Bossy Parents and Schools: The Real Reasons We Re-Elected a Congress We Hate

That happened, as you probably know. Congress had 10% approval rating and a 91% re-election rate. The f*ck?

Most seem to boil the issue down to partisanship and voter ignorance, which seems more or less as obvious as my love for burritos.

There's pretty much no denying that we Americans "don't understand" the "enormously complex and vastly distant government". So the parties use ordinary marketing methods because that sh*t works. YOU HAVE A NICE SMILE. YOUR SLOGAN IS TRUTH. Catch phrases, oversimplification, blar blar blar.

All true. I see the sh*t that people who I wouldn't otherwise suspect of being total jack wagons share on Facebook. The memes. TEA PARTY because CONSERVATIVE. How convincing. Sign me up. (Not YOU, though. The memes you share are deep. Really.)

Yes. I see how easily manipulated voters are. Er'ry day.

And when people talk about how to avoid this, they talk about the structure of government, the electoral process, sh*t like that. Word. Back in school, we spent entire courses trying to solve that problem as we earned our BAs in Politics. Mercifully, the New Hampshire Institute of Politics served baller hot chocolate. Because damn. If you think the government in reality is enormously complex, try government IN THEORY. Holy hell. Get cozy, kids. You're gonna be here awhile.

Put it this way. Even the guys who designed this government, arguably the best to date (insofar as it's the longest lived and living democracy), they were just guessing. They disagreed with each other every step of the way. They even screwed up the first time.

They argued about theory, which we still do today. But. Today, NONE OF IT MATTERS. Or, it matters hugely, but also partially doesn't matter in a very all-consuming way.

Stay with me. What I'm saying is that there's one super fundamental issue that NO ONE (or not nearly enough ones) are talking about.

Let's get this out of the way. The government is only as distant as we allow it to be. As any casual stalker will tell you, it takes two to create distance. We could totally stalk the government if we wanted to. (DEAR NSA, DON'T WORRY, NOT IN A SCARY WAY.) In this way: sign up for emails to find out what those f*ckers are doing, or find out here or here or here, or Google that sh*t and find about seventy thousand other places to find out. IT COULDN'T BE EASIER.

Sure. That sh*t still gets confusing. Because GUN OWNERSHIP PROVISIONS IN HEALTHCARE BILLS. But still. Just stop voting for anyone who adds a horsesh*t rider onto an important bill. Just as easy as not voting for anyone whose votes we don't agree with. This isn't really hard.

IN THEORY.

So here's my point, which is also a lot of other people's points: WHY DON'T WE? Why don't we put even the smallest amount of effort toward getting what we want from those f*ckers with the lifetime pensions?

MY ANSWER: From day one, we are taught not to question the powers that rule over us. And this is downright buffoonery in a democracy.

And this is hardly a government conspiracy. It's PARENTS. Parents emphasize obedience. The casualties are self-advocacy, negotiation, persistence. Things that make a good citizen of democracy.

But who can blame them? Because everyone out there in society values kids who are one thing: OBEDIENT. Guys. I get it. Obedient kids don't get in your way. They don't give you a headache. COOL.

But obedience is like a dark, sketchy alley that would save you so much walking but also might be where you meet a murderer and then die. Obedience is a DANGEROUS SHORTCUT.

It is a SHORTCUT. It's a shortcut to CONSIDERATE. I know why we take this shortcut. Because we can't simply command CONSIDERATE, and we don't see immediate results when we try to teach it. Oh, and teaching it requires MODELING. And yes. Modeling means WE have to BE CONSIDERATE to other people. EVEN WHEN WE DON'T WANT TO BE. Aw sh*t.

But what a world that would be.

Nonetheless, if that's your approach to parenting, you'll piss people off. Because we've been indoctrinated with this obedience-centric horsesh*t for a long time. Generally, people think kids who aren't on the receiving end of OBEY ME are destined for hoodlumdom.

