I have decided that the balance of power in my house has shifted in an unsettling way. I know that I am being terribly inconsistent in my mothering and I am now paying a price for it. Sprout has become a bit of a tyrant and I have only myself to blame. I have a tendency to respond to requests, aka demands, in an often hasty way. After rethinking my original "NO", it occurs to me that maybe I really don't give a shit. The result is coming off incredibly wishy washy and making me an easy mark. Even Pavlov's dogs knew that if you kept pressing the button long enough you would get results. Kids can smell weakness. It was after Sprout casually requested/demanded that I "Fluff her pillow" that I realized the true error of my ways. Mea Culpa, I give in.
But.....
Recently I watched an unsettling episode of Dr. Phil, that had me seeing Ghosts of Future Impending Doom if we keep moving along this same path. This woman and her 14 year old daughter yelled, screamed, and hit each other during arguments. There was no sense of understanding or trust. There was enormous disrespect. It made me sad. I thought, Jesus, what does it take to disintegrate a relationship that much.
I have always had a close relationship with my mom. I rely on her wisdom and patience always. It would devastate me if my own daughter didn't trust and respect me in a similar fashion.
So...
I am dropping the hammer and taking the power back from my tyrant.
One of the things that drives me the most crazy, yet is completely within my control is the meal situation. There are many days when I feel as though I should have a Bee Hive and a name tag that reads Flo. Serving up snacks with a sarcastic response and a scowl. That's not fun...enter THE SCHEDULE.
I have tried to establish meal times and was successful up to a point. Somehow it got out of control. The constant request for a snack was becoming ridiculous. "You can't have a snack. It's lunchtime." "I don't want LUNCH. I want a SNACK!" So, now I find myself arguing semantics with a four year old.
So I decided let's just put it in writing and silly little clip art pictures for the illiterate ones. I have to say she seemed to take to it quickly. Perhaps she is lulling me into a false sense of security or just thankful for some decision. But we were in bed on time with a 2 story max and just one song. Well okay one and a round of Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts. We'll see what tomorrow brings...
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
VACATION!
I got my period today. For many of you that may seem like a mundane duoduel occurrence. For me a ticket to freedom. I have been pissing and moaning for some time now that I am in serious need of a vacation. For many folks who have children this yearly rite of passage conjures images of Disneyworld, family friendly resorts, etc...for me it entails white sand beaches, swim up bars and 7 blissful days of alone time. Thanks to a long lost life insurance policy taken out by overly pragmatic parents I will be spending a week baking in the caribbean sun sipping on highly alcoholic beverages and smoking illicit drugs on a white sand beach. I am counting the days...Have I mentioned that it has been SEVEN years since I have been on a vacation.
Now vacation means different things to different people. For me it means not worrying about a god damn thing. No one asking me for anything, needing me to do anything. Pure mindlessness....so in essence this means going on vacation sans child and husband. I will be basking in the company of my brother and in-laws.
Do I feel badly leaving Sprout at home...no. I think that the week she will spend with her father will not only bring their relationship closer together and form concrete bonds, it will also give Daddy a true idea of what Mommy deals with all day everyday. So come January I will bid them adieu and come home in a much more amiable state of mind and who knows, maybe junior will find a way into our lives after all.
Now vacation means different things to different people. For me it means not worrying about a god damn thing. No one asking me for anything, needing me to do anything. Pure mindlessness....so in essence this means going on vacation sans child and husband. I will be basking in the company of my brother and in-laws.
Do I feel badly leaving Sprout at home...no. I think that the week she will spend with her father will not only bring their relationship closer together and form concrete bonds, it will also give Daddy a true idea of what Mommy deals with all day everyday. So come January I will bid them adieu and come home in a much more amiable state of mind and who knows, maybe junior will find a way into our lives after all.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Retention
My husband and I are extremely anal expulsive. It is for this reason I am at a complete loss when I try to figure our where my finicky daughter came from. Was she planted by aliens? Did she hatch from an egg? She is quite literally anal retentive, in that she will not shit for 6 days at a clip. Not only is she poop challenged, everything is an issue.
Today we went to the beach. It is a beautiful, dry, warm spring day. Just right for looking for shells to add to our collection. Upon arrival at the beach, I am informed that it is too sunny. Walking along the beach yielded protests of it being too sandy. Well that was fun. We left after 15 minutes.
