I just read one of the funniest posts I have ever seen, on the plight of the upper middle-class "mommy", who is W-A-Y overscheduled, pressured to provide ever more for her sated offspring and their similarly glutted peers, subject to - gasp! - withering disapproval of other mommies if she doesn't measure up, and, most horrifying of all, - no "time for me".

Iowahawk has created a classic response to the latest upper-class affliction, covered with hysterical urgency by Newsweek.
A short excerpt:
Women who pulled all-nighters hand-painting paper plates for a class party. Who obsessed over the most minute details of playground politics. Who—like myself—appeared to be sleep-walking through life in a state of quiet panic.

Ladies, get a grip. Your life is not a tragedy. The tsunami was a tragedy. The genocide in the Sudan is a tragedy.

I'll give some advice, free. (Which is about what the advice is worth).

Get a life.

A REAL life.

Spend some of that time, not hand-painting paper plates, but working at a soup kitchen. Don't obsess over getting your kid into the "right" pre-school, volunteer at a local school. Your eyes will be opened to what a REAL problem is.

Overweight? Don't waste the time on Pilates, haul a$$ to Meal on Wheels, and deliver the food several flights up, no elevator (not to mention doorman).

Want to get some perspective on your kid's whining? Work a few hours in a Burn Unit. Or a Pediatric Oncology ward. You'll develop the spine to stare down at your kid, and tell him/her, "You don't know how good you've got it."


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