I am trying to be polite so I say: „She is really sweet but, don`t take this personally, she is a litlle bit…slow.“. He stands there in silence for few seconds, then answers: „Yes…She is. I don`t know what`s wrong with her. At first I thought that she`s stoned but now I see she isn`t. She really wasn`t like that before. Really. Can`t understand what happened to her….“.

We are talking about His friend, that He hadn`t see for some time now. And he hadn`t because the mentioned Slowie got married, got pregnant and gave birth (in that order exactly, a miracle!). We met her the other day and she invited us on a cup of coffee, euphorically, and we said yes, of course. At first, I didn`t get it, I thought that it`s just the way she is – little slow, but positive and cheerful, can`t hate her even if you want it to. You know the type.

Beeeeeep! Wrong!

He said that she was always very sharp, quick and everything that comes in the package with and intelligent, creative, witted and funny person. Hm…But now she`s not. Oh, she is funny, but in a different way. She is over-jolly ( playing Puff the Magic Dragon in the background) but you have to  e-x-p-l-a-i-n everything, slooooowly, with all details…Every joke and comment you make are received with a confused look and lots of questions…Exhausting. Very. I mean, she is sweet but… Just too much.

Then the phone ringed last night. I picked it up. On the other line I found a friend, a woman and a mother of a 4 year old girl.

37 minutes. To make it clear: thirty-seven-minute conversation of cooking, various symptoms, the child, it`s health, nurturing and education, upcoming precaution regarding sun, sunburns and everything which represents a danger for a child.

37 minutes until she just stopped. I heard nothing but complete silence for a minute or so. Then I heard a sigh, followed by: „Jesus, how I would like to go alone on a beach this summer, to jump in the water, swim slowly without any pressure, lay on the sand and just enjoy the sun in silenceYou know, not to jump every 2 seconds because the child is thirsty, hungry, because she`s bored, because… Just to enjoy myself. Me, understand? Me.“

Which remembered me on that Slowie with euphoric outbursts. Damn it! I get it! She was high on freedom! That`s it! She made it! She escaped! Only for an hour or two..fresh air, freedom… Doped, stoned, baked, toasted, buzzed, mashed, fried, blitzed…Then I remembered all the others which allowed the grindstone, the ones which allowed that everything is  subjected to their child and house, the ones that don`t exist anymore, the ones that can`t afford to take an hour or two per day of freedom. For a cup of coffee, of undisturbed staring in TV, of reading, of leaving the house alone for an hour where there will be only them, without children….or anything else. Just them.

When I was a kid, my parents were different. They could BREATH. We were outside playing, almost all the time (coming home only to grab a bite). When they were talking we couldn`t interrupt, if they were watching they favorite show – we weren`t crying and banging, yelling that we are bored, that we want to watch a cartoon…Their friends were coming, and we weren`t seeking for attention, they went to work, they were going out… And we turned OK. We really did. So did they.

But this moms… No wonder they lose it every now and then. The only thing they think about are children and home, they can`t remember when was the last time they done something for themselves. They are behaving like they are serving a deity. Prasing. A cult. A cult of a child.

That is a pressure. Coming from the society. It actually demands from the parents to become completly abnormal, to treat their children like they are retarted, because the poor kids just can`t be or do anything by themselves. Well, THAT is retarded and abnormal.

From now on you should do this: the next time your kid starts badgering and crying that he/she is bored, take a deep breath, shrug, and say: „I don` t give a damn. Work something out. Mom will take some time for herself. And don`t bother her for a while. Go, shush!“.

Then go out, lay down, get stoned, whatever.

 Because mom deserves it. Every day.

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