STFU, Parents: You Don’t Know Love Until You’re A Parent
Ah, love. It’s a many splendor thing — especially when you’re a new parent. The oxytocin levels increase, you look down at your sleeping or barfing little mini-me and say to yourself, “This. This is what I never knew I was missing from life, and it is incredible.” Right? How many people do we all know who have expressed this feeling, or have had it themselves? But the funny thing about abstract concepts like ‘love’ and ‘happiness’ is that they’re supposed to be self-defined. Who I am to tell a person that she hasn’t experienced true bliss until she’s had the carnitas from my local taco truck, or hiked to the peak of a particular mountain? Why should I deem myself an authority on someone’s happiness meter when my subjective reality probably vacillates wildly different from theirs?
I often wonder this when I hear about people telling their friends to have a baby and either partially or completely accusing them of not understanding what love really means. Granted, the love parents feel for their (own) kids appears to be pretty universal, so there’s a good track record to believe that having kids is as good, if not better, than hang gliding in Costa Rica. Everyone, even the shittiest parents who roam the earth, appears to agree that having kids is the fucking shit, a notion brought on by an animalistic desire we all have to protect and nourish our babies once they’re born. Normally, I’d be glad that we have this built-in barometer that adjusts itself accordingly once a tiny baby needs sustenance in our clumsy care — and I am glad, for the most part — except that every time a couple has a baby, they become official annoying authorities on all things Love.
All of a sudden, the love new parents thought they knew B.B. (before baby) is a total joke. It’s pretty much a single penny in the massive FOUNTAIN of love they now swim in on the daily. A poopy diaper equals love. A gassy smile equals love. The way babies’ eyes can see right through you, can see all of the mistakes you made in your youth but can forgive you for them, too, because babies are sweet li’l redeemers, is equivalent to eating at least 100 carnitas tacos from the best truck you can find. And if you’re not in the know, your friends, or even total strangers, will ensure that you will be.
1. #Blessed #Duh
2. Authorjacking
3. New Puppy < New Baby
Aw, what a cute puppy! Look at those big paws! Look at those needy eyes! I think he just ripped my heart from my chest and is gnawing on it on his new doggy bed in his new home! What a cutie! Except, of course, for the fact that he’s not a human baby. Good effort, Chris and whomever the original poster is, but your puppy pales in comparison to Michelle’s child. They both pee on rugs, they both make funny noises and have the capacity to shatter any breakables within reach, but one is unfortunately infinitely superior to the other. That’s why parents are always telling people that dogs aren’t kids, so that those people can learn right from wrong. Having a dog is nice and all, but having a baby is just better. FACT. End of story. Enjoy your new puppy that will never call you “mom” or “dad” and give you butterfly kisses on your nose while reading “Charlotte’s Web” before bedtime. Enjoy that.
4. Self-Summary Of An OkCupid Douche Dad
This was sent to me recently by a reader who was perusing OkCupid, possibly looking for the man of her dreams, when she came across this douche. What kind of guy goes out of his way to alienate all women without children just because he’s convinced that they “don’t seem to understand the sacrifice it takes to raise and love a child”? Way to close yourself off not only from a potentially amazing (step-)mother figure for your kid, but also a woman who would be willing to put up with your selfish garbage outlook on life, Douche Dad. How many women with kids do you think are going to be interested in a misogynist jerkoff such as yourself? You sound like the kind of guy who “calls the shots” and “speaks his mind” and assumes people actually want to listen. Big mistake. Big. Huge.
Whooookay there, Ashley. We get it. Even Katie is able to sum up her intense love and devotion to her new baby in a single line. Somehow you still required another eight lines on top of that, each one more saccharine and unnecessary than the last. I know I ask this question a lot, but why don’t more parents keep diaries for ramblings like this? They can jot down their endless love for their baby, tape in two or 200 pictures scrapbook style, and write “I <3 Bailey” all over the front cover — but no, instead they choose Facebook. Ashley had never even began to imagine the love she would feel for her son, and now look at her! Gushing all over her friend’s page about mommyhood and the amazing feeling and unconditional love it brings. It’s almost as though she’s only able to see through the eyes of baby love now…through the eyes of a mommy. How lovely for all of her friends.