I Can't Believe It Myself, A Defense of Britney Spears
Leave Britney Spears Alone. These are four words I never thought I’d say, not because I have any dislike of Britney Spears, but because I have absolutely no opinion of Britney Spears. I don’t particularly like her music, I’m not inspired by her fashion sense, and I can’t see any reason why she is always in the news. Nevertheless, when I sat down at my computer today and saw the headline “Britney Nearly Drops Baby in Front of Paparazzi,” I must admit that I clicked on it to take a look, to see if she had gone the way of Michael Jackson and dangled the poor little guy out the window. It turns out she was leaving a hotel, when she NOT ONLY STUMBLED, but also BENT LOW and KNOCKED THE BABY’S HAT OFF (yes, the baby’s hat, not the baby’s head). Other important details of this incident: she was carrying a GLASS and her pants were TOO LONG. Apparently she has also let him fall out of the high chair and misused his car seat.
If, after her short reign as a mother, that is the best the press can come up with, she is doing pretty well. I stumble carrying my kids all the time and I’ve never been a headline on Yahoo news. If the paparazzi decided to follow me around, they could have come up with the following headlines just today:
“First Grader Heads to Bus Stop Alone and Reeking of Alcohol! After School, Dejectedly Walks Home From Bus Stop Alone!”
“Feebleminded Mother Forgets Pre-School End of Year Picnic; Arrives Late and Touches Hot Dog Roll with Hand!” and
“Distracted Mother Rushes Bleeding Toddler Inside After Trampoline Accident!”
Yes, today was a banner morning. Fifteen seconds before the bus came, Aislinn was rooting around in a low cabinet in the kitchen for reasons that have still not been explained to me since she had eaten breakfast and her lunch was made. She somehow knocked over and broke a 1.5 liter bottle of wine that was sitting on the floor in a designated beverage holding area near the washing machine (That is the truly puzzling part, since it was sitting on the floor, all it did was tip over, and yet the bottom smashed, leading me to believe that the Australians may be cutting corners when it comes to the glass they are using in their wine bottles). Since Lauren and Marty were up and around, I couldn’t leave the mess in the kitchen to take her to the bus stop without risking one of them coming in to the kitchen. In the best case scenario they would come in to see what had happened and end up with their feet covered in wine. In the worst case scenario they would try to be helpful and clean it up, leading of course to cuts, lacerations, and puddles of blood. So I helped Aislinn on with her back pack, wished her luck on her spelling test, and sent her down the block to the bus stop.
Once I got the wine cleaned up and the other two dressed and out the door, Lauren informed me “Today is the big part-day preschool picnic!” I had seen exactly one notice about the picnic posted in the room, but since I am usually chasing Marty around while I’m there, I’d never had a chance to note the date. I foolishly assumed that the end of preschool picnic would take place near the end of preschool. One of Lauren’s teachers told me “No, that’s why I’ve been saying everyday ‘Don’t forget the end of school picnic on the 26th! Don’t forget the 26th!’” To which I replied “Today is not the 26th.” Then she said “Oh, you’re right, I must be thinking about something else that’s going on that day.” So, I took a moment to determine whether I was going to be the mean mommy who didn’t show up, or if I was going to dump my plans for my precious free time and put in an appearance at the picnic. Of course I went.
At the picnic I was helping to get the plates ready for the kids, and I began putting hot dog buns on plates with my clean but uncovered hands. For some reason, the food service gloves were at the playground, but they rushed a pair over to me so that I would not infect the kiddies (who had just come from a public restroom to sit down outdoors at public picnic tables). (Note: In my own defense, I have been through a lot of health and safety training at previous jobs, and I have never observed untrained people using food service gloves properly. Today was no exception.)
After school Lauren and Marty wanted to go on the trampoline, so I took my book and a chair and sat in the sun while they jumped around. While I was absorbed in the tale of Robert Moses building the Triborough Bridge in New York, Marty knocked his face into the back of Lauren’s head. When I heard the crying and looked up, Lauren was frantically trying to quiet him so that we would not have to leave the trampoline, but he was bleeding so we all went inside. In the hullabaloo, I missed the school bus going by the house and the next thing I knew, Aislinn was coming through the door (and actually, she wasn't looking dejected because she felt very mature walking down the block by herself).
And there you have it. If I was famous, people would be calling child protective services and removing children from my home. Since I am not famous, people seem to understand that this was just a typical day in the life of a typical mom. And that’s just today. Here are some other headlines from my past six years:
“Mother Tosses Baby into Kitchen Light Fixture at Family Gathering!!”
