I like babies. I have one of my own. I like looking at pictures of cute, squishy babies. I am so not above oohing and aahing over some strange kid's apple white monkey cheeks, or squealing with unrestrained delight over newborn baby pictures. But if I hate you? I really don't want to see pictures of your kid. If you do stupid things to your child and take pictures of it, I'm going to be especially disgruntled.
I'm not talking about unconventional haircuts or goofy outfits. I'm ok with mohawks, and it's seriously only because no one will let me near my kid with a pair a scissors that my son doesn't have one. (The one time I asked a professional to give him a mohawk, she looked at me like I was batshit insane, and said "No. Nothing doing.") And I can't pretend for half a second that I never dressed my kid up in some ludicrous costume and took embarassing pictures to show future friends, girlfriends, and possibly employers. But, let's draw a few lines here:
Spiking your four year old's hair up with unreal amounts of gel and taking pictures of him while he yells at you: OK.
Showing cell phone videos of you cornrowing your 3 month old daughter's hair while she screeches because YOU'RE HURTING HER, JACKASS: Not ok.
Doing your kid's halloween makeup "accidentally" the wrong way on his 3rd Halloween and mercilessly teasing him about it: Totally OK.
Putting eyeliner, shadow and lipstick and fucking mascara on your 3 month old daughter: TOTALLY NOT OK.
Letting your 2,3,4 year old run around in his/her dad's/mom's whatever's clothes and trip all over them and laugh at them: Completely acceptable.
Putting your 3 month old daughter in a shirt that says "I'm a hoochie and I learned it from my mama": COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE, even if the second part is totally accurate.
Snuggly yummy baby thigh and neck rolls, or obsessively pinching your toddler's fat little chipmunk cheeks: Totally, completely, and wonderfully ok.
Bragging that your 3 month old daughter is already 28lbs: N.O.T. O.K. I'm not surprised your mom threatened to call social services on you, and if I hear you bitching about it to your friend on the phone at the top of your voice one more time I'm going to call them myself.
(I tried to find a picture of the hoochie shirt online, but no dice. If anyone finds it for me, I will love them forever. I feel like this is the kind of post that needs illustration.)
