crazy f**cking SAHM

My Kid Hates Me

Ben now goes to daycare 5 days a week. I got a really big project that goes to the end of the year. So now I feel like I never see him. I must admit that I used to laugh at the women in my mom's group who worked full time and bemoaned the fact that their kids "didn't like them". I would reassuringly say "Of course that's not true. You're their mom. Nothing will ever change that".So here I am. In my first week of FT childcare and I am convinced (I mean CONVINCED) that Ben loves me less than he did last week. And I feel SO guilty. What did they put in women's water to imbibe us with these feeelings? I can't seem to shake it. So now I am tired, stressed AND a psychotic mother. I am in this terrible predicament where when I am with him I enjoy it, but feel a little unfulfilled and when I am not with him I miss him and feel guilty. Talk about Murphy's Law. I don't know whether I am coming or going. But I suppose that's nothing new.

Undoing GENERATIONS of Feminism

I have had a good deal of work lately. This is a good thing due to the fact that I spend much faster that I earn. So I have been working on weekends and Ben is pissed. Who can blame him really? I mean, I am after all his plaything, bound to do his bidding for eternity. It's in the job description: mom=slave.So on Saturday when I went into the office Ben heard the clang of the baby gate and came running and screaming. I swear that kid can hear that baby gate from anywhere in the universe. He can be perfectly happy playing by himself and then WHAM he is right there when that gate shuts. It's like he can sense that someone is denying him entry SOMEWHERE. So he's screaming and I come out to be with him. I know that Josh is about to take him out of the house so I figure I will spend the next 15 minutes with him until they leave. But once he has me he is no longer interested (SO like a man). So I go into the kitchen and do the dishes. This doesn't bother him in the slightest. I can't sit at the computer but I can do the dishes. I KNOW Josh taught him this. Because more than he wants me to make money, Josh wants me to do the dishes—only so he doesn't have to.

Mommy

When Ben was born I could hardly wait until he said the word MAMA or MOMMY or some variation. The first time he said it, it was like music to my ears and my heart stopped. Now he says it all the time. I mean ALL the time. Even when he is not trying to get my attention. Just because he knows how. Just because he can. If I had a nickel for every time he said it, we would be able to buy more lattes. We would be rich I tell you. Rich in caffeine.

Rough Spot

I am going through a rough mommy spot right now. Part of me wants to have another kid right away to help entertain Ben and the other part of me knows that I would have a nervous breakdown. Not to mention the stupidity behind such a plan. That's like having a kid to save your marriage—DUH!I really don't know how people have more than two kids. Don't get me wrong, I am not against it. I just don't undersatnd how people manage the challenge. I have never been miss high energy, but I am exhausted every day by just the one. And a pretty darn easy one at that. I just feel like it's all unraveling right now. I can't seem to remember ANYTHING and all I want to do is read in bed all day. Yes, I know, it's called depression. And what really cracks me up is that I sit there and read novels about women who feel trapped by their circumstances and in my head I yell at them CHANGE YOUR LIFE—NO ONE WILL DO IT FOR YOU. If only I could take my own damn advice.

M is for Mommy and Manipulation

Ben's favorite new thing to do when we put him down to sleep is to lay there and say 'mommy' over and over again. I know what he's up to. He's not fooling me. He wants me to come in and pick him up and save him from the evils of sleep. And I won't do it. Number one, I know that he needs plenty of shut eye for his health. Number two, if I start picking him up he will know that he can easily bend me to his will. Number three, I need a break damnit. I am shocked by how stubborn he is. He is stubborn about being able to play with all the tech gadgets around the house. He is the perfect melding of Josh and me.

