By Christine Organ of www.christineorgan.com
We parents love our photos. And our social media. Nothing wrong with that. Heck, in the shitstorm that is parenting, we have to grab the glimmers of goodness while we can, right?
And because it’s hard enough to hold a baby, grab kitchen shears away from a toddler, and scrub marker off the wall — sometimes all at the same time — let alone take and share a photo, we have to develop mad social media skills on top of it. Hence, the parenting hashtags. Words, spaces, and actual sentences? Ain’t nobody got time for that.
If, like I was, you are a bit befuddled by these words preceded by a pound sign, let me translate a few of the more popular ones. A few of my favorite hashtags — things like #sarcasm, #humorisgood, and #itsokaytolaugh — didn’t make the list, however, mostly because they are so, well, obvious. If we can’t laugh at ourselves sometimes, what else have we got, right? Oh yeah, we’ve got a toddler running through the house with scissors, marker on the wall, and a baby who just spit up down the back of our shirt.
Translation: There’s spit-up on my shoulder. I haven’t washed my hair in three days. My butt cheeks have made a permanent impression in the driver’s seat of the minivan. I stayed up until midnight making a Pinterest-fail cake while I returned work emails. My conversations include words like “sitch” and “kiddos” and “yummers” and I feel like I might actually be losing brain cells, but I’m going to smile and take a selfie because if I don’t pretend it’s awesome all the freaking time, I might collapse into a puddle of tears.
Translation: Farts aren’t actually that funny, but I’ve lost the battle so I’m going to pretend that they are. I’m also going to pretend that I’m okay with the fact that the toilet seat is always up, wrestling is a full-contact, ongoing hobby, and it’s so damn loud all the time.
Translation: Pink princess aren’t actually that cute, but I’ve lost the battle so I’m going to pretend that they’re just adorbs. I’m also going to pretend that I’m okay with the fact that my daughter has more shoes than I do, Barbie’s brood has their own room in our house, and it’s so damn loud all the time.
Translation: I’m actually a little bit of a helicopter parent but too embarrassed to admit it, so I’m going to flaunt my parenting choices.
Translation: I’m actually a little lazy but too embarrassed to admit it, so I’m going to flaunt my parenting choices.
Translation: My kid is a better athlete.
Translation: My kid is smarter.
Translation: My kid is awesome.
Translation: My kid is awesome and it’s because I’m an awesome mom.
Translation: My life is awesome.
Translation: The baby woke up at 4:52. The toddler woke up at 5:12 and immediately found the kitchen shears. The big kid woke up at 5:58 and scribbled marker on the wall. And the tween will be asleep until noon. The living room looks like the house was robbed. I ran out of coffee yesterday. There’s dog poop in the den. And I haven’t slept more than four hours a night in more than a decade. But isn’t family just …oh, who am I kidding? Family life is tough, y’all.
Translation: I have no fucking clue.
Legal disclaimer: The author may or may not have used some or all of the aforementioned hashtags, and the information contained herein shall not be considered author’s endorsement for or admonishment of attachment parenting, helicopter parenting, free range parenting, I-have-no-fucking-clue parenting, or any other parenting style. We’re just trying to make it from coffee time to wine time with more laughter than tears.
About the Author
Christine Organ is the author of “Open Boxes: the gifts of living a full and connected life.” Her work has been published on The New York Times, the Washington Post, Huffington Post, Scary Mommy, Redbook, Good Housekeeping, Mamalode, BonBon Break, and Brain, Child. She writes at www.christineorgan.com.