Nonsense
Little Miss Mommabear (henceforth known as Mom) has spent much of her life longing for, and dreaming and fantasizing about having a wee wrinkled babe of her very own. She’s thought long and hard about motherhood, questioned herself often, and quite brutally, about her reasons for wanting such a difficult job. She’s done her best to ensure that she’s capable of the love and care, and has concluded that she is, indeed, up to the task of being a mother.
So, she has herself a baby. She has Little Bub.
Enter Good Samaritan (henceforth known as G-Sam).
G-Sam: Ma’am, before you leave the hospital to begin your journey through motherhood, I need you to sign this contract.
Mom: What contract?
G-Sam: Ma’am, it’s a contract stating that you are agreeing to act as Mother, and if you’d please put a date down there at the bottom with your signature so Little Bub here is clear on when your contractual motherhood is up, that’d be great.
Mom: Wha..? There is no expiration date on my motherhood. I’m going to be his mother forever!
G-Sam: Well yes, Ma’am, that’s what they all say, but we know better than that, don’t we? One cannot predict the future, after all.
Mom: I knew exactly what I was getting into before I had myself a Little Bub. Really. I know what I’m doing here.
G-Sam: Indeed Ma’am. That’s what Andrea Yates said, too.
Mom: What?? Who?
G-Sam: Also, Ma’am, I’ll need you to give me a word or phrase that means something special to you. Something easy to remember but perhaps not something you would normally say in the course of a day of mommy-ing.
Mom: A special word? For…?
G-Sam: That would be your Rescue Word, Ma’am. Every new mother must have one. This is the word that you will holler out when you’ve reached your limit on motherhood at that particular time. Now that does not mean you must be finished completely with mothering, only that in that moment, you’ll get to quit. Your partner will have to swoop in and take care of Little Bub while you enjoy chocolate and warm blankets. Once you’re ready to handle Little Bub again, you can have him back.
Mom: Oh for Gods sake. I don’t want or need a Rescue Word. I WANT to be a mother. I can handle this. Why don’t you just go away and leave me alone.
G-Sam: Ma’am, I sincerely do understand your reaction, but this is very necessary. You must understand the dangers that exist with mothering. Many awful things have happened to both mothers and children alike. This is nothing to scoff at! You NEED these safety guidelines or it’s possible you’ll end up throwing your child off a bridge.
Mom: I am NOT going to throw my child off a bridge.
G-Sam: Oh yes Ma’am. You might. It has happened. It happened to my best friend’s sister’s cousin’s ex-wife just last week.
Mom: Well, I am not her and I will not do that.
G-Sam: Ma’am, people change. Things happen. If you don’t believe me, just look up Lam Loung one time. It happened to him, therefore it will happen to you. You denying the use of these safety precautions and pretending like you know everything is only going to put yourself and your Little Bub in harm’s way.
Mom: ~baffled silence~
G-Sam: Now then. If you’re finished objecting to my interference, and after you’ve signed the contract and given me your Rescue Word, if you’d be so kind as to think a moment and write up your list of limits, I’ll be on my merry way.
Mom: Limits? Limits of what??
G-Sam: Well, Ma’am. Your limit list would be a list of all the things that you are not ever willing to do for your Little Bub.
Mom: There is no limit to what I’ll do for him.
G-Sam: Yes Ma’am. Everyone has limits.
Mom: No, there really is nothing I wouldn’t do.
G-Sam: Indeed Ma’am. Well. As we’ve already determined, people do change. And you’re certainly free to adjust these limits as you grow into motherhood. In the meantime though, I’ll need that list, and if you’d categorize that list into both hard and soft limits, that’d be great. Soft limits means you might, under the right circumstance, do that thing for your Bub. Hard limits means you will never do that thing.
Mom: I do not have limits to what I will do for my Bub. Seriously. I’m in this for the long haul.
G-Sam: Ma’am, failure to comply with these safety measures ensures that either you or your Little Bub will be abused. And abuse is illegal. You’re going to end up in jail. Besides, If you do not do motherhood the right way, then you aren’t really doing it at all. You’d just be pretending. You don’t want to just be a pretend, role-playing mother do you? You want to be real and true, right?
Mom: You’re fucking nuts, you know that?
G-Sam: Nuh-uh! You’re nuts! We’re just trying to HELP you! You’re insane if you think you can do this without all these safety measures! You’re giving mothers everywhere a bad name. And all these mothers who have gone before you and have drowned their kids in bathtubs and set them on fire are OFFENDED that you’d dare to think you’re better than they are! They didn’t ask for it to happen, it just DID! Now sign your contract, give me your Rescue Word and make your limit list!
Mom: No. Go ‘way.