“Mother Completes Clean Sweep as She Inadvertently Pushes Third and Final Child Off a Swing!!!”
“Thuds and Crying Emanate from Local House Where Parents Refuse to Stop Leaving Babies Unattended on Furniture!!”
“Attempting to Get Child’s Attention, Mother Takes Daughter Out at the Ankles!!”
“Trouble in Paradise? Mother Takes Off Engagement Ring, Claims It is Gouging the Babies!!”
“Negligent Mother Let’s Child Jump into Pool and Slip Through Her Hands!!!”
“Is It a Cry For Help? Inattentive Mother Slams Explorer Tailgate on Her Own Head!
I could go on and on (that is, I could if I hadn’t hit my head so hard with the tailgate). If you’ve got short people in the house, particularly the type who are determined to get around and explore, chances are they are going to get hurt and chances are, some of the time, it is going to be your fault. What can you do? Hover? I read recently in Newsweek that hovering is bad, but besides the psychological damage it can do to your kid, it’s really boring.
There are four kinds of people who can claim that they have never made a mistake as a parent: liars; people without children; senile people; and amnesiacs. However, being a member of any of those groups disqualifies you from harshly judging people who are parents. For everyone who is not a member of those groups, if you have a kid, you have made mistakes, big and small on a daily basis, so all this mommy-sniping should stop. I admit I like the superior feeling I get when parents in the neighborhood say completely ridiculous things to their children, or tolerate bad behavior from them. But then I have to remind myself that very few people raise serial killers or other serious criminals, so although parents might inadvertently be encouraging their kids to be annoying in the short term, chances are that overall they are doing enough to turn them into functioning citizens.
So here is what I think about poor Britney: at least she seems to want to spend time with her son. If she left the baby at home, the headlines would scream “Pregnant Britney Out on the Town, What About the Baby??!!!” or “Moving On?? Britney Leaves Son at Home to Focus on Second Baby!!!” Since she takes him everywhere, like every other mother in the world, people want to find something wrong with that. Since she is not sufficiently brooding and aloof for a celebrity, the paparazzi must think she is someone they can topple. Since she is too cheerful and too friendly, people think she is just like them but with more money, so they want to see her brought down and put in her place.
I feel bad for her, and if she doesn’t want to hole up in a compound somewhere, why should she? I have three suggestions for her. First, for goodness sakes, with the money you are making, get yourself a driver and have one of those professional car seat installers come out and put a seat in every car for you. If I won the lottery, the first thing I would do is turn in my driver’s license and let somebody else cart me around. Second, get your son one of those hats with a chin strap so it won’t fall off when you stumble in front of the paparazzi. Finally, stop recording songs with names like “Oops I Did It Again” and “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” That just makes the tabloid writers’ jobs too easy.
If, after her short reign as a mother, that is the best the press can come up with, she is doing pretty well. I stumble carrying my kids all the time and I’ve never been a headline on Yahoo news. If the paparazzi decided to follow me around, they could have come up with the following headlines just today:
“First Grader Heads to Bus Stop Alone and Reeking of Alcohol! After School, Dejectedly Walks Home From Bus Stop Alone!”
“Feebleminded Mother Forgets Pre-School End of Year Picnic; Arrives Late and Touches Hot Dog Roll with Hand!” and
“Distracted Mother Rushes Bleeding Toddler Inside After Trampoline Accident!”
Yes, today was a banner morning. Fifteen seconds before the bus came, Aislinn was rooting around in a low cabinet in the kitchen for reasons that have still not been explained to me since she had eaten breakfast and her lunch was made. She somehow knocked over and broke a 1.5 liter bottle of wine that was sitting on the floor in a designated beverage holding area near the washing machine (That is the truly puzzling part, since it was sitting on the floor, all it did was tip over, and yet the bottom smashed, leading me to believe that the Australians may be cutting corners when it comes to the glass they are using in their wine bottles). Since Lauren and Marty were up and around, I couldn’t leave the mess in the kitchen to take her to the bus stop without risking one of them coming in to the kitchen. In the best case scenario they would come in to see what had happened and end up with their feet covered in wine. In the worst case scenario they would try to be helpful and clean it up, leading of course to cuts, lacerations, and puddles of blood. So I helped Aislinn on with her back pack, wished her luck on her spelling test, and sent her down the block to the bus stop.
