Back in the day when I became a mom for the first time (ahem, seven years ago), there wasn't a lot happening on Facebook yet, and Instagram was just a twinkle in Kevin Systrom's eye. People weren't quite relying on #filters, #selfies or anything else you could hashtag on someone's wall. Back then, if someone had told me they would tag me on my wall, I would have stood outside my house with a baseball bat, terrified that someone was going to come destroy my property. I'm not saying that hashtags don't have the ability to destroy things, but it's usually just my ego, or feelings.
I can't stand these hashtags... and I'm 99.9 percent sure it's because I'm a mom.
I have two children. I haven't experienced date night in about eight years. I say eight, because the year of pregnancy doesn't count as any sort of freedom. Unless I was able to do shots all night long and dance until I couldn't feel my toes without the worry of the next morning, then it wasn't date night. And that hasn't happened in eight years. I just have one question: What does it feel like to talk to an adult?
I love that your family eats organic. I love Whole Foods, too. I actually pureed organic fruits and veggies for the first year of my son's life and was proud of myself for sticking to it. But when your bank account is telling you otherwise and your husband is giving you an ultimatum like getting a second job or waking up at 6:00 a.m. to get your ass to the Farmer's Market every Saturday morning, then the organic fun is over. We had a good run, and I'll always have fond memories of our time together, but it's not the only way to feed my children.
I use to work out before kids -- well, no, that's a lie. I really have only ever worked out in the weeks leading up to a Vegas trip or anything requiring me to wear a bikini. But since having kids, I feel like they are my cardio. My love handles and gut see it differently, but I assure you, I sweat on a daily basis. So while I love seeing photos of you and your man in your tight gym clothes, I can't help but hate the fact that you actually found the time and energy to drive to the gym -- and then follow through by walking through the front doors.
When I joined this "mommy club," I thought we were all going to be, ya know, friends, because we obviously had a lot in common, right? WRONG! Being a mom and seeking other mom friends can actually feel like high school all over again. Except now they just hold up a sign at their table in the cafeteria (or Instagram photo) that says #youcantsitwithus. Can I really NOT sit with you? Are you really going to deny me? What if I have connections, like the PTA? What if I beg?
I used to get spoiled. I used to spoil myself. And back when my husband was my boyfriend, we spoiled each other. The trips, the clothes, the SHOES! I miss shopping for shoes! So to see the newest bag, stilettos or last-minute trip to Cancun pop up on my newsfeed can make a girl contemplate robbing a bank. Good thing I have better judgment than that. I still like to believe that I will be spoiled and able to spoil my husband again one day. But for now, our "spoil" funds must be used for necessities like Superman capes for my 2-year-old and soccer shoes for my 7-year-old. You know, the finer things.
So by using this hashtag, are you really telling me that you're literally not accepting any new friends into your life? Do I really have to be one of those #dayone kind of friends to even talk to you? I'm just so confused when I see this hashtag. I almost want to see if I would be allowed to submit an application to be considered. I have really good credit. I just don't think moms can have too many friends. I really think we could make this work. Unless you're sitting with the #youcantsitwithus girls, because if you are, then fine, I get the hint already!
I love girls' night. Well, I love what girls' night used to be. When I'm with my mom friends, there is a mutual understanding and lingering anxiety that we need to get home at a decent hour. This means no three-hour talks, no alcoholic beverages, and we pass on dessert. When I'm with my friends who don't have kids, I'm the "fun-killer" who announces that I have to be home by 9:00 p.m. I hardly partake in any good conversation and spend most of my time exchanging texts with my husband informing him of where the clean pajamas are. So enjoy your #girlsnight; I'll just be over here living vicariously through your Instagram pictures. I think that Valencia filter looks really good on you, by the way.
Let's be honest, sorry doesn't belong in this hashtag. If you were sorry, you probably wouldn't have posted whatever it is you posted. #sorrynotsorry means, "I know this is making you jealous, and that sucks for you, but I really don't give a sh*t. BOOM." Yes, sometimes it feels like a slap in the face when I see this hashtag, but other times I just realize that you haven't had children yet. And maybe by the time you do, I'll be living a more "normal" adult life (the kind where I sleep), and doing something so incredible that I'll use the #sorrynotsorry hashtag, too. But really, odds are I'll be too old to care and hashtags won't exist anymore. Eh, whatevs.
I'm pretty sure I've never been #onfleek, ever. But if ever there was a time, it most definitely was when I was a #gymrat, getting #spoiled with new clothes and shoes for #datenight and #girlsnight while sitting with my old friends, because, ya know, #nonewfriends, and I was #sorrynotsorry about it. Well, most of that is a lie, but hey, if it means having a beautiful messy house, un-groomed eyebrows, dark roots, dark circles, and adorable effing kids, then honey, I am #onFUHLEEK!
Originally published by Sammiches and Psych Meds