Monday, September 16, 2013

I [heart] my broken children. (edited because Blogger hates me)

What the fuck does that mean?

It was a sticker on the back of a mini-van with at least one other sticker on it: NICU Mom.

I saw the "NICU Mom" sticker first and since I've been there myself (no, not for months or years on end, but did my time none-the-less) it caught my attention.  Not quite a warm and fuzzy reaction, but still a feeling of comradery, mutual survival, and so forth (along with thinking it must have been a long stay to commemorate in that way).

And then, then I saw the sticker with "I [heart] my broken children" and I almost literally heard the record player in my head screech into dead quiet. I fail to understand calling your children broken in the public domain.  Perhaps uttered in the darkness of the blackest night when the world feels heaviest upon your shoulders but to put it out there for all, including your children, to see?  I fail to even come close to comprehending how that could ever ever ever be considered okay.
Why not take responsibility for that where it lies: your broken body screwed up your children.  Uncharitable, I know.

More charitably, I can only hope it is meant to be a joke, a poor joke that in the end isn't very funny to those who only see the potential for hurt.

Can someone please explain...because I just don't get it.


  1. I too fail to see the irony, tongue-in-cheek-ness, joke, whatever that might be called.
    Funnily enough, I spent last week at thenursery, trying to get Stevie used to the new routine. One thing I realised is that no matter how theparents are, the children are perfect. How can anyone call them broken?!

  2. Nope. That's just fucked up. *head shake*