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An Open Letter To Moms At The Park

A hilarious open letter to mothers at the park from my favorite mama blogger, Barbara King!

Dear Mom at the park with the cool ripped jeans and the effortless bun,

Do you want to be my friend? I mean not in a weird creepy stalker way, but in a cool Banana Republic ad way. I was just sitting here on the park bench checking Instagram while my kids run recklessly in the playground – LOL just kidding I would NEVER check my cell phone during precious park playtime! Moms who use cell phones at the park are the WORST right? Anyway, I noticed that your loose creamy-white blouse that probably cost as much as my daughter’s monthly preschool tuition was SPOTLESS despite the fact that you have three kids below the age of 5. How do you do it?? I haven’t worn a light-colored shirt in 1,642 days but who’s counting, right??  NOT ME! I LOVE SACRIFICING EVERYTHING FOR MOTHERHOOD! I AM SO HAPPY! I guess I just assumed that all kids are dirty little stain-making shitheads because my kids can’t be awake more than nine seconds before being caked in yogurt, toothpaste, or cream cheese. I found a pepperoni in my son’s hair yesterday. A pepperoni. Which is weird because a) we haven’t eaten pepperonis in at least a month and b) I give my kids baths religiously every single night because if I ever skipped bath time that would make me a bad mom because good moms bathe their children every single night as part of the bedtime routine they’ve done since age one month and I am a good mom. A GOOD MOM. Um, I think a while back I called my kids shitheads. I did NOT mean shitheads – I usually NEVER even swear – ew curse words are yucky! I meant to say “angel beauties who are my heartbeat,” because that is what those little shitheads are, right??  Anywho, your kids are stain-free walking Tide commercials. Hello Mom of the Year! Hahahah! We could exchange laundering tips over a glass of Sauvignon Blanc while our kids watch Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. Oh yeah, haha I was totally kidding about the wine, I would NEVER drink in front of my kids!! LOL, who needs wine?!!?! NOT ME. And yeah, I mean, duh I read all those articles too and know that TV is Satan’s playtoy. The TV thing was a joke. We don’t even own a TV. We just own a box and use marionettes. A kale wheatgerm smoothie sounds delish while the kids rake white stones in your meditation garden. My kids are definitely patient and mature enough to do that.

All the best,

Mom with the smelly hoodie and my husband’s workout shorts

P.S. Your son – I think I heard you call him Evo? Right, well Evo is eating sand.

Dear Mom with the smelly hoodie and your husband’s workout shorts,

YES I will be your friend! Come over. PLEASE. Bring SauBla or Chard or anything with alcohol. And please feel free to bring DVDs for the kids. TV is actually extraordinarily important for children, I’ve read so many articles and books online, I can’t quite remember where but they all say 4-5 hours of TV a day is very healthy. TV is the equivalent to an apple-sized zinc pill. My 5-year-old is on season 3 of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and she is getting bored so anything different is good. R ratings are OK as long as I can make-up morals as to why characters are crying/naked/shooting/yelling. I am so glad you like the shirt!! I left the kids at the mall play structure this morning to go cry about my life choices in the family bathroom stall for 20 minutes before I jaunted over to Bloomie’s and bought this $298 shirt to make myself feel better. Material items are my Xanax when I’ve run out of Xanax. Don’t worry I doused them head to painted toe with organic non-toxic anti-bacterial gel. And girl – NO WORRIES – I don’t remember the last time I gave my kids a bath. I pretend to have terrible period cramps 22 days out of the month so my husband will deal with baths. HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND PERIODS. I think he is just overtired, and possibly dumb. We pass out at 9pm Every. Single. Night. I used to get crunk in the clubs on the daily and by 4am I was making-out with chicks and dancing on the bar. Oh dear, of course that was a lie. I was always responsible and motherly. I have never danced on a bar. I love my life. And my husband. And of course Evo, Sophie, and the middle one. I can never remember her name. I call her Daisy constantly but HER NAME IS RACHEL.


Mom with the jeans that cost more than your mortgage and the 25-minute bun,

P.S. The sand reminds Evo of the way I cook rice hence I let him eat it so he will love me. I also let the older kids name Evo in the hospital and regret it daily.

Barbara King-Wilson is an actress and writer living with her family in Los Angeles. Follow her @TheBarbaraKing and visit her at!

More from Barbara:

So, Preschool Graduations Are A Thing Now

How I Didn’t (But Really Did) Find The Perfect School

10 Things That Cost The Same As Private School In L.A.

Three Schools You Can Only Find In L.A.

26 Questions To Ask On A School Tour

How I (Almost) Lost My Mind Applying to My Kid’s Elementary Schools

10 Questions L.A. Kids Have Asked Me

3 Signs You’re Ready To Be A Mom

Mommy Choices

2016 Resolutions Reality Check

My Minor Obsession with the PERFECT Holiday Photo

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