I’ll See Your Unsolicited Advice & Raise You One Middle Finger

Today, a friend texted me upset because some basic moron in her social circle had called out Christians, making the baseless claim that they can’t be both faithful and Democrats.

Friendly note: if you agree with said basic moron, the rest of this post is not for you.

This isn’t about politics; it’s about humanity. Were people always this ridiculous? Intolerant? Driveling idiots with a platform and an opinion, asks the blogger? Is it just me, or does this sort of thing permeate your day, too? I mean, I try to read about all sides of a story, regardless of the topic, because I’m a huge pain in the ass and believe in balanced news. I don’t write off a person for political affiliation, religious beliefs, sexual orientation, race or ethnicity, or any of those other labels we Americans drool over.

I only write off a person if they don’t like dogs. Which is completely reasonable.

Generally speaking, I wait to see a person’s substance before forming an opinion (that no one asked for, I get it) or choosing to have a relationship with them. Maybe I’m living in a dream world, but I really felt like we were coming closer together in honest dialogue, the gaps between us growing smaller. Perhaps that’s just my perception because I’m privileged to belong to a community of people and voices that, for the most part, interact respectfully.

So today, when my pal texted me screen shots of what this “Christian” was spouting off, it touched a nerve. I responded with colorful language and maybe a threat to punch someone in the boob, but I have PMS so it’s allowed. Beyond these small-minded people who exist only within their self-made perimeters, there are kind souls who mean well but just miss the mark every damn time.

Take, for example, all the unsolicited advice thrown at us for fill-in-the-blank-with-any-scenario: Parenting. Teaching. Baking. Playing any sport. Styling hair. Training pets. Managing our time. Living our lives. Producing more regular bowel movements.

I know, I know–they’re just trying to help! And that’s fine, until it’s not.

Speaking personally, a recent concern of particular importance seems to be how I’ll maintain my current level of existence while writing a book. Some super unhelpful advice was to simply wake up earlier. Sounds easy enough! I thought about it. I mulled it over. I eventually rejected it and here’s why.

Every time I’ve expressed a desire to fit anything else into my life, the consensus is to wake up earlier. If I listened to everyone whose time management Band Aid is opening my eyes sooner in the morning, I’d be a zombie.

On weekdays, I have to be done doing me by 7:00, when I begin focusing on my children’s needs. I am quite content ignoring them until this time. So using 7:00 as a hard stop time, let’s look at what the morning would be if I, in fact, woke up earlier for allllll the things:

I try to exercise for 30 minutes a day, so I’d be up at 6:30 to fit it in by 7:00.

No biggie. Oh, but wait. I’ve also prioritized writing for one uninterrupted hour every morning, so that has me up at 5:30. Not awful, but…

Oops, I forgot about my version of self-care, which looks a lot like me sitting in quiet with a cup of coffee and reading something inspirational. Or scrolling through Instagram. I’ll sacrifice some of that time, giving myself only 15 minutes. Now I’m up at 5:15. Again, not awful.

Dang, I forgot I stink. Because of the work-out, remember? So I have to pencil in shower time. I’ve got to allot at least 15 minutes for a shower, 15 minutes to half blow dry and dress. That’s another 30 minutes. I am now waking up at 4:45. Whaddya know?! That’s when my husband wakes up! How sweet, we could rise and shine together! Except while he jumps out of bed every morning, loving life, I do not function this way. I’m more of a speak to me before I’m ready and I’ll cut you kind of morning person. I accomplish more in the evenings and do not fall asleep sitting up at 7:30 PM like some people. Ahem.

Now let’s look at the time between when I shut my eyes at night and when my alarm goes off in the morning, which is apparently now 4:45.

Pretending all three kids are asleep by 8:30 gives me 30 minutes to finish folding laundry, cleaning up the kitchen, collecting stray socks I keep finding on my motherf*cking counter tops. WHO PUTS SOCKS ON THE COUNTER? Animals, that’s who! Animals who wear socks.

Whoa. That one got away from me.

Anyway, there’s always about 30 minutes of “finishing” to do, and then I either watch TV with the husband, read, or try to fit in extra writing. Let’s just say I’m in bed by 10:30, my internal clock accustomed to zonking out around 11:00. These things are what almost always wake me at various points:

• the kids need something in the middle of the night; they come to my side of the bed
• my brain won’t turn off
• inspiration strikes and I have to scribble notes in my bedside notebook
• I think I hear our dogs, which makes me sad and then I cry and sometimes grab my phone to look at rescues’ pictures and scheme hard to bring them all home
• my husband’s incessant snoring–on the inhale and exhale; I fight the urge to smother him with a pillow
• I have to pee. Again.

Waking so often wouldn’t be so bad if I could just go back to sleep without running a mental marathon, but nooooo. My claim to fame is 2 AM cold wake-up, followed by at least 60 minutes of tossing and turning and peeing. Not all at the same time, mind you.

So by the time 4:45 rolls around, I’ll have likely slept for a solid four hours and I’m sorry, but four hours does not a pleasant mama make. I truly believe I need at least 7 hours of solid sleep and I can’t remember for the life of me the last time I got it. I hear every sneeze, sniffle, snore; I think I hear every jingle, knock, and rustle. I am NOT a good sleeper, so when a person tells me to cut out more of the precious shut-eye I do get, I get a little stabby. I get a little incensed because you don’t know me! You can’t just assume because what works for you–or even a bunch of other people–will work for me. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach to people! For the love of humanity, we’re called individuals for a reason! So when you spout off nonsense pretending it’s fact, when you tell me Christians can’t be Democrats or Muslims can’t be kind or transgenders don’t exist, I get a little stabby. I get a little incensed. I get a little feeling you must be the kind of person who doesn’t like dogs.