But, if you're a strong and patient parent, you can do it. You can spearhead the peaceful revolution that will one day make government accountable again. So simple. F*ck obedience, focus on empathy.

There's a less simple component, though. Because maybe it also REALLY IS a government conspiracy. Because they are the ones passing absurd sh*t like Common Core Standards, the result of which is schools turning kids into automatons rather than willful individuals.

I don't know if this kind of obedience momentum in public schools and in legislation can be stopped. And maybe the government will be unaccountable forever. But at the absolute very least, enlightened parents should keep at it.

IN DEFENSE OF MOMMY WARS. Kind of. But really, not. But kind of.

I know a lot of people act like they're perfect humans. And some people are really good actors. But that's what they are. Really good actors. Not perfect humans.

Others of us aren't faking sh*t. We're just doing the best we can. Sometimes it involves knowing that we COULD do better IN THEORY but admitting that we CANNOT do better IN REALITY. And sometimes it involves believing that we are ACTUALLY doing what's BEST but knowing that others will disagree.

And this is my favorite thing about the universe: If someone has the balls to judge us for any part of that, we are instantaneously and necessarily better than that person. Because the WORST thing a human can do is to judge another human. Jesus said so. Buddha said so. All the best ones said so.

I have this friend, Shauna. Shauna had her baby girl two months before I had my baby boy. Something about Shauna: She does EVERYTHING. Makes her own yogurt. Travels internationally for her job. Sends out Thank You Cards. WITH THOUGHTFUL MESSAGES IN THEM. ON TIME. All kinds of things I never do. If ever there were a human whose very existence could make someone feel inferior, it is Shauna.

Something else about Shauna: Not a judger. In fact, she says what she loves most about me is "how unapologetically RACHEL I am". What that means is that, among other worse things, last year our Christmas Cards turned out to be New Years Cards, and I've never sent a Thank You Card in my life. And it has nothing to do with trees, despite what I still might tell you if you confronted me on the matter.

Now. The whole Thank You Card failure had always been a source of shame for me. I felt exactly how the ever so wise Glennon Doyle Melton described it in her liberating Facebook post in which she admitted the very same failure. And it got me thinking.

What power OWNERSHIP carries.

I own just about every other failure of mine. Because I really believe I do the best I can, given my priorities. And I'm strangely confident that my priorities are in order. (Right there is where the Thank You Card shame happened, because showing gratitude is high on my list. And somehow the paper industry fooled me into believing that the only expressions of gratitude that count are written ones?)

For whatever reason, I'm lucky enough that deep down in my soul, I believe that MY BEST is ENOUGH. How long I research something. How I analyze the research. My eventual decision. All of it. If it's my best, it's enough.

But I know. Some mamas are thinner-skinned. And looking at your skin and telling it to grow thicker never seems to work. And this is why I see so many NICE mamas keeping information from other mamas, in case it might be offensive. In case it might be interpreted as a battle in this thing that's become known as MOMMY WARS.

But I think the worst thing we can collectively do is to tell a thin-skinned mama that she should be so ashamed of DOING SOMETHING 'WRONG' that discussing it is off limits. Acceptance and hiding do not mix. I find the movement to end discourse on all mama choices and decisions downright scary.

My co-worker once mentioned that she fed her six month old oatmeal.

About that. NOT A BIG DEAL. I have no allergies and a super immune system, and my mom did the same thing with me. BUT. I recently read how the amylase in grains can't be broken down until 12 months and too much of it can cause the gut to leak, resulting in digestion problems and/or allergies. POSSIBLE. It was enough for me to hold off on grains until now that Finley is a year old. But I didn't tell Heidi about it.

HEIDI ISN'T EVEN THIN-SKINNED. And she knows I'm not a jack hole so she knows I wouldn't judge her. I TOTALLY COULD HAVE TOLD HER. But I've been so inundated by this STOP MOMMY WARS propaganda that I had what can only be described as some kind of brain lapse, and couldn't think of a non-awkward way to tell her.