The previous day, Sprout had left her doll carriage in the backyard. I told her to go get. Most children would gleefully kick up their heels and run out and collect their toy, not my child. Why? Because she was shoeless and would have to walk across the grass.
Holy hell! I deal with issues all day long...There is water on my shirt, my hands are wet, those are the wrong color snacks. I feel as though the fun of her youth is being sucked out of her from all of these grievances. I sure as hell know its sucking the fun from me.
Today we went to the beach. It is a beautiful, dry, warm spring day. Just right for looking for shells to add to our collection. Upon arrival at the beach, I am informed that it is too sunny. Walking along the beach yielded protests of it being too sandy. Well that was fun. We left after 15 minutes.
The previous day, Sprout had left her doll carriage in the backyard. I told her to go get. Most children would gleefully kick up their heels and run out and collect their toy, not my child. Why? Because she was shoeless and would have to walk across the grass.
Holy hell! I deal with issues all day long...There is water on my shirt, my hands are wet, those are the wrong color snacks. I feel as though the fun of her youth is being sucked out of her from all of these grievances. I sure as hell know its sucking the fun from me.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
To Procreate or Not to Procreate
So I am really on the fence about having another kid. I find myself questioning my ability to divide what little of myself is left into further pieces. Is there any more left to give?
I see my life verging in two different directions with the choice of having one and having two and its the debate over which path will bring peace and contentment to everyone involved. Hmmm, let's see. Pro's and Cons? Feel free to chime in if you have a viewpoint I may have overlooked.
PRO?
i probably would have been a markedly different person if I grew up as an only child and I am sure more different yet if I was the older sibling in a duo. I can say that being a younger sibling has been both a pleasure and a pain. My dear brother beat the crap out of me mentally and physically, but he also took me to my first keg party and even made sure I got home alive... I always find it ironic, that 2 people living in the same house at the same time with the same parents can have such a completely different life experiences. So I guess the question is will Sprout be better off with a sibling or without. I have to give this a big BETTER WITH. I love my Brother and when the parents become invalids, he will be just as responsible :) But, fuck I have the attic...
PRO?
The age difference... if I was to get preggers tomorrow, would be 5 years. So Sprout would be in Kindergarten, holy hell, when did that happen? And the new one, we shall call it the new one, although it may be a whole lot of fun to have a boy, although my girl is super cool. Either way, the fact that I can imagine the little guy/girl in our lives must mean something. I would love to add to this mix. If they were any closer in age I might need to be in an institution. Although as I spoke with an old friend, I realized that had they been closer together they could now entertain each other as opposed to fight constantly over what ever play thing the other is holding. Maybe 5 years is too much time in between....ahhhhh!
CON
I feel as though I should enter a pie chart here. The division of myself. If I was to break it down hourly per day. I wake at 7:30 and between that hour and the 8 O'clock pm hour give or take an hour, I have zero time or space to myself. I go to the bathroom and children are there. If the kids are not jockeying for my attention or my personal space they are asking for something to eat, something to entertain them, encompassing every moment of time. This time overlaps with hubby time. If I am lucky I may get 2 hours alone. Perhaps some people would say this is an abundance of time, but for me it is overwhelming.
I could go on and I am sure I will, but my bed beckons, an hour later than usual, since sprout was not interested in going to bed before nine and someone needed their back scratched. I will probably read for an hour and fall asleep only to be awoken 6 hours later by the angelic sounds of "Mommy, I'm awake" :/
I see my life verging in two different directions with the choice of having one and having two and its the debate over which path will bring peace and contentment to everyone involved. Hmmm, let's see. Pro's and Cons? Feel free to chime in if you have a viewpoint I may have overlooked.
PRO?
i probably would have been a markedly different person if I grew up as an only child and I am sure more different yet if I was the older sibling in a duo. I can say that being a younger sibling has been both a pleasure and a pain. My dear brother beat the crap out of me mentally and physically, but he also took me to my first keg party and even made sure I got home alive... I always find it ironic, that 2 people living in the same house at the same time with the same parents can have such a completely different life experiences. So I guess the question is will Sprout be better off with a sibling or without. I have to give this a big BETTER WITH. I love my Brother and when the parents become invalids, he will be just as responsible :) But, fuck I have the attic...
PRO?
