So this morning, to go to the pharmacy with me and run other errands, P3 donned her superhero cape. And when we got out of the car at CVS and I had to readjust her cape (apparently, we need a more superhero-friendly carseat), she was a little frustrated about it. But when I fixed it to her satisfaction, she beamed at me, just SO. PLEASED. and said “Mama? You can be my sidekick anytime.”
Had to summon every ounce of restraint I possess just to not say “Bullshit; you can be mine.” (I have a feeling my 80s movie trivia grasp might be lost on this child of the new millennium.) But the girl has some nerve, relegating me to sidekick 39 short months ex utero, don’t you think?
I used to have the most amazing revelations first thing in the morning, even if awakened by an alarm clock. Now? I’m lucky if I even get to brush my teeth or get dressed before the goat bleating reaches DEFCON 1. I don’t get the luxury of awakening with depressed frontal lobe function. No sleep intertia for me. I go from asleep to awake the minute P3’s feet hit the floor and there’s no time to readjust.
I don’t have insights in the morning anymore; I have small loud people making demands. I know I signed on for this, but I was led astray by the cute little Johnson & Johnson commercials about what it’s really like to have small children in your house. Damn ad men.
The day has come. I dreaded it. But I knew it was coming. With that hair, and those eyes, and that grin, the one that says she just might be up for anything…? My daughter has a “friendboy.” (That cracks me right up.) His name is AJ. And she “WUVS” him.
This morning, instead of fighting me to get up and get ready, she launched herself out of bed and proceeded to pick out her own clothes. (more…)
Yes, as in the German for “mothers.” Could not be more perfect, really. The goats and their father have me wandering around saying things under my breath (most of which are “syrup” “bed” “idiocy”) and the job hunt is much the same (different words, though: “database” “futility” “idiocy”). How is it that I somehow thought to get OUT of I.T. by going back to school and the only calls I have received since the job hunt began are from people who desperately want me to be their new in-house Queen of All Things Data? What’s worse is that pretty soon I’m going to have to take one of them up on it. Worst of all is the fact that I managed to spend eight bajillion dollars on tuition so that I could end up with a job exactly like the last technical job I had…..for $5k less in salary.
Wow, do I sound bitter, or what? Sorry. I’m not, really. I just don’t like Mother’s Day all that much. Probably tomorrow I will wake up with a whole new perspective. Or at least sheets that don’t have syrup on them.