Now if Zoey develops a gluten intolerance, IT WILL BE MY FAULT.

And that's what I don't like about the War on Mommy Wars. Information spreading is, like, a civilian casualty. And that's why I would like it to stop.

And I don't think that the War on Mommy Wars is particularly effective anyway.

And here's why. Yelling at the haters not to hate will NEVER end the Mommy Wars. (IT'S JUST WHAT THEY DO, after all.) In fact, YELLING is like Hater Oxygen. But we suffocate them, and Mommy Wars, by not giving a sh*t. So very simple. We let the judgers judge as long as they want. We just stop giving a sh*t.

Who knows. Maybe they'll keep judging forever even if we stop giving a sh*t. But, you know what? WE WON'T GIVE A SH*T.

So. A quick How To on Not Giving A Sh*t: OWN YOUR DECISIONS. As mamas, we DO HARD THINGS all day, er'ry day. That, and being human, means WE DON'T HAVE TO DO ALL THE RIGHT THINGS.

But we still need information, for when we CAN and WANT TO do them.

I've seen a few mamas willing to provide information with the disclaimer that we all know what's best for our children. Well. That's certainly possible and definitely true sometimes. I actually thought about taking that route when I had the chance to tell Heidi about the oatmeal. But in my head it sounded at least seventy percent absurd.

Because when I read that thing about the grains, it became clear to me that up until that point, I didn't know what was best for Finley in terms of feeding him or not feeding him grains. Who knows. Maybe if I lived on a prairie in the good old days with only my female family members helping me figure out what the eff I was doing, back when grains weren't processed for us in convenient pouches and whatnot, maybe then I would have "known best". But in good old 2013, all signs were pointing to "Feed Finley Oatmeal". So, no. I didn't know best.

Actually, there was a lot of sh*t I didn't know as a first time mom. I figured some sh*t out. I probably definitely did some sh*t wrong. So, I'm sorry if all the other mamas like the you-always-know-what's-best-for-Johnny reassurance. But I hate it. It seems patronizing. SOMETIMES I know what's best for Johnny Finley. BUT SOMETIMES I DON'T AND WE SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SUGARCOAT THAT SH*T. Because sugarcoated sh*t is even worse than regular sh*t. I think.

And guess what. Sometimes I know what's best and I STILL DON'T DO IT. I DON'T CLOTH DIAPER. I had G Diapers all lined up and ready to go for the long haul, but the f*ckers leaked. I Googled and read their blog and tried this and tried that, but the f*ckers leaked. For months and months, the f*ckers leaked. Every size, every time, the f*ckers leaked. And in the Great Financial Adjustment of 2013, we never saved up a big enough chunk to invest in another expensive and potential leaky cloth diapering system. Likewise, in the Great Time Adjustment of 2013, we never had enough time to research which would be the next 'best' option.

BUT. If someone came along and fed me the red pill and told me exactly how offensive this is to the earth, I wouldn't spit it out, cry, and feel like a failure for what I've done. I would admit that I enjoyed living in the Matrix thus far, swallow the darn pill, give up some burrito nights and time on Pinterest, and actually get on the ball before Finley's potty trained.

And you're right. I'm not seeking out the red pill. I'm owning the hell out of that decision, too. And I'm not even defending why. Some mamas will understand. Others will judge. And I won't give a sh*t.

VACCINES: There Is No Answer.

If only we shared as much love on Facebook as we do divisive and oversimplified vaccination memes. IF ONLY.

AUTISM LINK. HERD IMMUNITY. Yes. I know. But see those people on the other side of the fence? They also want their kids alive and healthy. BUT WE'RE IN AN OVERPOPULATED WORLD WITH DISEASES THAT MUTATE AND THIS SH*T IS HARD TO MANAGE.

