Working Parent Phrases Decoded
What we say versus what we mean
What we say: I had a great weekend, thanks.
What we really mean: My weekend consisted of carting three children around to various activities ranging from sports (soccer, flag football, and hockey); urgent care (following an injury at said sporting events); two birthday parties (with one crying child in the car because why didn’t they get invited to a birthday party when both their siblings did); the donut shop (to assuage the friendless child’s broken spirits); and the vet (when the tiny dog went to town on the leftover chocolate donuts I thought I was generously bringing home for the rest of the family). I had approximately 36 free minutes, during which I slapped some Queen Helene on my face and watched half an episode of “Top Chef” from three seasons ago because that’s how far behind I am, before falling asleep on the couch with the face mask still on. Sidenote: There’s a good reason why you should follow the instructions to rinse your face mask off after 15 minutes. If you’re wondering what’s up with the eerie, red glow on my face, well, now you know.
What we say: I’m so happy for you that you were able to [fill in the blank with non-parenting activity, i.e., go on that yoga retreat; take that French cooking class; publish your book; lay on the beach all day].
What we really mean: I would have literally zero regrets if I were to slap you in the face with your yoga mat.
What we say: It’s no problem to make that late meeting.
What we really mean: I just have to tell Carrie that I won’t make her championship hockey match that she’s been working towards all season. In addition to breaking her little heart, I will have to find someone to take her to the game and drive her home, as well as figure out how to feed my family dinner when the only person who cooks and is concerned with them eating something that doesn’t resemble bread, cheese, and tomato sauce every night of the week isn’t home. But really, that conference call with Australia to kick the can down the road again is 100% worth it. Can’t wait.
What we say: Yes, I feel so recharged after that vacation and ready to dive back in at work!
What we really mean: I am so stinking exhausted from spending a week in a sticky all-inclusive resort where my children (and everyone else’s) turned into tiny, hyperactive monsters who stayed up hours past their bedtime, demanding 24/7 entertainment and screaming at a fever-pitch with their sugar-infused bloodstreams from approximately 5:36 a.m. when they awoke each day until well after the moon had fully risen in the sky, hence removing any semblance of adult or quiet time. Did I mention that little Jimmy flushed his favorite stuffy down the hotel toilet, ruining both the favorite stuffy and a fairly critical apparatus, while also draining me of my last $50 which I forked over to the very kind super who had to fix the whole mess? And, honestly, it’s not really a family vacation until you get hit in the head with a tepid, overcooked chicken finger.
What we say: Yeah, too bad we have to leave our families to travel to that conference again this year.
What we really mean: I am so freaking excited to sleep in my own bed without two kicking toddlers, a giant hound, and a spouse that snores. I don’t care if it means I have to wear a name badge and make small talk with the most boring people in the world. Have I mentioned room service?!
What we say: It’s all about finding that balance.
What we really mean: The notion of a work-life balance is a big, fat farce, shoved down our throats by capitalists who have nannies and au pairs and chauffeurs and 30-year-old children they never had to parent. There is no balance. There never was and there never will be. So go ahead and pop your Xanax, concede to more screen time, and resign to sleeping when you’re dead.
Allison Hope is a writer who favors humor over sadness, travel over TV, and coffee over sleep. Find her at urbaninbreeding.com and @bubballie on Twitter and Instagram.
