Okay.
So.
I was putting together a photo album from what's left of about 6 sudden uprootings, over the span of...I guess 4 years? I lost newborn photos, birth announcements, sonograms, etc, but I managed to hold onto a shoebox full of photos from the mid 2000s, amid all the chaos. I noticed that I'm not really in any of them. Everyone else is, but I'm legit forgotten about. I'm so glad smartphones and selfies are a thing now and I'm no longer just the legendary GhostMom whose presence can only ever be assumed, never confirmed. Apparently, this is a thing that is fairly common for moms. We tend to be the ones taking the photos of the kids, the cute moments, the holidays, the relatives, and we end up becoming background noise.
Anywhom, I was vaguely complaining about this lack of care yesterday (sausages were involved...don't ask) and I mentioned in passing how mothers get the short end of the family photo stick when suddenly...
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I'm told that this is just another opportunity for me to bitch about men, which apparently, I LOOOOVE to do.
As a side note, did you know that, as long as you LOL and announce that you're just kidding, anything you say or do MUST be recognized as drop dead hilarious by the offended party, or else it's proof that he/she is a monster who cannot take a harmless joke? It's the cousin of the "I'm not racist, but..." disclaimer, as well as the "...some of my best friends are gay!" clause.
And, well....
I guess it's sorta true. I do love bitching about shitty people. I have a great dislike for "not like other girls" people. You know, that one girl, the only girl in the whole entire fucking world, who plays video games. Or watches sports. Or reads. Or hates the color pink. Or enjoys some "nerdy" hobby. Or hates shopping. I'm sure you've met her. She's a unique and precious gem in a world filled with vapid, superficial, materialistic women. Pick her!
It's also true that I loathe cheaters. Especially the kind who make it seem like forgiveness and reconciliation is something owed rather than earned. "I know you found my dating profile, baaaabe, but jeez! It's already been 2 weeks, time to get over it already!" You can really sense their deep and profound remorse at having been caught for the 12th time. This time, it's different. This time, they mean it.
I suppose it's true that I bitch about men a lot here - but in all fairness, no woman has ever sent me a dick pic with the expectation that I would be an instant and easy bang, and then call me a slut when passed on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No woman has ever demanded I leave the hospital just after giving birth so that their drunk buds could come and spill beer all over my carpet, blast the TV until 6am while I sob in bed, in pain, with a brand new baby, because how dare I interrupt their weekend plans. No woman has ever left bruises on me, repeatedly, or sprayed bleach in my eyes. As soon as one does, I'll let y'all know.
Ahh but, you know how I am. I just enjoy bitching for no reason. None whatsoever.
But you know what actually is kinda funny, though? When someone somehow relates to the asshole in your story, and it mirrors exactly who they are. They'll do anything to shift the focus off of the reflection.
Like that "not like other girls" girl. You're just jealous that she's so interesting and all the boys love and respect her so so soooo much. You're just like other girls. Haters gonna hate.
Or that dude who looks like a doting father, because his baby mama made sure to take lots of pictures of him with the kids when he wasn't acting like they were the worst mistake of his life. Clearly, you just hate men and this is the only reason why anyone would even bother to bring it up.
Or that cheater who became trustworthy overnight, through no effort of his/her own. Obviously you just don't understand the power of love, where they can go and fuck someone else and it's okay because they were battling personal demons and totally not the consequences of their own actions. No no no, truly, theirs is a love story of fairy tale proportions.
But bitching is an art, and I like to think I'm getting fairly talented with it. Yesterday, it was lack of thoughtfulness when it comes to making sure your child's mother is represented in the family album. Tomorrow, who knows?
Point is, I'm glad selfies exist. I know a lot of people see it as vanity, but I take a lot of comfort in knowing that if nothing else, I can at least rely on myself to get a couple of decent photos with...my high schooler on graduation day. Christmas morning around the tree. Anniversaries. You know, dumb things.
