A Eulogy for the Tooth Fairy

Note: I found this post deep in my drafts folder today. It's never been published before. I wrote this six years ago, about the daughter who is now a senior in high school. I'm fine. It's fine. I just need to cry it out.

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Last night, my oldest child lost her last baby tooth. It showed me everything I needed to know about who she is right now. In spite of knowing the truth about the Tooth Fairy (sort of), she wrote her a note to say goodbye, and thank you.

I say that she "sort of" knows about the Tooth Fairy because while I suspect she is aware of the truth, she hasn't talked about it. Perhaps because she knows once the gig is up, the dollars-for-teeth exchange will end and she dearly loves dollars. And certainly, other sixth graders would not hesitate to enlighten her on the true nature of the mythical, gift-giving characters she has grown up loving. They probably already have. But there's more to it than that. I think she wants to believe because she knows, at least for a little while longer, that she still can.

She avoids discussing any of this with me. Ostensibly because of her little brother and sister and the happiness they derive from it, but also because she's aware that there is power in not saying some things out loud. I think she stays silent because she knows that once it's openly acknowledged - it becomes real. An immutable fact. If she says it out loud, a beloved part of her childhood will truly be over. She isn't ready for that. Neither am I.

But we both know it's coming.

Just a reminder about aggressively happy fall fun...

This is some bullshit right here, you should know that now. The little boy is about to drop that heavy ass pumpkin on his dad's foot, who will scream the f-word in front of a bunch of other's people's kids, and they will all glare at him like he's a monster. The boy will cry for at least 20 minutes because the pumpkin broke and the dad will be furious because his foot is throbbing and the broken pumpkin costs $23. Meanwhile, the sister will whine that her brother "ALWAYS RUINS EVERYTHING" and their mom will hang her head because she just wanted one freaking good photo to post on freaking Facebook. Many hours later, she will sit down with a glass of wine and review the photos she took at the pumpkin patch. She will be in exactly two of them and her eyes will be closed in both. The end.

Friends,

It is October. It is the time of cable-knit sweaters and puffy vests (that let's be honest are always too hot unless you have a fairly serious circulation problem or live in Maine). It is also the time of aggressively happy and attractive outdoor family photos.

When you see all the social media posts this weekend showing beautiful families apple picking and pumpkin patching, just remember what the photos don't show. 

One kid calling his brother a butthole, the other kid crying and refusing to walk up the hill, the sullen teenager staring at their phone the whole time, the dad being like "Wait, these apples cost HOW MUCH?" and the increasingly frustrated mom whisper-hissing "Smile or no one is getting donuts."

It's fine, you're fine, they're fine.

Remember, it's a highlight reel, not real life. It's capturing precious f&*king family memories for posterity and that's awesome. And your family is awesome, too.

Love, Julie

(c) Mommyland Blogs 2013-2020

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Raise your hand if you're a life-ruining monster

This beautiful lady is raising both hands, with a terrific smile, because she's ruined TWO KIDS' lives by making them do homework and keeping them safe, healthy and fed - all while working her ass off and homeschooling them, trapped in the house for months on end during a divisive and terrifying election season and a global pandemic. What an asshole!

Hello friends. 

Raise your hand if you personally have ruined your child's life by making them (choose all that apply):

• Attend in-person school
• Attend school via distance learning
• Cruelly make them social distance/stay home of because of a deadly global pandemic
• Force them to leave the house/deal with other people because your area is out of code red or whatever
• Try to manage whatever this shitshow of a year has thrown at your family

No. 

Wait. 

Stop. 

Go ahead and put that hand down.

I've recently been informed that it's all my fault and all my doing, so you guys can rest easy. I'm the asshole here.

Kind of exciting to find out that I'm some sort of all-powerful omniscient deity that can like - cause global pandemics and million-acre wildfires and stuff. Good to know. And here I was feeling bad about myself because I can't get the laundry done. HA HA HA PROBABLY BECAUSE I WAS BUSY RUINING EVERYONE'S LIFE BY MAKING THEM EAT VEGETABLES AND GO TO BED ON TIME.

(wipes tear)

Kids are fun.

Love, Julie

(c) Mommyland Blogs 2013-2020

Check us out on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram & Pinterest. Better yet - subscribe! Mostly because Facebook is now so dumb that our updates don't even show up in our own feed anymore.

The Ten Year Challenge

The most recent social media trend appears to be reflecting deeply on the past decade and speculating on the personal growth that will occur during the next. This started last month with something called the "Ten Year Challenge.” Here's how that one worked: you find a photo of yourself from 2009 and compare it to a photo from 2019. This was supposed to demonstrate to the world your weight loss, or your progressive journey to total enlightenment, or possibly to provide our big data overlords with opportunities for their nefarious facial recognition efforts.

I'm ashamed to say I succumbed to online pressure and began looking through pictures from 2009. A search of our photo library for that year shows approximately 4,326 photos of my children, 398 of my pets, 47 of my husband (usually with our kids piled on him), and maybe 4 of me. I'd just given birth to my third baby in five years and I was exhausted and deep in The Blur. In most pictures, I'm either hiding from the camera or looking really confused about what the hell was going on.