The age difference... if I was to get preggers tomorrow, would be 5 years. So Sprout would be in Kindergarten, holy hell, when did that happen? And the new one, we shall call it the new one, although it may be a whole lot of fun to have a boy, although my girl is super cool. Either way, the fact that I can imagine the little guy/girl in our lives must mean something. I would love to add to this mix. If they were any closer in age I might need to be in an institution. Although as I spoke with an old friend, I realized that had they been closer together they could now entertain each other as opposed to fight constantly over what ever play thing the other is holding. Maybe 5 years is too much time in between....ahhhhh!
CON
I feel as though I should enter a pie chart here. The division of myself. If I was to break it down hourly per day. I wake at 7:30 and between that hour and the 8 O'clock pm hour give or take an hour, I have zero time or space to myself. I go to the bathroom and children are there. If the kids are not jockeying for my attention or my personal space they are asking for something to eat, something to entertain them, encompassing every moment of time. This time overlaps with hubby time. If I am lucky I may get 2 hours alone. Perhaps some people would say this is an abundance of time, but for me it is overwhelming.
I could go on and I am sure I will, but my bed beckons, an hour later than usual, since sprout was not interested in going to bed before nine and someone needed their back scratched. I will probably read for an hour and fall asleep only to be awoken 6 hours later by the angelic sounds of "Mommy, I'm awake" :/
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Devil Wears Carters
The one thing that drives me the most insane on a daily basis is the unrelenting barrage of whining. Every word all day long is pronounced in a tone akin to a firetruck siren. "IIIIII'mmmmmm awwwwwake." "I don't want thaaaaat to eat", "your hands are weeeeeeett" I know that I am contributing to this behavior in some way. I suppose that I should just tune it out, ignore it. Have you ever tried ignoring having bamboo shoots jammed under your fingernails?
All the experts say to be consistent. Do these same professionals have an RX pad readily available for the high dose of valium I might need in order to cope with this fluency in whinese?
We have tried to illustrate to sprout just how annoying this whining is..."I don't waaaaaannnnnt to pay the bills", Whhhhhhhhy do I have to go to wooooooork" "Whhaaaaaaat do you waaaaannnnnt for dinnnnnnner"
I am hoping this is a stage and I will continue to repeat my mantra of "Love them the most when they are the least lovable" God Speed.
All the experts say to be consistent. Do these same professionals have an RX pad readily available for the high dose of valium I might need in order to cope with this fluency in whinese?
We have tried to illustrate to sprout just how annoying this whining is..."I don't waaaaaannnnnt to pay the bills", Whhhhhhhhy do I have to go to wooooooork" "Whhaaaaaaat do you waaaaannnnnt for dinnnnnnner"
I am hoping this is a stage and I will continue to repeat my mantra of "Love them the most when they are the least lovable" God Speed.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Peanuts VS. Walnuts
I think I have neglected to mention that aside from my own certifiable nut I am responsible for a smaller and even crazier nut. My brother and sister-in-law both work full-time. They have left their darling off-spring in my care. We shall call her peanut. Peanut came into my care at 4 months of age. She is now 20 months old and basically I would describe her as a bull in a china shop. Incredibly dexterous and equally intelligent she gives me a bigger run for my money than my own. Combine the two and it is like napalm. Everyday from 7:30am until 5:30 pm the two nuts are fighting, hugging, laughing, crying and generally making me laugh and simultaneously sending me to an early grave.
I think both of them are far better off for the experience of growing up together. They are learning to share, the importance of family and what it like to have a sibling. They love each other and drive each other crazy.
I am learning what it is like to have 2 children and wonder if adding one of my own might throw me over the edge. Along with the added stress of simply managing two children physically come the challenges of meeting both of these kids needs emotionally. Do I favor my own? Am I too hard on peanut because she not mine and a little nutty? Does she get enough love and guidance while here? Will she think back fondly on her time with "mama", I mean auntie? So instead of wrestling with the normal am I being a good mother guestions I am now saddled with Am I a good Aunt questions.
Where is my wine?
I think both of them are far better off for the experience of growing up together. They are learning to share, the importance of family and what it like to have a sibling. They love each other and drive each other crazy.
I am learning what it is like to have 2 children and wonder if adding one of my own might throw me over the edge. Along with the added stress of simply managing two children physically come the challenges of meeting both of these kids needs emotionally. Do I favor my own? Am I too hard on peanut because she not mine and a little nutty? Does she get enough love and guidance while here? Will she think back fondly on her time with "mama", I mean auntie? So instead of wrestling with the normal am I being a good mother guestions I am now saddled with Am I a good Aunt questions.
