Dear Elton John,
I'm so happy you have your own little Tiny Dancer at home. I've been rooting for you ever since I found out you and hubby David Furnish were testing the adoption waters. But now that little Zachary Jackson Levon Furnish-John is here, I have to beg a favor. Can you tone it down a little?
You're making the rest of us parents look bad. I read today that you "love the smell of nappies." Elton. Honey. We get that you don't want to be that prototypical dad badly portrayed in those stock photos of a badly dressed dude with a horrified expression on his face and a clothespin on his nose changing his kid's first diaper. You're a true rocket, er, renaissance man. But nobody in their right mind enjoys the smell of human feces.
Get that? No one.
Freshly bathed baby? Right there with you. I still grab a bottle of Johnson's to use when I shave my head and don't need real shampoo. It brings back the memories and practically brings tears to my eyes. I like to pretend it's the water droplets from the shower, but you've been honest with us. I'll be honest with you. I still get all weepy thinking of where the time has gone since my little girl was born.
I'll even give you the scent of Play-Doh smushed in the hair. There are some who will dab it behind the ears on date night just to feel like they've got the little bumpkin along. Then there's the odor of dry Cheerio dust in the nostrils. The smell of rash cream caked under your fingernails.
But make no mistake about it. Shit still smells like ... shit. Even coming out of something as cute as little Zachary (and I've seen the US Weekly cover that you've papered your place with -- he is one sweet looking bundle).
And while we're on the subject of US Weekly, can I trouble you to share a few tips with us moms on not feeling like a frazzled freak of nature in these postpartum weeks? Because here I am in my sweatshirt and jeans with a 5-year-old, and there you are looking like a cool cat with a 1-month-old telling the magazine:
It's been very relaxing because this little soul that you're feeding and you're changing and you're bathing and you're telling bedtime stories to is a blank palette, a blank canvas and all he needs is love and nurturing, which is the most wonderful feeling.
Wonderful? Absolutely on the money. No wonder they pay you the big bucks for your lyrics. But relaxing? Please share a little bit of what you're smoking, honey, because I can NOT feel the love tonight.
That little blank canvas needs your love and nurturing, and you're supposed to be feeling like a neurotic mess who can never live up to the expectations of parenting! Gah! Maybe it's all those diapers you've been sniffing? They went straight to your head and fried your brain. Welcome to parenting, it's a hell of a trip!
Love and Kisses for That Cute Bundle,
A Mom Who Got Down and Kissed the Floor the Day Her Kid Potty Trained and She No Longer Had to Wipe a Butt
Image via US Weekly