But it's also straightforward in a way. No amount of justified distrust of big pharma can make the following statements untrue. Vaccines are not guaranteed to work. But that doesn't mean they never work. Vaccines contain toxins. But that doesn't mean they will always cause harm.

The human body has a system to deal with toxins. But sometimes the detoxification system will fail to do its job. So sometimes vaccines will cause harm or death. Definitely not always.

The human body has a system to deal with diseases. But sometimes the immune system will fail to do its job. So sometimes diseases will cause harm or death. Definitely not always.

So let me quickly get real about what that means.

You truly do not know whether your child would be saved or harmed by a vaccine. You can guess. You can somewhat educatedly guess. But you do not know.

Because the data needed to get a precise risk analysis? It is extremely broad. And there are some big unkowns that can make all the difference to your individual situation.

First let's weigh the risk of disease. We have to know the likelihood of contraction in vaccinated persons relative to those unvaccinated. Then we have to know the likelihood of permanent damage or mortality when contracted. Those statistics exist. If you ask me, they're fuzzy as sh*t because they hinge on decades of data and how the eff do you account for population growth, sanitation conditions, other medical developments, and general health? Or even random sh*t like how antibacterial hand soap is affecting human immune systems and germ strength?

But still, we get statistically maybe-somewhat-accurate trends. But even so. Relying on probability to determine your risk is inherently inaccurate for an individual when one single occurrence can instantaneously turn the numbers the way that only contagious diseases can.

And the other side of the equation is an equal b*tch to compute. Vaccine injury and death rates exist. And here you have some more fuzzy as sh*t numbers because are they under-reported by doctors or over-reported since the timing of vaccines coincides with that of symptom onset for neurological problems that occur even without vaccines?

But maybe they give us some general idea. But then we get M. Night Shyamalaned again. Because can you read your genetic code? Me either. And toxin exposure from sources other than vaccines? Maybe you have a general sense of your child's, but how much BPA did those kids in the statistics chew on before they got vaccinated? And how much GMO food did they eat? No one's controlling for that. And if one does control for BPA or GMO or OPP (yeah you know... nevermind) exposure, what about all the toxins they don't even know about? The ones in non-BPA plastic that they haven't studied yet? The ones in perfume? All the ones in all the places that you'll only know about in twenty years? And are they ever even going to try to isolate the variable of those increasingly flashy HD strobe lights marketed as educational television? These other toxins matter. It's science.

What you end up with is two amorphous gray blobs on each side of the scale. But hey, it's great for you if you can convince yourself that it's a big black mass against a tiny white spec. Peace of mind. Enjoy it.

But it'd be better for our collective peace if we all just recognize that it's a crap shoot. On the count of three, let's all stop pretending our guesses are answers, and just respect each other's guesses.

Because get ready. Sh*t's about to get cray.

First. Any brain scientist will tell you that what people may label an "instinct" is actually the result of your brain's unconscious observations and synthesis of said observations.

Second. If you haven't watched the documentary I Am, go do it. It explains the very very real reality that information is transferred in ways other than through our senses and conscious mind. This isn't trippy, this is modern physics. Okay. Maybe it's both. But, for reals, molecules are connected in ways we LITERALLY DO NOT UNDERSTAND (and when I say we, I mean physicists too, because I have so much in common with them). As such, information is passed via electromagnetic fields. And in case you didn't know, the heart's electromagnetic field is FIVE THOUSAND times the size of the brain.

So all I'm gonna say is this. What if all of us moms were making the right decisions for our kids and we didn't even know it? What if, collectively, we were unconsciously avoiding every avoidable instance of neurological damage and death? And here's the big one: What if we all just assume that to be true?

KIDS DON'T NEED LIMITS. You heard me.

Okay, they need DON'T PLAY WITH KNIVES limits. I'm not talking about safety limits. I'm not an idiot.

That said, my money's on close to 90% of people still thinking that I AM an idiot. NO WAY THIS LADY HAS A DEGREE IN CHILD PSYCHOLOGY.

