaries because she doesn’t want anyone, (me) knowing her thoughts, even though she freely speaks her mind.
I spread my love all over the house like cleaning fluid; the hands and knees approach. Recently, the twin that wants to stomp on my grave recently told me she was allergic to my existence. “Daddy is just better, mom. Plus I hate your voice and when you dance it freaks me out.”
“Well, next time I take you to the beach, I won’t give you the sunscreen!” She then took my best face crème and threw it in the trash. “Your skin is so blotchy nothing will ever help it!” I always give her a hug when we have these little spats even those she turns into a wire hanger.
Back to the article. “So I learned from my master to no longer pressure my kids. Force them to do things they don’t want. Do they really need to be perfect equestrians? Will this fix my children? Do you love you?”
Clearly she has by now smoked the entire joint. “Where are you on the vibration scale? My son loves to shimmy, wear my make-up, my panties. He loves putting on my stockings!! He has been doing this since he was 3, so I thought the old me would force him back up on that horse!!! Oh, I had a good laugh. He just loves imitating mommy!!! I finally accessed my entire love space!!!!! (I could tell by her increasing use of explanation points she was totally fried.)
“For example (here I thought she might mention he may be gay or expand on that or acceptance or something worth reading, but no) I took my other son, who is 15, apple picking. He asked me, “mommy, why do some apples come off the tree and some stay?”
He was 15! Now I am thinking this crazy bitch home schooled.
Her response, “Well, I realized I could not answer this question.” Are you fucking kidding me? “So I remembered what the master had taught me. If you could see me right now readers, well, I’m just giggling with amusement.” Okay, so she is smoking a very large bong.
“Honey puss, why do you think they are stuck on the tree?” Then I squeezed my boobs, a reflex of some kind, but he didn’t seem to mind. Oh my god, is she still breast feeding?
“I thought he might say, maybe it hurts, like in the Wizard of Oz.”
“I’m thinking the juicier and ripe the apple, the more ready they are to fall.” Okay, to his credit, the kid had in fact read a book. She goes on,
“This completely floored me! He knew the answer and I did not.” Maybe because you are a dumbass who should not have had children, but by all means have another hit.
Here is where I had to stop reading. My own children surpassed me at 3. I have 3 kids, so it made sense. I have always let them find their own way; have never pressured them. Who has the time?
What will be interesting for Ms.Bliss is when apple boy goes to college. I can already see it.
Bliss mom is talking to the president of a private college; let’s say where he was accepted. But the cost is so great, she needs more aid. The grant notion for him seems sketchy.
Her: “I have filled my son with such love; on the highest vibration known to man. I love me. I have let him find his way. I listen to him when he picks apples and allow my younger one to wear my panties. Surely, we can work together with love, to find more aid.”
I can tell you from experience, this will never happen and the president will politely shake her hand and recommend a community college.
The tactic I used when needing a higher grant (yes, my son earned quite a few, despite my having no love vibrations) is this: “Mr. President or whatever the fuck your name is. We all know he is smart, blitzed the SAT, got your highest grant you can offer, but I know there is more. I know it’s all a big scam, these private colleges… so let me say, I am a very, very dirty girl. My son’s education is of utmost importance. Have you ever been whipped?”
So we all have our ways of raising kids, but I think in the end, what we all agree on is this, sure it’s hard, sure we love our kids, but they come out of the shoot as short people and the best we can do is give them an environment specific to said child. I have never consulted a guru, spiritual teacher, doula, homeless person or Rabbi. Instead I call my mom.
“Oh, I had six kids and they were all on their own by 10. I might add that I drank, smoked and we didn’t wear seat belts. You’re kids are amazing. They clearly all inherited my talent and wisdom. Poets, writers, artists… and you did nothing. By the way, one of your sisters is missing. Again. I need to find her as she owes me money. You do have great sleuthing skills like your asshole father, so could you track her down for me? Thanks, honey.”