Where is my wine?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Dog Days
I have a dog. I love her. She is going to be 13. I have had her since she was 10 weeks old. As someone against puppy mills and pet stores, I have to admit that is where our relationship began. My only excuse, I knew no better. When I first met her at 8 weeks, she suffered from a dastardly case of kennel cough that left me heartbroken and in love. I had to save this poor pup from her meager existence at "puppy love". Nearly 13 years later Molly experiences occasional bouts of incontinence, a horrible case of allergies and a serious sense of entitlement. In her golden years I want the best for her and to indulge certain behaviors, yet I find myself taxed by her non-human needs. After all I have 2 small children and a demanding husband sucking the life from me...uh, I mean, loving me. I am guilty.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Now and Then
March 17, 1992
I wake with a yawn and a stretch at the ungodly hour of 7 am running on fumes from the night before. Quickly I shower, not really understanding why, since the day is sure to be wrought with foul odors and spilled beer. It is St. Patrick's Day in Oneonta, NY. I am in a race against the clock. I throw on heavy boots and a giant wool sweater, you know the ones that smell like sheep and are seen in abundance at Dead shows. There is 2 feet of snow on the ground. Quickly I locate the whereabouts of my illegal identification that says that I am 21 and hit the road. It is very important to get in line for General Clinton's Pub, but 7:30am, to ensure that you are one of the lucky recipients of their annual St. Patty Day T-shirts. The line is 50 people strong....
March 17, 2011
I wake with a growl and a stretch at the ungodly hour of 7am to a small voice exclaiming that. "Mommy, I am awake." Wiping the sleep from my eye I begin my Groundhog Day existence of doing the same thing I did yesterday. Today I decide that maybe I will actually shower since my hair is beginning to hurt. I toast some waffles, cut up some fruit and feed the animals waiting for their meal. Several minutes later I am wiping someone's butt and refereeing the latest dispute over anything and everything. Lunch is served and thankfully it is a school day. I drop Sprout for her meager 3 hour hiatus and return shortly to retrieve her. I make a small detour at the liquor store on the way home for some beers (they are sold out of cold Guinness) Get home and pop one open. Fuck - it's 5 o'clock somewhere. Happy St. Pat's 2 Me.
I wake with a yawn and a stretch at the ungodly hour of 7 am running on fumes from the night before. Quickly I shower, not really understanding why, since the day is sure to be wrought with foul odors and spilled beer. It is St. Patrick's Day in Oneonta, NY. I am in a race against the clock. I throw on heavy boots and a giant wool sweater, you know the ones that smell like sheep and are seen in abundance at Dead shows. There is 2 feet of snow on the ground. Quickly I locate the whereabouts of my illegal identification that says that I am 21 and hit the road. It is very important to get in line for General Clinton's Pub, but 7:30am, to ensure that you are one of the lucky recipients of their annual St. Patty Day T-shirts. The line is 50 people strong....
March 17, 2011
I wake with a growl and a stretch at the ungodly hour of 7am to a small voice exclaiming that. "Mommy, I am awake." Wiping the sleep from my eye I begin my Groundhog Day existence of doing the same thing I did yesterday. Today I decide that maybe I will actually shower since my hair is beginning to hurt. I toast some waffles, cut up some fruit and feed the animals waiting for their meal. Several minutes later I am wiping someone's butt and refereeing the latest dispute over anything and everything. Lunch is served and thankfully it is a school day. I drop Sprout for her meager 3 hour hiatus and return shortly to retrieve her. I make a small detour at the liquor store on the way home for some beers (they are sold out of cold Guinness) Get home and pop one open. Fuck - it's 5 o'clock somewhere. Happy St. Pat's 2 Me.
Friday, February 25, 2011
What Dreams May Come
It is a cold, rainy, gray day. The snow is starting to melt and making a muddy mess. There is a mountainesque pile of dog shit in my back yard that finds its way in between the dog's feet and all over my kitchen floor. The kids are screaming at each other about everything and nothing at all. I am deflecting demands a break neck pace. "Get me this" "I want to go out in the mud". Than there is the grunting that takes place of actual verbal skills. The needling...the needling...the needling...
I find myself having that fantasy again. The one where I run away to a Caribbean island and spend infinite hours on the beach sipping fruify drinks and my sole concern is my tan. I get a job at resort and sometimes I send word home.