You're right. I don't. But I have something way better: MEMORY.

Having my memory is better than having a degree for the following reason. Child psychology is like literally every other ology. There is never one answer and there are always two schools of thought. I wish I realized that sooner.

Back before I had a kid, I used to watch Supernanny every Friday night with my then-pregnant sister. This tradition had me convinced that I should not follow in my sister's pregnant footsteps because TIMEOUT? Like ENFORCE it? And MAKE a reward chart? With my HANDS? Remember to USE it? CONSISTENTLY? Not my thang.

Being single at the time, I wasn't too worried about what a terrible parent I'd make right then and there. But I did make mental notes in case I ever I met a nice guy with whom I wanted to make a baby.

I quickly forgot everything Supernanny taught me, time passed, I met my husband, and then we decided we could raise a human. At some point, I got a Supernanny flashback, and thought DAMN. I still don't know how not to raise a jerk. I better figure that sh*t out.

But then, I found a blog post that linked to an article, which led me to buy a book. And that book petted me on the head and told me it would be okay and that Supernanny was full of sh*t.

That book was Alfie Kohn's Unconditional Parenting. It said that there was an alternative to the rewards/punishment model, and it was good. And that was about all I needed to hear because I'd never be consistent enough for that sh*t anyway. But, talking to and engaging my kid? Well that sounded downright familiar.

As a kid, I never encountered timeout or saw a reward chart. And since I was a REALLY well-behaved kid, everything Alfie said made some hardcore sense to me.

BUT. Everywhere you look on the internets, it's like CONTROL YOUR HEATHENS. RULES. TIMEOUTS. LIMITS. CHILDREN WITHOUT LIMITS SCARE THEMSELVES.

Limits. Wait. I didn't really encounter too many of those either. I mean, my parents told me not to do dangerous things, but I was perfectly happy not to hurt myself or anyone else, so they didn't have to enforce those. So. Was I scared as a kid?

Nooo. (And be real. Do you ever remember feeling fear when you were in a particularly wild or persistent mood as a child? Or did you feel excited and determined? That's what I thought.)

The very few times my parents gave me limits, it was the LIMITS that felt SCARY.

So I thank God that I was born to my mom and dad, who were usually open for negotiation. But the rare times that they weren't, I felt panic. Like being trapped or invisible. Literally helpless. No power, no input.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T SIT BEHIND THE DRIVER'S SEAT? WHY IS IT EMILY'S SEAT? SHE GETS IT EVERY DAY. WHY DON'T I GET A TURN? I DON'T KNOW WHY I WANT TO SIT THERE BUT I DO. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT'S NOT A REASON? THIS FIT I'M THROWING? THAT MEANS THIS IS IMPORTANT. WILL NOTHING MAKE YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

Now, as a mom who has had no choice but to leave her 11-month old at daycare even on the days that he frowns when we start to leave, I know we sometimes don't have the option to do what our children prefer. And that's okay. But that's also exactly why explanation and negotiation are GIFTS to parenting.

Fortunately for me, Finley forgets about us before we're even out the door. But as for me, I did not take so easily to preschool.

I DON'T WANT TO BE LEFT AT PRESCHOOL MOM. WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND? WHY AREN'T MY WORDS WORKING? DO I HAVE TO SCREAM AND RUN OUT THE DOOR TOWARD THE ROAD? DONE. WHY IS YOUR CAR SO FAST? HOW DID THIS TEACHER CATCH ME? IS THAT PHONE ON THE WALL A TOY OR IS IT REAL? CAN I CALL DAD? I NEED DAD'S WORK NUMBER.

Three days later, negotiations began. Turned out there was a workable alternative to being forced out of my quiet home which I had peacefully enjoyed for the previous four years on a daily basis and thrown into the mutiny of 20 other kids with their power politics all up in my face first thing in the morning. I went relatively happily to a babysitter who had a daughter just younger than me, and that little girl happened to do whatever I told her to do. That was much more my speed. And the next year I went very happily off to kindergarten and never looked back. Crisis averted. Hear, hear: Negotiation.

