Since I can’t just up and leave my life, I’ve decided to up and leave my blog host. No biggie. Nothing really happened. It’s amicable. Anyway, check it out and don’t be creepy: let me know you’ve dropped by (follow me!). On another note, if you should find yourself at my fancy new blog and you should happen upon some ads on the site, feel free to click on them. Fun! Maybe I get money? Maybe they’ve threatened my first born if you don’t comply? One other thing: could you wash your hands before you arrive at my new site? There’s a lot going around right now.
So. At first I was hesitant to post this news clip of myself but then I thought: no, let me be an inspiration to the millions of other moms out there who torment themselves with thoughts of inadequacy, wondering if they, too, can so prolifically blog and parent simultaneously. You can do it!
I want to congratulate my good friend who just arrived home from the hospital with her brand new baby boy! He is very cute and I’m not just saying that because she’s my friend. I’m not even close to that nice. Anyway, he really is exceptionally cute. So, congratulations on not getting any stretch marks! WOW. Way to go on the creating life, too! xoxo
I feel so bad! I owe myself a huge apology. Why would I ever question myself when it’s so obvious now that it’s Spawn who has the problem?! I love being home with my child. I thought because I had gone so long without a break that maybe it wasn’t for me after all but then I had a lot of brakes over a period of days and felt refreshed again. My first full day back with Spawn we stayed home all day. She was cranky by noon. She was bored and not so fun to be around. Then it dawned on me that I don’t have a problem being a stay at home mom. It’s Spawn who has the problem. She’s not meant to be a stay at home kid.
This morning I literally laid on the floor and cried like a baby. I can’t really explain it. Spawn wouldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t face getting us both organized enough to go outside and actually do something. I think I’m the opposite of most moms. I feel guilty that my kid is not in day care. If she was at least there part time… She could learn about inukshuks, African drummers, social skills, etc. I’ve tried to do on line research to find out what I can do with her that would resemble ‘learning centres’ in day care but I can’t find much. That I want to do, I mean. For a couple days I was really worried that she was saying ‘Bo’ as in Bo on the Go, the cartoon. The thought that she was using some of her first words to say a t.v. show character shocked and terrified me. It turns out it was something that her Grandmother taught her and she was saying ‘boom’. In fact, it seems as though every time she comes back from a stint at her Grandmother’s, she’s learned a new word or skill of some description. I just hope that the benefits of hearing ‘I love you’ and getting hugs and kisses out weighs the inevitable brain atrophy she’ll experience from staying home with me.
I thought I would document every inappropriate comment thrown at me this during my second pregnancy. This comment came from a friend who noticed my growing belly, proceeded to poke it and then topped it all off with this lovely observation.
One friend was waitressing throughout her pregnancy and a customer asked her if she planned on having a ‘vaginal delivery’. I can’t think of any context that would justify someone you’re waiting on saying ‘vaginal’ to you? Can you say vagina without picturing one? Anyway, people stay stupid stuff to pregnant people and I’m keeping track. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to profit from this.
My new greatest fear is that my child will have reason to be on this show. It would be very humiliating. And inconvenient. I hate the emergency room. Spawn eating a D cell is pretty much the only way to get me to sit in that germ infested hell whole all night.
The differences between the first pregnancy and the second are astounding. First, it’s a totally different experience in that it is not as all- incompacing as the first time and also I feel sick almost constantly. But more than that are the reactions from people. Family seems barely aware of the new pregnancy most of the time. I feel like I can’t complain or milk it in any way. The first time, people are really excited but the second time people act like you’re in a dysfunctional relationship that you keep going back to over and over again and they’re sick of hearing about it because now you’re just asking for the drama and what the hell did you expect to happen? Maybe that’s my hormones talking.
But the biggest difference is from friends and acquaintences. Sometimes I get a ‘congrats’ on its own but I almost always hear some kind of judgement or questioning of my mental health. To be fair, a cursory glance at my family’s mental health history warrants the questions but somehow I don’t think that’s what everyone’s getting at. I understand when people who don’t have kids think I’m “crazy!” or “insane!” or “completely insane!”’ or “crazy insane!” for having another so soon but I can’t believe how many people with kids say it? Are their kids terrorists? Are they in a dysfunctional relationship? I mean, is it so crazy to have kids 18 months apart? Or is it crazy to wait so long that you’re starting all over again, forgetting the things you managed to do right, and having babies and toddlers for years and years, stretched out so you never feel like you’re out of that phase??