No one bitches here. Everyone is so goddamn happy because they left all their worries at home. I have quiet when I want it. I can crap all by myself. No one is bitching at me that the snack they got wasn't the one they wanted. Every waking moment of my life is not being monopolized by another human being, there is no whining and I am not responsible for anyone or anything other than myself.
A girl can dream. Now excuse me while I go wipe someone else's ass.
I find myself having that fantasy again. The one where I run away to a Caribbean island and spend infinite hours on the beach sipping fruify drinks and my sole concern is my tan. I get a job at resort and sometimes I send word home.
No one bitches here. Everyone is so goddamn happy because they left all their worries at home. I have quiet when I want it. I can crap all by myself. No one is bitching at me that the snack they got wasn't the one they wanted. Every waking moment of my life is not being monopolized by another human being, there is no whining and I am not responsible for anyone or anything other than myself.
A girl can dream. Now excuse me while I go wipe someone else's ass.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Cabin Fever
You know you need a break from motherhood when you are looking forward to a morning at the hospital getting an endo/colonoscopy. Lying in the bed with an IV in my arm, I smiled at the quietness of it all. Once the sedatives kicked in, I didn't remember a thing. Ahhh, I finally got the nap I have been fantasizing about!
Between the plague-like illness we endured and the laughable amounts of snow we have been getting, we have barely left the house in 2 weeks. I am contemplating a trip to the grocery store, simply for some adult company.
I swear the fever Sprout had for five days fried her brain and threw her into a regressive state. She has backtracked to shouting at me, being ultra picky about what she eats, and assumed a generally ornery disposition. Hmmmm maybe she is reflecting back what she is getting from me.
These 2 weeks have been the ultimate test in patience. I find myself snapping on a daily basis...breathe! I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel...oh yeah it is supposed to snow again next week. Maybe instead of the grocery store I will venture out to the liquor store instead.
Between the plague-like illness we endured and the laughable amounts of snow we have been getting, we have barely left the house in 2 weeks. I am contemplating a trip to the grocery store, simply for some adult company.
I swear the fever Sprout had for five days fried her brain and threw her into a regressive state. She has backtracked to shouting at me, being ultra picky about what she eats, and assumed a generally ornery disposition. Hmmmm maybe she is reflecting back what she is getting from me.
These 2 weeks have been the ultimate test in patience. I find myself snapping on a daily basis...breathe! I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel...oh yeah it is supposed to snow again next week. Maybe instead of the grocery store I will venture out to the liquor store instead.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
SIckness Hell
Okay, so we are working on Day 4, I think, of this miserable cold that has been going around. The first 2 days are beginning to look like heaven. There was the blissful silence of a high fever. We have officially entered the whining day. Apparently the fever has incinerated the ability to form words and has left in its wake a guttural moan relating to caveman speak. "Are you Hungry?", "Ehhhhauhhhuhhhhehhhhh"
I find myself, instead of trying to comfort the ailing child, wanting to launch myself out the window. Maybe it is the hunger pains rippling through my gut as I am forced to keep a clear liquid diet for the next 24 hours in order to prepare for what I am sure will be a wonderful experience with the gastroenterologist.
UNCLE!
I find myself, instead of trying to comfort the ailing child, wanting to launch myself out the window. Maybe it is the hunger pains rippling through my gut as I am forced to keep a clear liquid diet for the next 24 hours in order to prepare for what I am sure will be a wonderful experience with the gastroenterologist.
UNCLE!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Clarity
My husband often wonders why I watch so much crap on TV. It occurred to me recently that I look forward to this media madness almost daily and I figured out why. Everyday from the moment that I am brutally awakened by a high pitch yet angelic voice until the moment the same voice ceases in the evening, I am constantly worried about the weight of my words, the tone of my voice, and the scars I may be producing on my offspring. Did I give that issue enough weight of importance, did I give too much to that one. Have I caused permanent damage. WILL I GET SOME TIME TO MYSELF!!!!
These are the questions I ask myself daily and that is with ONE child.As I contemplate the second, and consider my husband's mother, who had 12 herself, I wonder do I possess enough to give to them all and still have anything left for myself?
These are the questions I ask myself daily and that is with ONE child.As I contemplate the second, and consider my husband's mother, who had 12 herself, I wonder do I possess enough to give to them all and still have anything left for myself?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Musings for the New Year
I chose to be a mother and I feel that I had a pretty realistic outlook about what it entailed. At the beginning, a lack of sleep, feeling like a lactation machine, joy, frustration, surprise and incredible milestones. As I find myself in the preschool years, I feel as though maybe I was short-sighted.
