8 Things I Will Not Write About

Celebrity baby bumps, designer strollers, fake playground trends and other things that are supposedly of interest to 38-year-old mothers like me.

May 10, 2011 at 10:58am | Leave a comment

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I work in an office with a lot of Muppety twentysomethings. Sometimes they IM me for guidance.

Not excessively. But they have questions, you know. About yeast infections, local vintage shopping and where to rent a bus. I’m no messiah, but I’ve been around a little while longer, and I guess I just give off a classic bus-renting, yeasty vibe, like a hippie mom.

Once one of the ladies inquired about my pill of choice. That time I had no answer. The last time I took the pill, it came in a peach-and-white clamshell from Planned Parenthood and was enticingly named Ortho-Novum 1/35. After that I had a refreshingly non-hormonal diaphragm, which was great until somebody stole it from my suitcase at the San Diego airport. To me, “Yaz” is Allison Moyet’s band with Vince Clarke. I don’t know about these patches and rings and shit, either.

You’re not supposed to take that stuff over 35, I wrote back. Moments passed.

But you’re not over 35! she wrote. Exclamation point! As if the idea were unthinkable!

How had I become so old? Why was I not detected? Shouldn’t there be a crystal flashing in my hand? In fact, I was not just over 35 but almost 40 -- far too old to have any useful insights about online dating, boric acid or bondage tape. I should be getting mammograms and laughing with salad.

Along those lines, I refuse discourse on the following topics, which ostensibly interest my demographic:

Celebrity baby bumps

Toddler disco parties

Designer strollers

Fake trends in playgroups and preschools

Babies on airplanes

Kids in bars

Anti-aging makeup

Reality television

These are things about which I couldn’t really give a shit, and that’s not just because my Prozac is constipating. See, I really don’t care.

I don’t care if people, even famous people, get married or have children. I don’t care about the shape of their bodies or the lines on their skin. I don’t care if Shiloh wears Tuffskins and Suri wears heels. I don’t care if your kid’s name means “wise one” in Sanskrit, and it’s no skin off my apple whether you practice slow family living or compulsive retail therapy.

I'm more interested in how actual people keep it going on: their schools open and performing, their families fed, their households calm and happy, their communities healthy, their sanity as intact as possible. However you see fit to achieve those goals, strive for them. And let’s talk about that.