You know what is crazy? Two summers in a row without one mojito.
“I don’t know why you let me go to University. It’s like taking me to the top of the mountain and showing me the world, and then marching me back down, and saying, “That’s what you can’t have Benny, you silly great fat article. Here’s what you can have: Knockglen for the rest of your life and married to Sean bloody Walsh!” I’d rather be married to a bloody lizard!”—
Bernadette ‘Benny’ Hogan, “Circle Of Friends”, 1995
In the desperate race for winning my love my only ex-utero child is slipping behind. Sad to say. She had been sleeping in until 8 or later for the last couple weeks but yesterday and today she was up at 6. Shame on me. Shame on me for trusting a good pattern to last. Have I learned nothing in the last 11 months?! Anyway, as I lay awake in my bed, bitterly disappointed that Spawn was yelling my name, I was reminded of this scene from Cirle Of Friends.I hear you, Benny. I feel your pain.
As I held my sleeping child and stared into her beautiful visage I thought: I wonder what she’d look like with a coat of mascara? And then it hit me: baby portraits! A little rouge, a little lip stick and some pearls? Why stop there? A little shiner and baby sized baseball glove? A bloody medical coat and a mini stethescope? Some five o’clock shadow and pint size brief case??!! You get the picture. I think this could really go somewhere. Drunken Sailor? Starbucks Barrista? Bearded Lady? Who wouldn’t want this for posterity? And who wouldn’t want to look back at themselves at ten months, posing as a secretary drunk at her Christmas staff party? My daughter will thank me.
Maybe it’s because I couldn’t handle the new sense of freedom that I was experiencing from Spawn? Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to keep trying to lose those final pounds? Maybe it’s because I thought my Creation was getting too uppity with all the attention a baby gets? Or maybe it’s because biology has cornered me again? Either way, I’m having another baby! Finally, I will have the answer to the age old question, “can you love your children equally”? Here are some ideas I have to keep SpawnS on their toes:
* a chart that looks like a horse race track, each child being a horse and forever moving them forward one at a time depending on their goodness, helpfullness, talents, etc. The race track, of course, is a circle which really speaks to how they will always have to continue to try to be better than each other and win my love. * picking days of the week for each child to be my favorite so that they each learn to try and please me and how see how bad second place feels. * spearheading a Take Your Kids To Work plan at my Associate’s work so I can never be home alone, out numbered by SpawnS. * Since my children will be about 1.5 years apart, I will expect, from day one, that kid #2 will be exactly like kid #1. It would just be easier to plan activities and meals that way.
That’s all I have for now but I have nine months and about one hour for labour and twenty mins for pushing to figure out the details.
I can hide behind my Spawn! I can hold her right in front of me! That way I can let it allllll hang out. Also, since nobody talks to me about anything else anyway, I don’t have to worry about coming up with something witty to say. What a relief?
Of course, it’s the baby’s fault that I have anything to hide in the first place. Sigh…
My babysitter for tomorrow night has canceled. This is devestating. Obvisouly, paid help was my last option so now I’m s.o.l. Note to pregnant ladies: all those people who say they can’t wait to babysit your unborn child are full of crap. You will sit home alone. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m just going to go lock myself in my closet and write in my diary about how stupid everyone is.
Click on the link to read the article about ‘baby brain’. It’s ligit! And that explains why I’ve forgotten to strap my baby in and simply placed her seat in the car, forgot to pay bills, forgot to put the cap back on after I actually remembered to put oil in the car, forgot to call people back, started the dishes and forgot to finish them, burned all or some of our dinner, lost the car keys right after I’ve unlocked the car, etc. I was actually starting to get a little depressed at how stupid and forgetful I’ve become but I am feeling better since I know it’s not my fault.
I’ll just add my brain to the list of parts of me that my baby has ruined.