Zero Effs Mom

The Revolution is well underway, people. It’s no longer a grassroots movement. Bully moms everywhere are feeling the heat as the Zero-Effs moms climb out from under the rocks of humiliation dropped on them over the years for not living up to the pretentious expectations of “society” and band together in a perfectly imperfect sisterhood of normalcy.

Even Hollywood is glamorizing us with movies like “Bad Moms” and fulfilling my dream of being played by Mila Kunis in a movie about my life. The Zero Effs mom is becoming a modern day folk hero, the Robin Hood of our time, stealing pride back from arrogant biatches and returning self-esteem to those just trying to do their best.

But as it becomes more mainstream to fight the oppressive parental expectations we’ll never live up to, I beg you – don’t celebrate me because my bag of effs is empty. I’m not this way to be cool or trendy. I doubt any of us are. It comes from pain. It comes from embarrassment. It comes from humiliation. And from that pain, embarrassment, and humiliation we realize that we are still standing. We realize that we don’t have the luxury of giving up. We have life to live and a family to raise. We have things to do. How we do those things is none of your effing business. So get out of my way or get run over.

I started life with a bag overflowing of effs. I handed them out like candy. I was the Opera of effs. “YOU get an eff! And YOU get an eff! And YOU, take four!” I gave 1/4th of them to the mean girls in middle school, trying to be cool. I gave ½ of them to my first husband. Which leaves me with 1/4th of the effs God gave me. Those are very precious, limited edition effs reserved for my family. I got none to waste.

Honestly, it’s not just the way I interact with other parents. It’s the way I live. And it’s liberating. Do what you do and let me do what I do. Celebrate the non-judgment. If you want to hand-make all of your baby food, refuse to allow anyone to drive your child without a car seat installed by a fireman, or only allow your child to play with hypoallergenic designer puppies, that’s your prerogative. I won’t judge you for it. But don’t judge me for wanting my kids to go on road trips with friends, experience a Twinkie, and know the feeling of rescuing a dog from the pound.

If I hear judgment of me or anyone else, I will not only call it out, I will ensure the biatch receives the verbal assault I didn’t have in my arsenal as an 8th grader with the self-esteem I didn’t have in my first marriage. Not to be mean. That’s not my intent. It’s to tell the bullies of the world to move on. Go somewhere else. Like Hell.

The Zero Effs moms aren’t perfect. And we know you aren’t either. And your neighbor isn’t either. And the PTO president isn’t either. The kicker: your babies don’t want or need perfection. They need and want you. So know you’re good enough, stock your arsenal with some self-esteem, and tell Tiphi to shut the eff up.

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