I HOPE no one thinks that it's a smart idea NOT to offer kids an explanation when there really is no alternative. But, I DO know that some people think you shouldn't negotiate. I know. It's the experts who say that negotiation is the opposite of limits and limits make kids feel safe.

Yo experts, I'm really happy for you, I'll let you finish, but you're wrong. Because I remember what it was like firsthand. Feeling safe is the opposite of feeling helpless and powerless.

Alfie is far from the only expert who encourages parenting beyond rewards/punishments/limits. Now. Some experts (like this lady) talk about setting empathetic limits. Well. Semantics. Having empathetic limits means that you're taking as much input from your kid as you can, with health and safety in mind. That's negotiation. And I guess I just don't consider negotiation to be in the same realm as Supernanny-style limits.

So what I'm really saying is this: Please don't believe Supernanny-style experts just because it's easier for them to pimp their sh*t and because they yell louder than the pro-empathy experts. Yes, it's straightforward to tell you to demand obedience and depending on your kid's reaction, distribute either a timeout or gold star. But your kid is capable of more than obedience. He's capable of doing what's right not just because he'd otherwise have to sit on a stool for five minutes, but because it's RIGHT. Because you model what's RIGHT by modeling EMPATHY. That is, you took the time to get his input to reach a mutually agreeable solution. Because you showed him that his feelings matter. Because kids learn by example, not by demand.

If you're not convinced, that's cool. Maybe you're right. Maybe your kids can't handle their own power. Maybe they're more suited to be controlled by their superiors for their whole lives. Everyone's different. Genetics and all that. ;-)

To My Son: Do NOT Respect Your Elders. (Lest you become a Nazi.)

That's right. SUCK IT, curmudgeons.

Seriously. Have you interacted with adults lately? Because I have. And a great many of them do not exhibit any characteristics I think deserve respect.

I'm not just talking about the adults who are murderers, sexual deviants, politicians, and other ostensibly untrustworthy folks.

I'm talking about normal adults. Egocentric, environmentally abusive, and materialistic. Maybe not most of them. I sure hope not MOST of them. But a lot of them. A LOT. Probably most.

I commute with them, they're our clients at work, I see them in the grocery store.

I have absolutely no reason to respect them, except in the sense that they are fellow humans, which is certainly worth something. But, children are also humans.

And children happen to be innocent, curious, and genuine humans. THOSE are qualities I respect.

If I ask myself what possible reason there is to respect grumpy, jerk hole adults over sweet, energetic children, I can think of only one. Because adults are in control, and they say so.

Eff that. Hard. It is so transparently wrong and self-serving that it makes my heart pound and my Irish skin turn red.

Because I don't see much morality here on adult street. Now, I don't think our species is a lost cause or anything. I mean, I saw the Buzzfeed that will restore your faith in humanity. And this one, too.

But, if we need our faith restored, that's a pretty good indication that something shook our faith in the first place. Something like valuing money, power, and things WAY too much. And something like valuing the earth and fellow humans not NEARLY enough.

I'm not teaching my kid to respect adults with values like those.

Because that's how you get Nazis.

Sounds crazy? If only.

Hitler didn't inject his subordinates with genocide juice. He capitalized on an allegiance to obedience. And obedience is little more than respect for authority. And if we tell our kids to respect all adults BECAUSE ADULTS, that doesn't help them distinguish authority that should be obeyed from authority that should not.

And if they don't learn to make that distinction, they might end up like Adolf Eichmann, the Nazi in charge of expediting death, the average guy who had a normal family life and was declared sane by six psychologists at trial. Or like Rudolf Hoss, commandant of Auschwitz, who had a similar upbringing. They and a lot of Germans were students of obedience-centric indoctrination, at home, in school, at church.

