A Plea To Facebook Moms

Boy, it seems like just yesterday we were sneaking tugs from a pint of Captain Morgan’s behind the shed at Rob’s graduation party.

Remember that? It was back before Dave and Caroline left to work on that organic mushroom farm in Portland.

And before Sue moved out to New York and scored a part in that off-Broadway production of Dr. T & the Women. I think she’s in L.A. now. Have you spoken to her lately?

Oh, that’s right. You’ve been busy. How is the little… guy? Girl? Great, great.

Well listen, that’s actually why I wanted to talk to you. I don’t know quite how to say this, so I guess I’ll just blurt it out: I think you should get off Facebook.

Why? There are plenty of reasons really – not the least of which is the extreme close-up of a veiny bulging stomach that you’ve set as your profile pic – but really it comes down to status updates.

See, every single one of yours is awful, for at least one of these four reasons.

1) It’s about what’s-its-name waking you up

(Ex. “guess brucey’s decided I’m not gettin any sleep 2nite… it’s a good thing he’s so cute lol”)

Look, babies wake up in the middle of the night. That’s basically what they’re famous for. Just give it a bottle, shake it around a bit (I’m not positive on that second part) and it will eventually go back to sleep. And if the issue here is that you’re now wide awake, then perhaps you should find something constructive to do with your time; read a book… poke holes in your husband’s prophylactics… I honestly don’t know what amuses you breeders. Just please fight the urge to clog my Facebook newsfeed.

2) It’s an itinerary

(Ex. “takin brucey to the park, gettin lunch with gram-gram then going to the store for you guessed it, DIAPERS… home at 4 for spongebob lol”)

My issue with this one is simple: I don’t care. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not particularly interested in what most of my Facebook friends have going on – but the fact that you’ve got a kid in the mix means that no matter what you’re doing, it’s the G-rated version. And therefore it’s even less interesting. Going to the movies? No doubt a matinee showing of Rio. Going to a concert? That’s exci– Oh, you’re seeing The Doodlebops? I see…

3) It’s about how you can’t stand to be away from the kid, even for a few hours

(Ex. “hubby’s takin me out for our anniversary! miss brucey already tho”)

We all know that the poor schmoe who impregnated you will spend the evening pounding beers while you regale him with stories about the little “peanut” (or whatever annoying pet name you’ve given it). Maybe it rolled over on its own. Maybe it farted while you were in line at Kroger. Whatever the case, this is your baby daddy’s cross to bear. Not mine.

4) It’s a re-post glorifying moms as the hardest workers on the planet

(Ex. “I work 24 hours a day and never get a weekend off… but its totally worth it ;) re post if your a proud mommy!”)

I won’t poo-poo the fact that being a mom is tough. I’m sure your days are spent longing for less demanding work – like pouring asphalt or digging graves – yet still you soldier on. That’s very noble. But if you truly believe in your “work,” then why the incessant cries for validation? Is it boredom? If so, I’m sure your husband’s prophylactics could use another round of puncturing… Perhaps you could go through old pictures and Lollapalooza ticket stubs and issues of the college paper you used to edit.

These items may remind you of a better time… a time when you had interesting things to say… a time when you were more than just Brucey’s mommy. TC mark

image – sabianmaggy

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