I used to not give a rat’s ass what people thought about me… in high school. I was curious what they thought about me from time to time, but I didn’t care what they thought about me.
Fast forward one husband and two kids later and suddenly i’m all concern. I hate that! When did this happen?!
About 2 minutes after my son was born, that’s when. And it’s just continued on from there.
Being a new mom with a newborn is rife with unsureness, insecurity, confusion and lack of sleep, giving it all a glowing aura of hysteria . Add in experienced family, your own parents, professionals and it’s a wonder we ever make it to toddlerhood!
Facebook/ social media doesn’t always help this paranoia, either. In some ways it is invaluable in terms of advice, downtime, child tip resources, feeling better about yourself via old high school enemies that got fat, old boyfriends that seemingly downgraded, catching up with relatives. In other ways it’s just another avenue for inferiority. Specifically all those summer vacation euphoria pics, and the dreaded holiday nonsense. (Elf on the Shelf anyone?).
If I try to coat my feelings in reality and truly imagine what those family beach photo shoots actually looked like, then I’m cynical. If I imagine switching children and places, i’m a stalker. What’s the right answer?!
“Just be happy and thankful for your life.” … right.. and put all those shrinks out of business?! How rude!
In the end, I suppose we should all just mind our own business. There is no such thing as a perfect family, and I suppose the quicker we accept that, the happier – and more sober – we will be. Where’s the fun in that?!
Sarcasmica 