Yes. Nazis were regular people who valued obedience more than anything else. And then sh*t got crazy. And so did they.

Scary, yes? Stanley Milgram thought so, too. And so he tried to prove that Americans were different from Germans. And he found that we weren't so much.

And before you lunatics accuse me of defending Nazis, I'm not. I'm not responsible for judging them or anyone else, but I'm a big fan of accountability. And that's precisely why this is so important to me.

I'm not saying that every obedient kid will fail to recognize evil and to slam on the brakes. But, I am saying that there is an inherent danger in emphasizing obedience. And, I am saying that obedience is a shortcut, easier and more concrete than cultivating morality in your child. And, I am saying that you should invest the time and trust in cultivating morality instead.

Look, no one saw Hitler coming. So, just in case.

Finley, I know you have a good heart. You will know right and wrong. That is enough.

You do not always need to be obedient. Just considerate. And loving. That is enough.

You do not need to give your elders more respect than any other life. Like a plant. That is enough.

Merry Holidays: 3 Things I Must Say on November 6th.

I can't take another year's worth of yammering about whether it's Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays. It hurts my brain so much. This is your classic ain't-nobody-got-time-for-that scene, as tired as I am of that whole cray-craze.

Let's get real. Holiday season is hardcore. You should either be risking your life on the hunt for inhumane deals at 4am or stocking up on mason jars and busting the sh*t out of homemade gifts. You should either be assembling your faux tree and lighting your pine-scented candle or wrestling a real one up as your dog licks the sap off your bod. You should be pinning one thousand cookie recipes, eighty-six ideas for table settings even though you're not hosting, and at least twelve disappointing lists claiming to offer ideas for man-stocking stuffers.

Bottom line, there's a sh*t ton to do, and OH, it's THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR. So effing stop with all those IT'S NOT HOLIDAYS IT'S CHRISTMAS AND I WANT AN OOMPA LOOMPA NOW DADDY memes. Cuz I'm about to lose my sh*t. In fact, here it goes. In the form of a list. Obviously.

1. You serious, Christian?

What the f*ckity f*ck would Jesus really say in response to your b*tching about what to call the celebration of love surrounding his birthday?

Granted, He probably wouldn't say "f*ckity f*ck", and I'm not absurd enough to offer a precise guess. But if there's one thing I got out of ten years of Catechism other than ten years worth of cookies and juice, it's that He wants us to love even hoes like our bros. That's just how it goes.

If you're restricting your seasonal love to fellow Christians only, you're doing it wrong.

2. You're kind of an idiot if you wish someone a happy birthday on YOUR birthday.

Try to follow the analogy. Because you really shouldn't wish people happy birthday on your birthday INSTEAD OF on their birthdays. That is selfish and lame.

Know what else is selfish and lame?

Yes. Thinking that the only people celebrating something during what happens to be the Christmas season are Christians.

Is it really that gosh darn unthinkable that other holidays exist and that people celebrate them and that other people want to wish them pleasant celebrations?

3. Say whatever the efferoo you wanna say, and leave that shizz at that.

Regardless of the above number two, you aren't the government or the stores or the who or whatever else that has decided to embrace all holidays over the one and only Christmas. So if you want to keep on focusing on your holiday of choice, if the fact that you're in the majority motivates you to focus on the majority and ignore the rest, just do your thang and shut the bejesus uuuup.

The most eye-burning, ear-bleeding loathsome conduct ever? When people who are in the majority cry discrimination for no reason. I'm not saying it can't happen, but that's tricky water. And probably the worst thing you can do for your boat is to start lamenting over what bullsh*t it is that other people are celebrating holidays around the same time as your holiday.

I say all this with love. I mean, I'm not particularly thick-skinned, and I'm a Christmas-obSESSed Christian. And I just couldn't give less f*cks how anyone else phrases their holiday greetings. So I think if you really try, you can get the eff over it. Just try.