Failure to Ride

So I finally went out and bought an infant seat for the back of my bike. I figured I could ride Ben to daycare. He'd have fun, I'd get some much needed exercise, and we would save some fossil fuels. I got Josh to install the seat today and then I took Ben for a spin and almost immediately fell. I felt like such a bad mom (not to mention a klutz). It was just so hard to balance with all that weight on the back. So now I need to 'practice' with just the empty chair for a bit. Since I have not ridden a bike in a few years I need to get my balance back. Luckily we are both safe—I just banged up my knee a bit and he just got the hell scared out of him (not to mention the trauma that was caused). Next time I put him on a bike he will probably scream bloody murder to get down. Can you
blame him?

What Would I Do if Trader Joe's Banned Me?

I went to Trader Joe's today just like I do practically every other day of the week. I am there and at Target so often that I am just waiting for the sign to be erected that says THE HOUSE THAT BONNIE BUILT. So it's just another ordinary milk buying trip to TJs. I get to the cash register and reach in my purse and yep—you guessed it—I forgot my wallet. Embarrassment. But then I figured they must see this at least twice a day. Harried looking mom, hasn't brushed her hair in days, forgets her wallet. It's a bummer that I can't just say "Put it on my account". Ah, the good old days.After our debacle of a grocery shopping trip Ben and I headed over to my friend Jessie's to hang out with her and her son. The boys played and hit each other with blocks while we looked on and discussed their behavior. Then we swapped stories to decide who had the more slovenly housekeeping habits and therefore who had a filthier kid. I must admit that this discussion made me give Ben a bath tonight. I was leaning on the side of laziness, but after that conversation, cleaning was a must. We never did decide who was messier, but that's just because Jessie is nice and didn't want to say what we all know—that I am WORLD CHAMPION BAD HOUSEKEEPER. So now Ben is clean and in bed. Josh is out of town. And I am going to make a cocktail.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day everyone. Ben is giving me the ultimate present. It is 9:00 and he is STILL asleep. He has never slept this late. I must admit I am beginning to worry but I will NOT go in there. I hope you all have a lovely (aka child-free) day. Relax. Take care of yourselves (for once). And NOW the kid is awake.

The Cow Bell Syndrome

Every morning that I happen to wake up before the slumbering toddler I just hold my breath, hoping for a few minutes to myself. But it never fails. If I physically get out of bed BINGO he's up. It's as if I have a cow bell attached to my neck that only he can hear. Did the hospital install this while I was sleeping or did it just come free during gestation? Where can I return mine? I'll keep the kid, but ditch the bell.Time has become the most precious commodity in our household. Time ALONE that is. I feel like I am always looking to see where I can slip some in and on the weekends Josh and I are alwlays jockeying into a position where we can snag some and get the other one to watch the kid. It's like being at a really big sale and it's each man for himself. Take no prisoners. Well, got to go. The cow bell syndrome is in effect and he's UP. Those three minutes were nice, weren't they?

Tough Days Suck

Yesterday was a tough day. All I wanted to do was get into bed and read for twelve hours straight. That's impossible to do with a kid. It was the first time since Ben was born that I truly mourned the loss of my childless life.Ben and I went to Sacramento to visit my good friend Valerie and her two children Rowan and Una. We had a lovely visit, but boy was it an awakening to what life with two kids would be like. I don't think Val had two seconds to herself. Now those of us who have one may say "what's the difference?" But this was different. Trust me. Val and I indulged in my favorite sport on Saturday. Garage saling. Yep, it's a real verb. I got Ben this great little car thingy and today he was tooting around the yard in it. So cute. And this new independence is a real plus. He'll be getting his driver's license soon. cycle_collage.jpg

What Color is YOUR Cupcake?

