This will be my third year attending BlissDom, but it will be my first time staying overnight and fully immersing myself in the experience (read: getting drunk and partying with my friends and colleagues). Why, you ask? Two reasons: 1) This is the first year that I'm not pregnant or don't have a young nursling at home, and 2) This is the first year that BlissDom is at a location far away enough that I can't drive home after the day's events, even if I wanted to.
Usually when you get a Brazillian wax, you expect to leave the appointment with tender lady bits and perhaps a bit of sticky wax in your asshole. What you don't normally expect is to leave with exceptional words of parenting wisdom that will forever improve your relationship with your child.
I'm about to share something very personal and embarrassing with you guys: the contents of my purse.
Whenever I get a new bag, I start out with the best of intentions, and a declaration to the universe. A purse pledge, that sounds something like this:
"Dearly beloved new bag that smells divine and sweet. I will NOT turn you into a junk pile/trash can/collector of random shit. I will carry you proudly, and stroke you gently with love and affection..." (I'm making my husband jealous). And then two months later, what happens?
Generally, I'm a pretty happy person. I have a positive outlook. I smile a lot. In fact, I don't even know how to not smile in photos. I'd be a terrible model. I could never pull off the moody/indifferent look. See? I look like I'm having a stroke when I try to do the pouty thing.
Maybe it's because Maeve isn't such a baby anymore, and she might be our last (she'll most likely be our last). Or maybe it's because it's summer - and all I want to do is play, play, play (and not work, work, work). But I've totally been Peter Panning it lately, and it's awesome.
Most families I know have two working parents. Often one, or both of the parents, spend time commuting. With kid(s) in daycare/school, and extra curricular activities, it's hard to imagine where parents "nowadays" (I sound like I'm 80) find time to fart, let alone fold the laundry.
Well, since I've returned to work after baby number two, here are five things we've done in an effort to stay sane:
Maybe it's the German in me, but I've always had a fascination with poo.
(Is that a discriminatory thing to say? But I can sort of get away with it, because I'm German? What if I make that statement while wearing lederhosen and eating schnitzel? Did I just make this situation worse? Possibly...)
It probably comes as no surprise to you that I love my children. (I think most mothers love their children...most of the time).
I love hugging them (Elmira from Anamaniacs style) kissing them (obsessively) and making them laugh (they think I'm freaking hilarious! They're only three and one, but I'll take it!)
What I also love is observing their behaviours and watching their personalities develop. They're like my little lab rats, and it's awesome (but they're not rats so that makes it even more awesome).
It just does. Whether it's the jeans that used to fit that remain folded in the back of your closet, or the tears that now roll down your cheeks while watching Cottonelle commercials: you're different after you become a mother.
For some, the change is drastic. Others barely notice the shift - but it's there.
Last week, I put the winter coats away and sighed with relief. Sure, I was happy the nice weather was finally here to stay - but I was even more ecstatic that I could finally get into the van with ease. NO MORE SNOWSUITS.
But then I remembered, with nice weather comes...
THE SUNSCREEN BATTLES.
*cue horror movie-music and echoed screams*
Just when I thought that I could maybe get out the door with both kids in under 15 minutes, my happy bubble was burst.
Honestly, I can't really believe I'm writing this blog post, for many reasons. But alas, me and my sad boobs are sitting here, writing you this blog post.
Guess what I found in my kitchen pantry the other day?
A toy chainsaw.
Yep. Sitting right there in the bread basket. My son's Stihl brand chainsaw, laying nonchalantly across the Country Harvest multigrain. Having a rest after a long day's work.
And I get it. Bread is comfortable. Why wouldn't a chainsaw want to get all snuggly and cozy on top of a fresh loaf of bread? A totally logical place for a chainsaw to take a rest if you ask me.
As my daughter approaches her first birthday, naturally I've started thinking...about having another baby.
I'm nuts, right? We have a three year-old boy, and a one year-old girl. The million dollar family, or so I'm told. My husband is more than happy to be "done." I've never seen someone so eager to have a sharp blade near their genitals.
He's waiting for me to give him the thumbs up. The go ahead. The green light. He's already planned himself a vasectomy party. (Which basically involves him watching sports and drinking beer.)
Most of the time, I write blogs about my experience as a parent. Today, I'm writing a blog post specifically for my daughter...
Maeve, today you are one.
So of course I'm going to say things like, "Where has the time gone?" and "My baby is growing up." And all of it is true. This last year has been incredible, and I've loved watching you grow.
As my daughter's first birthday approaches, I find myself re-living the day she came into this world. I look back at the photos of her birth and my eyes instantly fill with happy tears. It was truly one of the most amazing days of my life.
When it comes to people who constantly cancel at the last minute (or just don't show up at all) I truly believe that Mom's are the worst offenders. I'm sorry, but it's true. Mom's are chronic bailers.
Not all moms, but most moms. And we have good reasons!
