SGW: Cool Moms

Today's guest post comes to us from Stark.Raving.Mad.Mommy who is awesome and talented and always writes great stuff.  She wrote us a great rant this summer on special needs kiddos.  She pretty much kicks booty and we love her.  Plus she hates Dina Lohan almost as much as Kate...
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Dear Cool Moms,

Stop it. You do not need to be your child's BFF. Your child already has friends. If she doesn't, then drag her away from the Wii and take her to a playground or something. There are kids there. See? Now she has friends.

While you're there, see if there's any moms around. Notice which ones are making an effort to semi-control their kids. They are not cool. And they're okay with that.

Don't worry, it's not too late. You and your daughter are not doomed to be non-famous versions of Dina and Lindsay Lohan. You just need to buck up and start acting like a mom. Here are some tips:

Quit dressing like you did ten fifteen years ago. If you're a mom, you may need to step away from the Deb Shop, Wet Seal, and the entire world of Victoria Secret Pink. You don't look cool. You look like a skank. Please consider not wearing pants with a message -- any message -- stamped on the tush. You may think your velour track pants say "Juicy" but what they really say is "Parenting Fail."

Speaking of pants, if they ride so low you have to attend to your bikini line, they are too low. The low pants thing is a huge problem, I know. It's become hard to find jeans that don't give you the dread plumber's view when you bend down to catch your kid on the slide. This trend is so heinous, it's spawned its own horrifying little trendlet: a product called Backtacular. This gem is marketed as a "gluteal cleft shield." It's actually a bedazzled stick-on tramp stamp used to cover up the coin slot that is your rear cleavage.

My thought is that if you don't have the energy to hitch up your low-riders once in a while, you need to either start drinking more coffee, or buy bigger pants.

Your elementary school child does not need his or her own television, the very latest Playstation, and a cellphone with unlimited texting. This kind of stuff is such a non-starter in my house, my kids don't even ask for it, even though they know eight-year-olds with cell phones. Once the Pork Lo Maniac asked me how old she has to be to get a cell phone. I explained that she can have a cell phone when she's old enough to have a job and buy one herself. She just nodded.

Of course, that made sense to her, because when she was six, I told her she could have Bratz dolls when she's a teenager. Because Bratz dolls do not dress like little girls. They dress like whores teenagers. And in some weird space-time continuum break, the Bratz Babyz dress even whorier.

It just dawned on my daughters last month that when they are teenagers, they probably won't want Bratz dolls any more.

Do not par-tay with your kid. Birthday party at the local bouncy place? Awesome. (Unless it's Ricky's Bouncy Haus of Horror).  Taking your 15-year-old daughter club-hopping? Not so much. Famous mother-daughter teams that have shown, um, lesser judgement include Lynne, Britney, and Jamie Lynn Spears; and Dina, Lindsay, and Ali Lohan. Gahd I feel sorry for those younger siblings. They didn't have a snowball's chance in hell for any semblance of normalcy, did they?

Not partying with your kid doesn't just mean not drinking with them. It means saying no to them sometimes. As in, "no, you may not wear that." Or, "no, you cannot have another bag of Pixie Stix until you come down from that ceiling." Or, "no, you may not move to California and become a crazy-driving drunkaholic pop starlet."

Sometimes your kid needs a time-out. Yes, even your perfect princess. And yes, she may scream at you and tell you she hates you. Suck. It. Up. You are the mom. Kathy Hilton, I’m looking at you. You know what happens when you never put your kid on time out? They turn into vapid, Chihuahua-toting tanorexics that claim that the vial of coke in their purse is “someone else’s.”

So there are my suggestions. Hope they help! Otherwise, I'll look forward to seeing you in the tabloids.

xoxo,

stark. raving. mad. mommy.
 
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