I know, I pretend to write a parenting blog. So, let me tie this into parenting: I don't want my kid to be a self-centered, closed-minded jerk hole. The end.

Dear lady sitting across from me on the train who just rolled her eyesat a kid who was being loud,

I rarely sit in these seats that face other seats. I find the accidental eye contact disrupting. Is it accidental when I zone out as I stare at a stranger, trying to figure out whatever I think I can figure out about a person by staring at her face? Moving on.

Well, I had no choice today. I always leave work early enough to get an emergency exit three-seater. Because being able to escape a disaster through the window is as important as having a personal space buffer between me and my seatmate.

But today, Obama got in my way at Faneuil Hall. I had to walk up into Government Center and back down to Congress. I then tried to cross a street to continue making my way to North Station and got screamed at and possibly almost shot by a jacked up cop, not knowing that the motorcade was about to come through. My B, officer.

Anyway, I'm guessing you don't care about that. Because I got the sense that you aren't big on empathy.

When you sat down across from me, my first thought was that you were pretty. Not gorgeous, so don't let it get to your merely pretty head.

But then a little kid made a rather vocal lap up and down the aisle of the train car with his mom, who was visibly desperate to find a seat so he'd calm down. And then, you, in the words of Kevin McCallister, woof. Not so pretty anymore.

Approaching 48 seconds of this child's noise, you looked at the pair and rolled your eyes. You rolled your eyes aggressively. Which is kind of hilarious, because if you can picture an adult aggressively rolling her eyes, you know it makes her look an awful lot like a petulant child. Irony is my favorite.

I know I sound critical. But they say that the flaws we're most critical about in others are ones we see in ourselves.

I don't know who they are, but they're at least kind of right. Because I used to do the same thing you just did. All the time. Back when I was pretty.

Back when I had a tan. And highlights. And time to put on makeup. And money for makeup. If nothing else because I didn't bother to get the expensive organic sh*t before.

Before I became a mom.

But back to you. As soon as your eyes completed the roll, mine shot directly to your bare ring finger.

Of course, your marital status told me nothing definitive. It's probably equally possible that you're a mom. Maybe not equally. I don't know the statistics.

But I was looking for the only clue I might find. Because I hope you're not a mom.

Us moms do sometimes get frustrated when our kids go ape bonkers. I might not know for sure why, but I like to think it's because we love them so much that we internalize their frustration. Not because the sound just annoys us. But then, we are still human. (Awesome humans. But still human.) And okay, it might be annoying sometimes.

But, that's with our own kids. I'd like to think (or maybe just hope or wish) that moms have it in them to sympathize with other moms when they witness a kid being... well, a kid.

The general public really likes to hate on kids. They're called entitled, spoiled, out of control. All because they're not behaving like adults.

All you uptight biddies are convinced THIS GENERATION is so awful. Guess what? Y'all been thinkin' that for a century's worth of generations. Seriously. Just go read that. All of it. And then shut the eff up about kids just being kids. With a little trust and a lot of good modeling, they'll grow up to be good humans.

Being controlled every minute of the day? That sure as sh*t will not improve the situation. Humans like freedom. It's why we stole this land and waged war on our government in the name of democracy. You can't stop that sh*t.

Now, I'm actually not writing this to be critical. Like I said, I've been there. Irritated by the noise of youth. So, I'm writing to share one thing that motherhood has opened my eyes to.

I'm looking for a better word for selflessness, but I've got nothing. So, SELFLESSNESS.

I used to walk around incredulous at all the interferences in my routine, as though they were intended to annoy me.

The persons walking slowly and getting in MY way on the sidewalk. The person who chose to take the empty seat next to ME. The mom who couldn't stop her kid from giving ME a headache.

But now I know.

The less you focus on yourself, the happier you get. Try it.

XO,
Rachel

PS YOU WEREN'T EVEN IN THE QUIET CAR. COACH BEHIND THE ENGINE, B*TCH.