���� Chapters cover everything from husbands (��f he could be carried around in a Baby Bjorn all day, he would.�� to other people's kids (��ther people's kids are just useless, bad influences who play no necessary role in our lives.�� to PTA fundraisers (��t brings out the worst in people�地nd who wants an overpriced roll of wrapping paper, anyway? How about something we actually want to buy? Alcohol, for instance.�� Each chapter begins with the best anonymous confessions from Smokler's popular online Confessional.
���� Whether you're a mom, a dad, a grandmother, a grandfather, an aunt, an uncle, a teacher, a godparent, or a teenager in need of birth control, Confessions of a Scary Mommy will be sure to leave you nodding your head in agreement and laughing out loud.
The Scary Mommy Manifesto:
I shall maintain a sense of humor about all things motherhood, for without it, I recognize that I may end up institutionalized. Or, at the very least, completely miserable.
I shall not judge the mother in the grocery store who, upon entering, hits the candy aisle and doles out M&Ms to her screaming toddler. It is simply a survival mechanism.
I shall not compete with the mother who effortlessly bakes from scratch, purees her own baby food, or fashions breathtaking costumes from tissue paper. Motherhood is not a competition. The only ones who lose are the ones who race the fastest.
I shall shoot the parents of the screaming newborn on the airplane looks of compassion rather than resentment. I am fortunate to be able to ditch the kid upon landing. They, however, are not.
I shall never ask any woman whether she is, in fact, expecting. Ever.
I shall not question the mother who is wearing the same yoga pants, flip-flops and t-shirt she wore to school pickup the day before. She has good reason.
I shall never claim to know everything about any child but my own. (Who still remains a mystery to me.)
I shall hold the new babies belonging to friends and family, so they may shower and nap, which is all any new mother really wants.
I shall attempt to not pass down my own messed up body issues to my daughter. She deserves a mother who loves and respects herself; stretch marks, cellulite and all.
I shall not preach the benefits of breastfeeding or circumcision or home schooling or organic food or co-sleeping or crying it out to a fellow mother who has not asked my opinion. It's none of my damn business.
I shall try my hardest to never say never, for I just may end up with a loud-mouthed, bikini clad, water gun shooting toddler of my very own.
I shall remember that no mother is perfect and my children will thrive because, and sometimes even in spite, of me.
