Here are a few tips for Momzillas in the making; I have learned much from those I’ve known, and I figured that for those who would like to become them, this is a good place to start. This could possibly be a New Year’s resolution, come to think of it! So without further ado, I present to you,

How To Be A Momzilla Without Really Trying
(okay.. maybe a little)

1. Make sure people understand that your child came out of YOU. This can easily be accomplished by bringing up your birth story often and mentioning your vagina euphemistically. If you had a cesarean section, you can still mention the ole vajajay, but make sure you also talk about “the scar” in detail. Bonus points to you if you had a harrowing birth story. And extra bonus points are awarded if you manage to bring the story up every time people are eating. Nothing says Momzilla quite like the minute details of how many times the nurse screwed up your epidural, just how much you were screaming to have the baby taken out of you, or just how big your mucus plug was while the linguine gets cold.

2. Once you’ve established that you GAVE BIRTH TO A BABY –apparently not a common occurrence, given the glazed looks that people give you every time you launch into your birth story– you must establish that YOUR CHILD is… well, how shall we say this? There is no other way: your child is simply the most precocious, bright, beautiful being in existence, and everyone can plainly see it. Brag about that fact often, even when your child is fast asleep and the most precocious thing about him or her is the actual date of birth.

3. If there happen to be other children around –and this is a downside to associating yourself with other mothers and/or potential Momzilla soulmates– be sure to act with a syrupy condescension toward those little inferior souls. They can’t help it if their mommies don’t spend hours coaching them through activities so whenever they are instructed to high-five they give a ten and ask you to keep the change. Be sure to use your scary-witch-face-disguised-as-sweet-baby-voice, so you can point out that Baby Edgar NEVER cries when nice people play with him.

4. If, for some irritating reason, the little mongrel you have a playdate with is ACTUALLY precocious, do not panic. He could be much older than his mother claims he is, or just a very short Russian spy. Gently but firmly undermine every single achievement of that baby’s and feel free to make outlandish claims if the situation gets uncomfortable. For instance, if said baby managed to walk at 10 months while your own walked only until month eleven, cite sex differences, height-to-weight ratio, activity levels and Canadian studies to support why it’s best to learn to walk later –ideally at 11 months. If all else fails, just call any and all comparisons not in your favor “unfair.” Rest assured that whatever is good for the Bible is good for you– unless your child is bound to be the victor in said comparison. In that case, you’re just pointing out a happy truth.

5. As usual, keep yourself well infomed so you can correct anyone and everyone as the need arises. Did someone just say that chocolate is not ideal for babies, even at 12 months? Please! Chocolate? It’s been confirmed a health food, and plus little Madison loved her first taste of Easter bunny at four months! Diaper rash is a sign of allergy? Keep your own battle with the A+D ointment to yourself as you assure other mothers that diaper rash can only ever be caused by a fungus because other mothers don’t change their babies’ diapers often enough. Show pictures; argue; scoff mildly; perfect the one-eyebrow raise; invent more Canadian studies if you must, but drive the message home: you are the mother and you ALWAYS. KNOW. BEST.

6. Have a husband? Make sure you tell charming tales that illustrate in rich detail who truly wears the pants in the household– something that says, “I am friggin’ Rosie the riveter and I have to feed Urkel his pablum because he can barely find his mouth!” Hone your craft until every single item referring to your husband has the effect of a voodoo castration ceremony of sorts. Nothing says “I’m a mom who moms too much” better than an emasculated husband whose only role in the family is that of domesticated stallion.

7. Think diaper bag: don’t just restrict yourself to the basics, please. Sure, the average mom carries diapers, wipes, a couple of toys, maybe hand sanitizer, possibly a changing pad, and some snacks and calls it a bag. But not you: oh no! Make sure that, even if it weighs an additional 10 lbs., you carry a fully stocked pantry in that thing. Keep snacks that are age-appropriate all the way to college– this is a great way to display one-upsmanship in a “subtle” way, when others’ kids start ogling your child’s stash! Keep extra diapers in two sizes. If you can swing it, a box of Kleenex and an extra large bottle of Purell also give off that je ne sais quoi of germophobia that is so charming.

I know that there are far many more Momzilla lessons begging to be committed… er… to paper, but this will have to do. Enjoy your last gasps of 2006!

29 Dec This entry was published on December 29, 2006 at 11:40 am and is filed under Momzillas. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.