You got this, mama…

Is anyone else at all getting tired of those trite, simpering videos and blog posts going around? Starry eyed adoration and revelling in motherhood,  filled with sickly sweet, patronising encouragement that was neither sought or welcome.

This recent one, by Motherly, has actually driven me back to blogging after three years of solely keeping babies alive. It takes the form of a teary eyed letter from an adoring mother to the future wife of her darling son. It even comes with a patronising side dish of pop-up, that ambushes me, the reader and clearly a ‘mama’. It says: “Hey mama. You got this. (promise).” and ends with “XO. Team Motherly”. Well now. I’m thrilled. A website promised me I’m doing a good job. I must be just nailing this parenting stuff, despite the fact that I’m wasting time on this website and deliberately not paying attention to my toddler who is hell bent on sending herself to Temple Street, while praying for bed time.

I digress. So this video in question, that has tipped my patience over the edge when it comes to nauseating Facebook sharables, starts: “To the person who falls in love with my son, I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be giving you this letter.” STOP. Please say: never. The last thing he or she needs is a threatening letter of warning from the mother in law. But no, she persists:

“Right now he chooses me. He chooses me to play race cars with and to read books with,” crows the letter, over images of mammies putting hats joyfully on cooperative chubby cheeked cherubs. “He likes my lunches better than the ones his school makes. He wants me to be the last one to kiss him goodnight.But one day, he will choose you. He’ll want to spend his days off with you, go on adventures with you, cook for you. And the thing is, all of this is okay. It’s wonderful in fact.”

Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise. You’re fooling nobody, ma-in-law… for starters he never liked your lunches. And for seconds, nope. Not buying it.

So I release my pent up sarcasm and three years of silence and offer you the actual subtext of that video:

“”A warning to the person who my son tries to run off with someday: right now he is still little and i’m doing my best to keep him that way. So that one day, when you find each other, he can shower you with his demands for washing, cooking and attention. Because he’s growing up faster than I’m prepared for. Right now he chooses me, he comes to me for help and to snuggle when he’s sick. But one day he will try to choose you. And as his mama all that I can wish for is that you disappear and die. To you, the person who ‘falls in love’ with my son, I promise to make your life hell too. And when that time comes, I will be so proud of him and so conniving and bitchy to the person he chose I will drive them away.”

Oh, she’s got this alright. Promise. Question is, has the future spouse in law got enough sense to run?




For Irish learner drivers, speed limits are targets

Just a comment on Irish speed limits. Last night a wee boy was killed in a housing estate in Kilkenny, where apparently the residents had been trying to put up speed bumps for years. We have a similar speed issue in our place here in Dublin, where I see kids on bikes every day and motorists playing F1. Everyone sane of mind knows that in an estate, the likely scenario is that a child will jump out in front of the car so most people drive accordingly… I would hope.

Now – I’d like to contrast this with the way Irish learner drivers are being taught to drive. Apparently here, you are marked down for ‘progression’ if you go down a narrow and very residential road where the limit is 50 km/h at say 30 km/h because you’re afraid of killing a kid. I let you ponder the folly of that for a moment: you are told to speed up and hit the speed limit and you are marked down.

When I heard that, I’ll tell you steam came out my ears. I’d kick an instructor out of my car for saying something so stupid. Speed limits are not targets. The government says so. The driving instruction system of this country, however says different. *hits head against brick wall*