Yeah, I know.

by Ashley Weeks Cart

I think I’m going to be bringing back my Annoyance section, in a big way. Primarily because I am a disgruntled, sleep-deprived bitty.

See? Look at me. Being real honest. I’ve got a short fuse and very little patience for my own children, let alone random, adult strangers.

So, for the love of God, if you are one of these said random, adult strangers, or even an adult friend, please, do not, under any circumstances, make commentary on how fucking tired me or my sleep-challenged baby are. We know. We’re living it. As if my greasy hair thrown haphazardly in a ponytail, my spit-up coated sweats and milk-stained regatta t-shirt circa 1993, and the dark bags under my eyes weren’t indication enough, I don’t need you reminding me that I look like hell. Or that my 6-month old looks like hell.

We both feel it.

So, either adhere to Thumper’s motto, “If you can’t say something nice… don’t say nothing at all.” Or lie to me. Tell me you think that I look pretty and am one kick ass mom. And that my baby is the most adorable, well-behaved creature you’ve ever seen. I could use the confidence boost. Anything but reinforcing what I already know to be painfully true.

Also, note to self, do not venture out with both sick children solo, to the grocery store, on a Saturday afternoon. That’s called asking for it.