I want YOU, blog fans, to write to me about your lives. Specifically, I want to hear all the things you can't vent about on your own. Maybe your mother-in-law stalks your Facebook feed so you can't vent about her always leaving your toilet seat up. (What the hell?) Perhaps you have something to get off your chest about your husband who, after deciding it was totally kosher to leave the baby in the car while he ran into Goody Goody Liquor, has just been declared as child savvy as a fruit bat. Maybe you have something to confess about your own parenting and you just don't have another outlet. I'm serious. I want to provide that outlet. No questions asked. Here's the deal:
I was speaking to a super awesome mama friend of mine a while back, and throughout the course of our conversation it became quite clear to me that she had very few outlets through which to vent her motherly frustrations. Those in her inner circle might judge her for, say, having the nerve to not love every stinkin' minute of motherhood. She didn't dare bitch in a public forum (like Facebook) about her exhaustion (both mental and physical) because that would be too negative and wouldn't accurately portray how grateful she is for her family. She felt like she wasn't allowed to convey all the craziness that her job as a mama entails because she didn't have a safe place to unload all of it. My heart broke for her. (Jen has a heart?!) Seriously. I felt for her.
Mamas (and daddies) need an outlet. This job is tough stuff, my friends. If a waitress or a lawyer or a hooker or a garbageman is allowed to go home at the end of a tough day and complain about how crummy his shift was, why can't us parents do the same thing about our jobs? It's okay to complain. It's okay to vent. It's okay to piss and moan and bitch about how much this job can suck, and you know what? It doesn't mean you aren't good at it. It doesn't mean you don't love your kiddo. It means you are human, and this gig is taxing, to say the least. Shouldn't the most important job in the world also be the most challenging? And if so, shouldn't the most challenging thing you'll ever do in your life come with at least a few free passes to complain and let off steam?
I get wanting to be anonymous. I get putting on a brave face. I understand not wanting to be judged for feeling the way you feel about your life/ kids/ marriage/ etc. It isn't fair, but it's true. Your Facebook status is being judged. Someone at the park is dissecting every word you have to say about your little ones. Your play group/ library time/ music class/ baby palm reading group has at least one or two bums sitting there waiting for you to complain about your baby so they can pounce on your for being so ungrateful. So negative. So....whatever.
Not here, ladies and gents. I come here and vent at will. I say what I want with only a mild regard for what others might think (I am only human, after all.) You should be afforded to same opportunity. So send it to me. The good. The bad. The ugly. (Especially the Ugly.) I swear I will keep you anonymous. Whatever your vent/ gripe/ funny or sad story is to tell, I will tell it here. It will get it off your chest. It will prove cathartic. It will be hilarious for you to jump on a blog and see that story about that stupid thing your mother/ husband/ wife/ uncle/ babysitter did the other day and know that no one will ever connect it to you. But it's out there. And you feel better. And you have been granted your inalienable right to complain, like any good parent should. A Post Secret for parenting, if you will.
Send it to PeaceLoveAndSpiderSpray at Gmail dot com
Feel free to sign it, or remain anonymous. Send it from an account I recognize, or an account no one even knows you have. I will get your story out there (with my own fancy little Jen-like spin on it, of course.) I don't make a nickel off this blog (as of yet, anyway) so it's not like I gain anything from telling what you need told. I just know how important it is for a parent to have a good outlet. Some stories are too funny to keep to yourselves. Some burdens are just too heavy to bear alone. Sometimes you just need to let it all out.
Let me have it. I can handle it. Promise.
And...go!
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