I will preface all that is said from this point on with the following statement: I LOVE MY DAUGHTER MORE THAN ANYONE OR ANYTHING ON THIS PLANET.
I realized that there would be sacrifices of time, space and self. I was unprepared for it to be all encompassing. As a self-proclaimed night owl, affectionately challenge, space loving person, with a mildly addictive personality, I struggle with the constant chatter, albeit cute, incessant. The total invasion of personal space is getting me down. Does anyone else have a daughter that is perpetually touching their nipples? Using your body as a wonderland? Okay if it was John Maher, I would go for it, but seriously, Sprout, PERSONAL SPACE.
My mom has always told me to never wish any phase away, as it all goes by so quickly, but somehow I feel that I can offer so much more when the problems go beyond having water on your shirt, or the wrong shaped noodles. Got a boy in your life being an a-hole, we'll talk. Unsure of what to wear, call your Aunt Shannon or Tara.
Oh yeah, by the way, I stay at home with a 4 year old, and I watch my brother's 16 month old kid 4 days a week, about 10 hours a day. I envy, sometimes, my working friends. Most of them get to have adult conversations AND go to the bathroom alone. They savor the moments they get to spend in their own home, shower regularly, enjoy adult conversation. But do they miss milestones? Do the nuances of everyday life escape them? Are they more rounded because of it? How most of us never get to experience the other person's shoes, maybe this is a way to relate.
OK enough with the bitching, although you may see this as a common thread throughout future blogs, be it known that my purpose is twofold. One purpose selfish and the other as sort of a public service announcement. I need to talk about things, much to my husband's chagrin. I will try and keep him out of it as much as possible. But I find, as a lifelong journalist, in that I keep journals, not that I am out reporting for National Geographic, that I go a little nutty if I don't express myself. I also believe that I cannot be the only one that feels this way. Some people may think it taboo to make motherhood out to be anything other than a blessing, which quite often it is, I just feel that that is not reality. So I hope to offer others a place to bitch and moan at will. It is reassuring not to be alone.
Wishing everyone a happy and healthy New Year. I'll let you know the results of my colonoscopy next week. Haha, always too much information. xoxox Dani
I will preface all that is said from this point on with the following statement: I LOVE MY DAUGHTER MORE THAN ANYONE OR ANYTHING ON THIS PLANET.
I realized that there would be sacrifices of time, space and self. I was unprepared for it to be all encompassing. As a self-proclaimed night owl, affectionately challenge, space loving person, with a mildly addictive personality, I struggle with the constant chatter, albeit cute, incessant. The total invasion of personal space is getting me down. Does anyone else have a daughter that is perpetually touching their nipples? Using your body as a wonderland? Okay if it was John Maher, I would go for it, but seriously, Sprout, PERSONAL SPACE.
My mom has always told me to never wish any phase away, as it all goes by so quickly, but somehow I feel that I can offer so much more when the problems go beyond having water on your shirt, or the wrong shaped noodles. Got a boy in your life being an a-hole, we'll talk. Unsure of what to wear, call your Aunt Shannon or Tara.
Oh yeah, by the way, I stay at home with a 4 year old, and I watch my brother's 16 month old kid 4 days a week, about 10 hours a day. I envy, sometimes, my working friends. Most of them get to have adult conversations AND go to the bathroom alone. They savor the moments they get to spend in their own home, shower regularly, enjoy adult conversation. But do they miss milestones? Do the nuances of everyday life escape them? Are they more rounded because of it? How most of us never get to experience the other person's shoes, maybe this is a way to relate.
OK enough with the bitching, although you may see this as a common thread throughout future blogs, be it known that my purpose is twofold. One purpose selfish and the other as sort of a public service announcement. I need to talk about things, much to my husband's chagrin. I will try and keep him out of it as much as possible. But I find, as a lifelong journalist, in that I keep journals, not that I am out reporting for National Geographic, that I go a little nutty if I don't express myself. I also believe that I cannot be the only one that feels this way. Some people may think it taboo to make motherhood out to be anything other than a blessing, which quite often it is, I just feel that that is not reality. So I hope to offer others a place to bitch and moan at will. It is reassuring not to be alone.
Wishing everyone a happy and healthy New Year. I'll let you know the results of my colonoscopy next week. Haha, always too much information. xoxox Dani
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