was more domesticated.
had more control over my emotions.
had better time management skills.
was more fulfilled.
could find kick ass high heals that were ridiculously comfortable.
had more patience.
felt less awkward talking to strangers.
could think of something funny to blog about.
Happy Mother’s Day!!!
So as it turns out being the caretaker to a newborn ain’t easy, seeing as neither of you know what the hell he wants (is there an app for that yet??).
People don’t like to tell you the truth about the first few weeks, simply claiming they “forgot” as it was blurred by the bliss and miracle of this new angel (insert eyeroll)… I’m thinking it’s simply a front made to protect you from any premature fear.
And I’m not here to burst any bubbles, I in love with our lil dude… but let’s get real. Assuming you had any kind of life before, this is one hell of an adjustment.
If you’re toying with the idea of a baby, make sure you’ll have TIME and INFINITE amounts of patience. Or marry a billionaire and have a Mary Poppins team.
Things to Expect:
You will contemplate suicide within the first week. Probably in the…
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I think I may have sleep apnea because I snort myself awake on my commuter train almost everyday. It sucks the worst when I open my eyes and people are giggling – don’t they care that I almost just died?
If I do have sitting up apnea does that mean I have lying down apnea? Do you have to sleep in a sleep lab to determine if you have it? Do they watch you sleep? I find that creepy. What if I, you know … toot? Oh my god I’d die.
I can’t bring that oxygenator or transducer or whatever it’s called machine on the train though anyway because I like to sit in the quiet zone. Imagine I sit down and pull out that machine? Hungh, whoosh, hungh, woosh. It’d be a lynch mob. These commuters are very unforgiving.
I bet they see me coming though, just like I see them. These strangers I spend over 300 hours with a year. I bet they call me “snores a lot” or “Snorty McSnorerson” or worse.
I am starting to get some feedback on this blog and so far it’s pretty positive. If you are enjoying it – thank you. It’s been a lot of fun. My husband is now my official proofreader and he even said to me last night “this is good writing”. What!?! This guy barely talks. That’s like the pope calling you at home and saying “Hey, how’s it going? Listen, I’m not supposed to say anything but you’re totally getting into heaven. No, I’m not kidding,”
Thing is though I have no idea what I’m doing and I thought I hated writing. Seriously, I don’t even like making grocery lists. I used to pretend to have scurvy to get out of writing assignments in school.
Once when I was a kid I wanted to stay home from school and so I thought I’d pull the whole fake fever scam. I got out the thermometer and placed it directly on the lightbulb. Yup, right on there. I left it for, oh I don’t know, let’s say several minutes and then called my mom and jammed that sucker right in my mouth. Three things happened immediately 1) I burned my mouth 2) the glass broke and the mercury poured into my mouth and 3) I panicked and jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom and jumped in the shower. I thought I was going to be in so much trouble for breaking the thermometer and my 11 year old mind thought if you want to play it cool just take a random shower. So of course my mom was like “Why are you showering – I thought you had scurvy?” I broke down and told her the whole thing. I don’t remember the fall out other than having to replace the thermometer so I must not have swallowed the mercury and died. Isn’t that stuff really bad for you?
So I’m worried, what if I run out of ideas? Suppose in a few weeks I’ll have used up all my creative ideas and I’ll just be this empty shell who can’t think of anything to say. Or that mercury poisoning gets around to finally killing me? So stay tuned people because these ideas could dry up or I could literally die at any moment.
My kids are nuts but in a good way and so different from each other.
The girl is smart, strong and dramatic. She is wildly entertaining and can get almost anyone to do things for her. No joke – I’ve seen her get strangers to carry her up hills before.
The boy is rough, athletic, coordinated and pure. He spends a lot time figuring out how to do things and looking for a ball to throw at your head.
I think if a home alone scenario was to happen the girl would just lay down and wait for death. If you hand her something with a screw on lid she is baffled “well clearly this is impenetrable…” but she can understand concepts like photosynthesis or solar systems and feels bad for Pluto losing its status as a planet.
The boy on the other hand would find a way to make a pie or something. Yet he still thinks banging his head off the ground or growling at me is the best way of expressing he would have preferred water over milk to drink with dinner. Also he takes his shoes off outside and then cries because his socks are dirty and wet.
But one of my wildest dreams have come true – my kids like each other. Sure they fight and once in a while someone gets bit but they truly seem to like each other. The other night the girl ran full tilt into a glass wall at dance class and was very upset. She was sitting with me holding her ice pack and crying and the boy dug out the lip balm from the diaper bag and walked over to her and gently coated the bottom half of her face until she started laughing. Such love.