G-Sam: Do NOT call me when the shit hits the fan! I will dance a jig when you go to prison!
Mom: Okay.
G-Sam: You’re going to get everything you deserve! I’ll feel sorry for you.
Mom: Okay.
G-Sam: I’ll pray for your safety. You have my pity.
Mom: Okay. Shoo.
G-Sam: ~flounce~
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Monday December 7th, 2009 11:06am
Funny,
and very well written
oh… I see what you did there.
*gasp*
What? What did she do??
The whole contract and rescue word and the limits and the flouncing? oh, you.
clever kaya is clever.
That came through? Well bugger my attempt at subtle snark. Fail!
yes, it came through. At first I thought you were ranting about parents who let their kids run around stores alone. (I teach those children curse words by the way…) But then, G-Sam came into the picture and I was like “O I C whut u did thar”.
[rq=1431439,0,blog][/rq]Operation Clusterfuck…..
Now that’s just foolishness.
You can’t hold motherhood in your hand.
[rq=1426511,0,blog][/rq]Grandma
*sniffle*
Little Bub is just a pint-sized role player??
Silly. If you allow Little Bub access to a phone or computer he can’t possibly exist at all.
[rq=1436268,0,blog][/rq]I Yam What I Yam (and I also like yams)
I wouldn’t do ANYTHING for my kid. For instance, I totally wouldn’t give my kid crack.
Even if he commanded me to. Even if he wanted it and wanted it and cried until he puked he was needin’ the electric kool-aid so bad.
Someone needs to check with the G-Sam and see if that’s a limit.
~Chloe, limiting her own sanity since 1983.
[rq=1427422,0,blog][/rq]No Matter What – Version 2.0
Stop throwing monkey wrenches into my snark afor’en I kick you out of the kaya klub.
Got that?
Shoosh and drink your koolaid.
*beams*
I can’t help it. It’s what I DO.
(I loved your snark btw.)
Also, it’s ELECTRIC kool-aid. You really need to work on your street lingo, yo. (I totally, 100%, absolutely, honestly sat here and googled “street names for crack cocaine” because I am a GIANT tool and I had no idea what one would call crack other than, yanno, crack. I thought “electric kool-aid” was pretty priceless.)
~Chloe
[rq=1429154,0,blog][/rq]No Matter What – Version 2.0
Bwahaha! You forgot the handbook they give you titled “SSC a mothers guide to everything she could ever want, or need, or desire.” very clever kaya. Me likes!
[rq=1427598,0,blog][/rq]*insert clever blog title here!*
that is the most awesome thing i have seen all week, no. month. no. year.
Whatever, it is awesome. If i had been drinking anything my laptop might have died from projectile fluids.
[rq=1427808,0,blog][/rq]Drop What You’re Doing…
I cant shake the nagging feeling that looks all too familiar, Im sure I’ll figure out why at some point
Fabulous analogy – loved it.
I know that this is BDSM snark, but shit..
…where was G-Sam when I had my kid? I WANT A RESCUE WORD FROM PARENTING!
Whew. After that tantrum, I feel better.
[rq=1430132,0,blog][/rq]Public Post
Love your blog! You kick ass and I am not going to tell my Master about your blog because it will give him to many ideas – well maybe I will. No, I won’t. Yes? Oh, hell.
*snickers* Okay, yes, I get the snark…*wails* But I really DO want a safeword from motherhood!!!!
You are so funny! Just caught up on your posts today and am feeling all warm and fuzzy ’cause you’re happy.
Have a great holiday season!
~junebug
Kaya, that was f-ing brilliant.
[rq=1444028,0,blog][/rq]The Bitter Fruit of Disobedience
Kaya,
Oh this is so rich. I’m going to have to watch fet closely to see just who goes appoplectic over this one. I can never think of good snarks. I guess I used up all my imagination writing good stories (and finding ways to mention them offhand hehe).
Dave
HAHAHAHA. Awesome with a side of awesome cake!
Of course if it really happened like this, the new mother would go ‘ooooookay’ and sign and make up a list of limits like ‘I will not throw Lil Bub off a bridge no matter what he wants’ and ‘I refuse to eat dirt pies, but I am willing to pretend,’ and then she’d go home anyway and do exactly what she wants.
Oh, wait, that’s kind of accurate too I guess.
I <3 your snark
rofl. I had to read it twice before I got it. The first time I was just confused. You’re just too damn clever for the likes of me :p
Well done.
I was thinking that maybe there was a twist at the end like when he says, now you can leave the hospital, she says, well, I’m not really a patient here, my baby lives in the UK but the birth mother said I can have it. I will be taking care of it online for a while until we can be together forever.