Once I got the wine cleaned up and the other two dressed and out the door, Lauren informed me “Today is the big part-day preschool picnic!” I had seen exactly one notice about the picnic posted in the room, but since I am usually chasing Marty around while I’m there, I’d never had a chance to note the date. I foolishly assumed that the end of preschool picnic would take place near the end of preschool. One of Lauren’s teachers told me “No, that’s why I’ve been saying everyday ‘Don’t forget the end of school picnic on the 26th! Don’t forget the 26th!’” To which I replied “Today is not the 26th.” Then she said “Oh, you’re right, I must be thinking about something else that’s going on that day.” So, I took a moment to determine whether I was going to be the mean mommy who didn’t show up, or if I was going to dump my plans for my precious free time and put in an appearance at the picnic. Of course I went.
At the picnic I was helping to get the plates ready for the kids, and I began putting hot dog buns on plates with my clean but uncovered hands. For some reason, the food service gloves were at the playground, but they rushed a pair over to me so that I would not infect the kiddies (who had just come from a public restroom to sit down outdoors at public picnic tables). (Note: In my own defense, I have been through a lot of health and safety training at previous jobs, and I have never observed untrained people using food service gloves properly. Today was no exception.)
After school Lauren and Marty wanted to go on the trampoline, so I took my book and a chair and sat in the sun while they jumped around. While I was absorbed in the tale of Robert Moses building the Triborough Bridge in New York, Marty knocked his face into the back of Lauren’s head. When I heard the crying and looked up, Lauren was frantically trying to quiet him so that we would not have to leave the trampoline, but he was bleeding so we all went inside. In the hullabaloo, I missed the school bus going by the house and the next thing I knew, Aislinn was coming through the door (and actually, she wasn't looking dejected because she felt very mature walking down the block by herself).
And there you have it. If I was famous, people would be calling child protective services and removing children from my home. Since I am not famous, people seem to understand that this was just a typical day in the life of a typical mom. And that’s just today. Here are some other headlines from my past six years:
“Mother Tosses Baby into Kitchen Light Fixture at Family Gathering!!”
“Mother Completes Clean Sweep as She Inadvertently Pushes Third and Final Child Off a Swing!!!”
“Thuds and Crying Emanate from Local House Where Parents Refuse to Stop Leaving Babies Unattended on Furniture!!”
“Attempting to Get Child’s Attention, Mother Takes Daughter Out at the Ankles!!”
“Trouble in Paradise? Mother Takes Off Engagement Ring, Claims It is Gouging the Babies!!”
“Negligent Mother Let’s Child Jump into Pool and Slip Through Her Hands!!!”
“Is It a Cry For Help? Inattentive Mother Slams Explorer Tailgate on Her Own Head!
I could go on and on (that is, I could if I hadn’t hit my head so hard with the tailgate). If you’ve got short people in the house, particularly the type who are determined to get around and explore, chances are they are going to get hurt and chances are, some of the time, it is going to be your fault. What can you do? Hover? I read recently in Newsweek that hovering is bad, but besides the psychological damage it can do to your kid, it’s really boring.
There are four kinds of people who can claim that they have never made a mistake as a parent: liars; people without children; senile people; and amnesiacs. However, being a member of any of those groups disqualifies you from harshly judging people who are parents. For everyone who is not a member of those groups, if you have a kid, you have made mistakes, big and small on a daily basis, so all this mommy-sniping should stop. I admit I like the superior feeling I get when parents in the neighborhood say completely ridiculous things to their children, or tolerate bad behavior from them. But then I have to remind myself that very few people raise serial killers or other serious criminals, so although parents might inadvertently be encouraging their kids to be annoying in the short term, chances are that overall they are doing enough to turn them into functioning citizens.
So here is what I think about poor Britney: at least she seems to want to spend time with her son. If she left the baby at home, the headlines would scream “Pregnant Britney Out on the Town, What About the Baby??!!!” or “Moving On?? Britney Leaves Son at Home to Focus on Second Baby!!!” Since she takes him everywhere, like every other mother in the world, people want to find something wrong with that. Since she is not sufficiently brooding and aloof for a celebrity, the paparazzi must think she is someone they can topple. Since she is too cheerful and too friendly, people think she is just like them but with more money, so they want to see her brought down and put in her place.
I feel bad for her, and if she doesn’t want to hole up in a compound somewhere, why should she? I have three suggestions for her. First, for goodness sakes, with the money you are making, get yourself a driver and have one of those professional car seat installers come out and put a seat in every car for you. If I won the lottery, the first thing I would do is turn in my driver’s license and let somebody else cart me around. Second, get your son one of those hats with a chin strap so it won’t fall off when you stumble in front of the paparazzi. Finally, stop recording songs with names like “Oops I Did It Again” and “Hit Me Baby One More Time.” That just makes the tabloid writers’ jobs too easy.
posted by Shannon at 10:34 PM
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