Attention internet: Everything I am about to say can’t and won’t be held against me in the court of blogs. Why? Because I’m about to say some shit.
There are 2 general rules of saying stuff and not saying stuff that most of society follows:
1) Don’t say bad stuff about babies and kids. For example : “Man, I wish that small child would trip on his dumb ass elmo shoes and fall on his face”.
2) Don’t say the bad stuff TO the child. For example :”Go trip on your dumb ass elmo shoes, small child, and fall on your face”.
I’m here to say that for the foreseeable future as a mother, I am not sure if I can rightfully abide by these societal rules. But, I don’t think #2 counts if you whisper it in their ear all creepy like.
So I’m at the playground with G today. And hold on to your Lululemon ladies, we went to the RICH PEOPLE playground. You know the one with 4 levels, a concierge and hot tub. That one.
I had never been there before but B tipped me off to it. So I went with G in my jeans and t-shirt. What B did not tell me was there was a straight up uniform requirement of flare black yoga pants, pink tops and aviators. I saw one mom in a Juicy Sweatsuit and she was SHUNNED. Poor thing never stood a chance.
So it’s like the first really warm day in Philadelphia in eons. Every child was there west of the Atlantic. And it wasn’t just regular kids. It was the dreaded “BIG KIDS”. We moms of toddlers say BIG KIDS like it’s a troupe of Nazis. “Oh we had to leave, there were BIG KIDS there”. “Yeah, I hid with my family and some rations under the floor boards because there were BIG KIDS coming”. You get it. But G was so excited so I was ready to take them on.
MODG VS BIG KIDS.
G is still such a little chunk. He’s pushing 30 lbs at 15 months and waddles like Frankenstein in a cloth diaper. It’s a mess and adorable. But he’s not fast and he will trip over his shadow. So I am still right next to him as he attempts to climb the 8 foot rock wall (I told you, rich people playground). All of the other kids are sans parents. I mean the parents are there, but they are on a bench talking to each other about Real Housewives of the Playground (moderately jealous). Regardless, it’s BIG KIDS, G and me.
That’s when it starts. The BIG KIDS swarm. It’s like they are a 70% blind and deaf species. They just GO. They don’t care who or what is in their way. They push and shove and fall and keep going. At one point a gaggle of them all went down a slide together, crushing another child who just wasn’t up to BIG KID standards. He was also in a sweater vest. I think his mom was the Juicy Sweatsuit (yeah).
But then THEN they catch G in their tunnel vision. Little G is playing nicely with the X’s and O’s that spin around. When out of no where BIG KID in pink pushes my SWEET ANGEL MONKEY BABY to the ground. This is so BIG KID can play. She also says MOVE.
I stop breathing. I clench my fists. Never in my life have I wanted to throw a child off of a 6 foot landing before. Never have I saw such a child as my mortal enemy put on this earth to create fiery evil and all that is bad.
But I don’t do anything. Obviously. I’m not a monster (like her). I pick up G and brush him off and we move on.
The rage is still burning in me. You should know that I actually happen to like kids more than most people. I was an elementary education major. Me and kids are cool. So this was a whole new sort of illegal feeling.
And as G played nicely somewhere else, BIG KID in pink tapped me on the shoulder. OH NO SHE DIDN’T. SHE’S GOING TO START WITH ME. OK I’M READY. I CAN TAKE HER. I MEAN, SHE’S 6. SHIT, BUT I STOPPED WORKING OUT. I MEAN…
“miss? do you know how to tie shoes?”
(…oh maaaaaaaaan. i’m an asshole from another planet.)
“Yes sweetheart, let me help you. ”
And off she went.
And I wondered what on earth is happening to me? She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t even know who Andy Cohen is yet. I’m an adult and I need to use my GD head. I also have to teach G how to not act a fool in his life.
Also one day G will be a BIG KID. And he’ll be an asshole to someone other than me. And I hope that mom will see G as just a kid who is learning to not be an asshole. Because that’s all that kids are. Mini assholes who are just learning to be regular. It’s hard work. I’m still working on it.
Then I hear it.
THAT LITTLE BOY JUST PUSHED G TO THE GROUND. I WILL MAKE HIM WISH THAT HE WAS NEVER BORN AND NEVER WORE A DAMN SHIRT WITH ELMO ON IT. PLEASE KID. TRY ME.
I’m going to get arrested in the next 10 years.
Is this just me? Do all moms hate other kids? Not hate I guess, loathe? Are we all giant assholes who stand no chance in teaching our kids to shed their asshole layer?
speak to me people. preferably before I’m in prison.