For Ben's first birthday I wanted to get a cupcake and have him blow out the candle and I could take a picture. I went to a local shi shi (how the hell do you spell that word?) bakery to get one for him. I had two choices. One was chocolate with chocolate icing and the other was white with blue frosting. I had a dilemna. Did I get the chocolate which would probably taste better to Ben? Or should I get the one with the blue frosting, which would make for a more interesting photograph? I mean, let's face it, brown just isn't that pretty sometimes.For most of you this probably seems like an easy choice. Because most of you aren't insane. For me it was agonizing becaue I had to choose between my needs and wants and what I perceived Ben's to be. Well, I passed this good mother test and bought the chocolate one, which not only did Ben not touch but also made for a crummy photo. Just goes to show that altruism doesn't pay. Here is the photo that not only has boring color but also shows Ben's fascination with the flame pointing to his future career as an arsonist. cupcake_02_sq.jpg

The Sesame Street School

Did you ever notice how on Sesame Street the adults never tell the kids/monsters "because I SAID so"? They always take the time to explain the lesson and then make sure that the child understands it and is 'okay' with it. Somehow I doubt that will be my parenting method. I see a good deal of "because I said so"s in my future. Sorry Ben.

Pukety, Puke, Puke

Ben is sick. Throw up sick. We'll just be hanging out on the bed, having a grand ol' time and suddenly he vomits. Projectile, scary, Exorcist vomit. Get the hell out of the way and save yourself vomit. Apparently, he picked this up at daycare (what a shock!) Then I was told horror stories of the next phase, which is apparetly diarrhea. Scary, all over the walls diarrhea. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Boobs

This post is about boobs. So for those of you who are faint of heart or still harbor romantic ideas about breasts--stop reading now. I don't want to ruin it for you.For the rest of us...ah gravity. It does so many wonderful things. But where boobs are concerned, it is the enemy. And boy has it wreaked havoc on mine. As I quickly approach forty they were already quickly descending and now after breastfeeding it is more like a plummeting towards my feet. I feel like I need to wear a bra even to sleep. I was always someone who wanted smaller boobs. I always found them to be in the way. Okay, yes, during sex they're nice, but the other 98% of our lives they're just obtrusive. And any romantic illusions I may have harbored were all quickly dispelled after breastfeeding. I had a very hard time breastfeeding. I thought it would be like in the movies. I would put the baby to my breast and magically everything would just happen. It was so NOT like that. It took weeks for Ben and I to figure it out. And after using my mammory glands for what they were intended, they are not only less mysterious, but just plain old sad looking. Every once in awhile I will se a 50-ish looking woman whose breasts are hanging down at her ankles. I look at her and say the following silent prayer "Please God, let her not have worn a bra her entire life."

Two is Five Times as Hard

This morning Ben and I took care of our friend Zora, who is two years old. We went to the park and had a great time, but frankly I HAD NO IDEA HOW HARD TWO IS! For those of you who are single parents, parents of twins (or heaven forbid multiples higher than 2), have two or more kids, my hat goes off to you. Hell, my everything goes off to you. After three hours I was EXHAUSTED. If someone offered me a cocktail at noon I wouldn't have turned it down, but I was, of course, too lazy to make one myself.

Thomas

Thomas the train from 'Thomas & Friends' says that being useful is much better than being important. Who the f**k does he think he's kidding? We all know that being important is how you get the bling-bling. Hint: If I am using the term 'bling-bling' you know it is SO un-hip.

Cold and Rainy Day

I took Ben to daycare today because I was going to get all sorts of administrative stuff done. Stuff I have been putting off for ages. But now that I have met my big deadline my get up and go is long gone. The fact that it is wet and rainy does not help. Now all I want to do is watch TV or get under the covers and read. I can't tell you how INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT it is that the tv is not in the bedroom. If it were, I would NEVER leave the house, or even the bed for that matter.

Stealing Time

My friend Valerie used to tell me about how she always felt like she was trying to 'steal time' from her family and children. At the time I had no real idea what she meant by that. Now I know. Boy,
do I know.I was always a procrastinator, but now I feel like any time I am not working (designing, cleaning the house, emptying the diaper genie, all the glamorous tasks) I am 'stealing time'. I feel guilty, but DAMN it feels good. I can't remember what it feels like to have a whole day ahead of me with nothing to do but lay in bed and read. That sounds sooo good, doesn't it?