Dear Friends:
Everyone receiving this email has something in common. Yes, you are all Champions in my eyes. No, I don't have webcams hidden in (all of) your apartments. But yes, I want all of you to hear this.
Everyone receiving this email has something in common. Yes, you are all Champions in my eyes. No, I don't have webcams hidden in (all of) your apartments. But yes, I want all of you to hear this.
Strap in, folks. This might get awkward.
Each of you have semi-recently or will soon join the amazing cabal of parenthood. Did I say "cabal?" I meant the "awesome-everything-is-great" club. Congrats, or soon to be congrats! All of your dreams have/will come true! You are/will be a part of those lucky people who know the joys of rearing a child! Or children!! REJOICE!!
Okay... now that that's done, here is the real reason I am writing this email.
Mostly every day of my life, I try and be the best friend I possibly can to those I love. And, in line with said thinking, it's past time I threw myself on the invisible pyre of common-thinking-nonsense, and actually tried to make a difference in the lives of my friends-with-kids.
Hey, I honestly love all of your children. Big Boy Jack is amazingly fun to be around. Baby Cade is a super-sweet baby, and I look forward to knowing him more. Baby Casey is crazy-adory, especially when he's swaddled and looks like a burrito of cute. I'm ridiculously smitten with Bean a.k.a. Gorman. I can't wait to spend time with the crime-fighting-team of Babies Calvin & Quincey. And, I can't be more excited to be a part of Nicki and Jase's baby once s/he's born.
Okay? We clear? 'Cause then I want to say this: Having kids fucking sucks. And sometimes, your kids should go fuck themselves. I'm saying it so you don't have to... yet.
No, I don't have kids, nor do I pretend to really know what parenthood is like. But, I DO know that there seems to be a conspiracy about parenthood, where everything is amazing and wonderful and as soon as little Binky grabs onto your pinky with his hand then you know that you will love him forever and hugs and clouds and unicorns and ENOUGH ALREADY!! Of course, all of you love your children. Of course, all of you will be/are amazing parents. But... shouldn't you be able to talk about the trials involved?
I guess that's what I'm offering. If any of you ever want to have someone to talk to that isn't a parent, but that is completely understanding and NON-COMPARING OR JUDGMENTAL (that was apparently so important, I wrote it in all-caps), and as empathetic as one possibly can try to be... I'd like to be there for you. 'Cause you being loving parents has nothing to do with your frustration about how frustrating babies/kids are.
Again, I'm gonna say it. They're stupid, greedy, fussy seemingly mean-spirited creatures who have been put on this earth to ruin your life. If that sentence makes you uncomfortable, then feel free to re-read what I wrote a few paragraphs earlier. I believe in everything I'm saying. And, I guess I'm just tired of feeling like parents are so afraid of talking about what they're dealing with because they're afraid of being judged.
Babies are amazing. And they're also so stupid that they don't know how to latch, or they do it wrong and try and rip your nipple off. Babies are a gift from God, and they're also so stupid that they knock their own sucker out of their mouth and then scream 'cause their sucker is mysteriously gone. Babies are our future, but they're also so stupid that they think milk grows on boob-trees, and mother's feel unfairly guilty if they can't produce enough. Babies are a reason to get up in the morning, and a reason to fucking hate getting up in the morning 'cause they are so bad at sleeping that they scream to death when they're over-tired and then scream to death when they're wide-awake.
Each of you have semi-recently or will soon join the amazing cabal of parenthood. Did I say "cabal?" I meant the "awesome-everything-is-great" club. Congrats, or soon to be congrats! All of your dreams have/will come true! You are/will be a part of those lucky people who know the joys of rearing a child! Or children!! REJOICE!!
Okay... now that that's done, here is the real reason I am writing this email.
Mostly every day of my life, I try and be the best friend I possibly can to those I love. And, in line with said thinking, it's past time I threw myself on the invisible pyre of common-thinking-nonsense, and actually tried to make a difference in the lives of my friends-with-kids.
Hey, I honestly love all of your children. Big Boy Jack is amazingly fun to be around. Baby Cade is a super-sweet baby, and I look forward to knowing him more. Baby Casey is crazy-adory, especially when he's swaddled and looks like a burrito of cute. I'm ridiculously smitten with Bean a.k.a. Gorman. I can't wait to spend time with the crime-fighting-team of Babies Calvin & Quincey. And, I can't be more excited to be a part of Nicki and Jase's baby once s/he's born.
Okay? We clear? 'Cause then I want to say this: Having kids fucking sucks. And sometimes, your kids should go fuck themselves. I'm saying it so you don't have to... yet.
No, I don't have kids, nor do I pretend to really know what parenthood is like. But, I DO know that there seems to be a conspiracy about parenthood, where everything is amazing and wonderful and as soon as little Binky grabs onto your pinky with his hand then you know that you will love him forever and hugs and clouds and unicorns and ENOUGH ALREADY!! Of course, all of you love your children. Of course, all of you will be/are amazing parents. But... shouldn't you be able to talk about the trials involved?
I guess that's what I'm offering. If any of you ever want to have someone to talk to that isn't a parent, but that is completely understanding and NON-COMPARING OR JUDGMENTAL (that was apparently so important, I wrote it in all-caps), and as empathetic as one possibly can try to be... I'd like to be there for you. 'Cause you being loving parents has nothing to do with your frustration about how frustrating babies/kids are.
Again, I'm gonna say it. They're stupid, greedy, fussy seemingly mean-spirited creatures who have been put on this earth to ruin your life. If that sentence makes you uncomfortable, then feel free to re-read what I wrote a few paragraphs earlier. I believe in everything I'm saying. And, I guess I'm just tired of feeling like parents are so afraid of talking about what they're dealing with because they're afraid of being judged.
Babies are amazing. And they're also so stupid that they don't know how to latch, or they do it wrong and try and rip your nipple off. Babies are a gift from God, and they're also so stupid that they knock their own sucker out of their mouth and then scream 'cause their sucker is mysteriously gone. Babies are our future, but they're also so stupid that they think milk grows on boob-trees, and mother's feel unfairly guilty if they can't produce enough. Babies are a reason to get up in the morning, and a reason to fucking hate getting up in the morning 'cause they are so bad at sleeping that they scream to death when they're over-tired and then scream to death when they're wide-awake.
Babies, we love you. And we'll protect you throughout your lives. And, feel free to go fuck yourselves.
So, that's my confusing manifesto. A number of the people on this email have described situations to me involving times when they felt judged or looked-down-upon by other parents because no one seems to want to talk about how tough parenting really is.
So, that's my confusing manifesto. A number of the people on this email have described situations to me involving times when they felt judged or looked-down-upon by other parents because no one seems to want to talk about how tough parenting really is.
And it is the VERY LEAST I can do to offer myself up. As a counsel that will never pretend to know better than you because of half-baked nonsense. As a sounding-board that will never judge you, and that wants to hear your frustrations because maybe letting off steam can only help. As an unconditional vent-sponge. I won't be doing you a favor, 'cause I'm only happy when my friends are happy. I am in deep love with all of your children or children-to-be... but y'all came first. You deserve first-dibs at my heart, and you deserve to be heard.
So... that's that. I love you all more than I can ever tell you. And don't let your kids read this email when they grow up. It's creepy enough being called “Uncle Tom” without this evidence being tied to me.
This is just for us.
Love,
Tommy
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