We Should Probably Stop

We should probably stop doing that thing where we think the house has to be sparkly clean for somebody to come over. That’s why nobody ever comes over, five years go by, and we complain that we never have any get-togethers.

We should probably stop doing that thing where we keep trying to dress our 7 year olds in the smocked collared shirts and the boutique dresses. That ship has sailed. Plus, that’s why they turn 13, start wearing black just to flip us the bird, and can’t decide who they actually are. We didn’t give it a rest long enough to let them start figuring it out and be themselves.

We should probably stop doing that thing where we roll our eyes at our “perfect” friends on Facebook who post pictures of their white farmhouse sofa with the rustic throw pillows for every season, who post pictures of the fam wearing matching bathing suits playfully splashing at the beach, and who post pictures of the freshly baked triple-layer berry cake with white chocolate ganache she baked. Girl, if she can keep a white couch clean, get them kids to stop bitching about the salt water in their eyes long enough to take a picture, and she knows what ganache is and can actually make it…you clap for her. She’s either a true queen or behind the scenes she’s a hot damn mess, and she’s trying her best to hide the crazy. Let her be.

We should probably stop doing that thing where we ask our kids what they want to do, which outfit they’re going to wear, and whether they feel comfortable saying “thank you” to Grandpa. I think we should probably give them a few choices and expect eager participation in whichever they choose, tell them to go put on the blue shorts and the dinosaur t-shirt before quick gets ready, and tell them to speak loudly and clearly when they thank Granddaddy because he’s an important member of the family who just did something nice for them (and sometimes he can’t hear that good).

We should probably stop doing that thing where we hide from our mothers that we drink, smoke, cuss, or have tattoos. If you’re 30+ years old and you drink, smoke, cuss, or have tattoos, own it, Sister. Stop hiding it from your mother. Respecting her is one thing, but keeping it from her like you’ll be grounded is something else. She won’t break. You’re a grown woman. Don’t tell your dad, though. He’s not ready. (Totally kidding. Own. It.)

We should probably stop doing that thing where we freak out over dumb stuff. If your sister-in-law is not coming to your little Sweet Pea’s second birthday party, who cares?! Let that woman’s crap speak for itself. Eat the cake. Celebrate the kid. Get in the bouncy house. Don’t give it another thought.

We should probably stop doing that thing where we smile a lot and keep people around knowing damn well they talk about us behind our backs. I say that if we KNOW someone has been duplicitous and disloyal, they go to arms-length. Cut it. And when they ask why…in your own nice way…tell them.

I’m the “we”. I should probably stop doing that thing. What about you?