The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

Beyonce’s daughter wore a designer dress that cost thousands of dollars to an award show. Well, alright, I get that many people feel it’s extravagant. I mean, she’s like, four-years-old, right? She probably doesn’t need, and maybe she doesn’t even want, an expensive dress.

When I first saw the pictures and read about the cost of the dress, I will admit that I, too, thought it was a bit much. However, it’s really none of my business how much anyone, Beyonce or the neighbor down the street, spends on his or her daughter’s clothing. Plus, I’ve got more important things to think about such as presidential elections, back-to-school backpack organization, how the heck I’m going to get more sleep, find a “real” job, get my first book published, and how to minimize the lines on my forehead.

Seriously, people, sh*t just got real.

What I find to be most disturbing is the number of tweets, Facebook posts, and online comments all over the Internet that proclaim how “ugly” Beyonce’s daughter is. What in the heck is wrong with people? Most of the online comments were written by grown-a$$ adults who clearly have nothing better to do but to sit around all day long reading entertainment magazines and post crap about someone’s child.

Yes, I said, “Child.”

Blue Ivy is someone’s little kid. She probably plays with dolls, likes to paint, eats chicken nuggets (albeit more than likely made by an authentic organic-certified, highly trained person chef), but still, she is somebody’s baby regardless of who might be cooking her meals, and despite the fact that her parents can afford to buy her expensive dresses.

This child, who isn’t even old enough to attend school yet, is being called “ugly” by adults.

Sickening.

First of all, who are these people who have all the time in the world to sit around and comment about how ugly someone’s kid is, and why can’t they all find something better to do? I’m going to just throw it out there and guess that none of these douchebags are the sharpest tools in the shed. They probably don’t volunteer a lot of their free time helping the homeless or underprivileged. I bet they don’t teach adults to read in their spare time. They seem to me to be jealous, self-absorbed, petulant, immature and cowardly folks who, sitting behind a computer screen, use their words to cause pain, hurt feelings and make themselves feel better by tearing down other people’s kids.

Maybe these people don’t talk badly about their friends’ children. Maybe they don’t even say mean or hurtful things about the children at their kids’ schools or in their own neighborhoods, but only reserve the awful insults for the rich and famous. After all, most of those darn celebrities deserve to hear that hundreds of the “common people” think their kids are hideous, don’t they?

See, I don’t think they do. I don’t think that even if you are Beyonce, the President of the United States, or anyone else in the world, that you deserve or need to hear that there are adults out there who think your kid is ugly. I certainly don’t believe that those celebrities’ kids need to read online one day that numerous people thought that they were ugly children. Who is that going to help, and why do we, as a civilized society, think it’s okay to badmouth someone else’s kid?

It’s one thing to criticize an adult celebrity. I don’t agree with body shaming an adult or even calling an adult celebrity “ugly”, but an adult can fight back. An adult celebrity chooses, in most cases, not all, to post pictures of herself, so she probably knows there will be some negative comments. But when people start picking on children, that’s when my blood boils.

So, here’s my advice for those of you who think it’s perfectly okay to bash someone’s kid…

  1. Get a job.
  2. Go to school.
  3. Look in the mirror.
  4. Spend some time with a child, like, some REAL time. Afterwards ask yourself, “Is it truly okay for me to talk about this child’s looks?”
  5. Go for a walk.
  6. Have some ice cream.
  7. Adopt a shelter animal.
  8. Don’t be a dick.
  9. Don’t be a bitch.
  10. Figure out why you decided to post about how ugly you think a child is, and fix what’s wrong with YOU.

Kids are kids no matter who their parents are. They have feelings, just like the rest of us, and just like your own children do. How would you feel if someone told you that your son or daughter was ugly? What would you do? What would you say?

Stop tearing down children. It’s rude, it’s distasteful, it hurts, and it’s bullying.

If you are an adult, and you post something hurtful online about someone else’s child, you are a bully and you need to grow up. Clearly you have forgotten what it feels like to be called names, and you have lost what it means to be a compassionate human being.

Do better, get you sh*t together, and get a life. You’ll be happier, trust me.

 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Tammi Landry-Gilder

Tammi is an author, wife, mother and blogger who lives in West Bloomfield, Michigan, with her husband, two sons, three dogs, and too many fish in a tank to count.

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Ten boy eating breakfast at kitchen counter

T-minus 44 days until a new beginning- Math has never been my strong suit or my favorite subject, but it will be about 19 years spent rising and trying to shine in our house. Nineteen years of prepping one, two, or all three of our sons to get up and ready for school. Nineteen years of making breakfast. Nineteen years of making lunches. For those of you in the thick of it right now, you know exactly what I mean. I think my husband Steve and I have it down to a science now. If we had to do it...

Keep Reading

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother with three grown daughters

During my oldest daughter’s freshman year of college, I started being haunted by a recurring dream of an old-fashioned suitcase—one of those hard-sided ones that’s as big as they come. In the dream, when I open the suitcase, it’s overflowing with clothing, shoes, and all kinds of stuff that belongs to me and each of my three daughters. Everything in the suitcase is all jumbled together. Nobody else in the dream is worried about sorting through everything, but I am totally stressed about it. To top it all off, I have to deal with this suitcase while preparing for a...

Keep Reading

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

In: Motherhood
Woman sitting with coffee cup and book on bed

I am a proper mom. Not fancy, not prim—practical. I am dressed for the time of day, always. That is simply who I am. Except for this morning. This morning I was in a towel, bracing the bathroom counter, writhing in pain, and trying not to scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors. I had seen a specialist just the day before. He’d said I needed six weeks to heal before they could do further exploration. What he hadn’t said—what I hadn’t understood—was how much the healing itself would hurt. My 23-year-old daughter, Aislyn, found me like that. Panicked. Half-dressed....

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

Good Mothers Bake from Scratch, and Other Lies I’ve Believed

In: Motherhood
Smiling women in selfie outside

I am standing at the kitchen counter, spooning banana mix into a muffin tin, when my daughter makes a proposal. “How about dis . . . ?” Presley begins, pausing for dramatic effect. “How about I put four chocolate chips on each muffin because dat’s how old I am?” I smile at her logic. Once every pink polka-dotted liner is filled with batter and topped with exactly four chocolate chips, I place both tins on the middle rack and set a timer. Presley runs out of the room and returns with her plastic step stool, placing it directly in front...

Keep Reading

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

In: Living, Motherhood
Little boy holding out dandelion bouquet

As moms, we categorize everything. Girl mom. Boy mom. Wine mom. Outdoor mom. Farm mom. City mom. Now there’s been an uptick in social media trends about exposing our girls to worldly and fancy experiences so someday they’re “not impressed by your dusty son.” I won the parenting jackpot (in my humble opinion) and have an older daughter and a younger son. He’s five. Not a grown man making real-world decisions. Not a college kid learning how to adult. He’s five. He loves dinosaurs and Mario. His big sissy and his Great Dane. He is incapable of cruelty and is...

Keep Reading

These Little Moments Are Everything

In: Motherhood
Mother embracing young child who is kissing her cheek

I almost missed it, my little one. How your eyebrows lift in quiet concentration as you carefully place each block, adding a new wall to your tiger castle. The way you say “scoop over, mom” and shuffle closer to me until our legs touch. “Just one second, bud.” The mantra of all busy moms. I almost missed your blonde hair flying wild as you bounce on the trampoline, that belly laugh that makes the whole world feel soft. I almost missed it. How you close your eyes as you crack the biggest, cheekiest smile when I tickle your belly, giggling...

Keep Reading