Sprinting to the finish, everyday.

Yowza. Time is flying by. I hardly have time to sit down and breathe, let alone write for pleasure. On the plus side, work is awesome. The projects I'm working on are fun, exciting and make me happy to get up in the morning. And that's all I'm allowed to say about them for now.

On the family front, I feel like I'm doing a better job of balancing my family time and my work time. I am leaving work at a decent hour. I am also making it a point to run after work a few days a week. These two things have helped me to have more time at home, and to be in a better mental place once I get there.

The kids are getting into the swing of things as well. Lennox is a charming little lump of giggles. He is getting so big and starting to do things on his own, and he's trying to scootch about already. Meanwhile, he's so chill. He will let me do anything I need to get done, so long as he can sit in his little bouncy chair within sight of me. Warren is working really hard to listen and help. His fit throwing has gotten so much better these days. I don't know if I'm learning better ways to deal with his emotional breakdowns, or if he is just gaining the ability to cope better, but either way, things are so much more pleasant around here these days.

All of which is crucial right now, since Xtian is working incredibly insane hours. At least twice a week he's stuck at work until after 10 pm. Yes, that is rough on everyone. He's tired, I'm overwhelmed by being solo parent all night, and the kids miss him when they go for days without seeing him.

As always, our saving grace, is Cory. The kid just picks up the slack, and steps in when I'm about to lose it in one respect or another. Whether it's distracting Warren, holding Lennox, doing the dishes, or even just chatting with me (oh my god, adult social interaction! Yay!) he's just there, exactly where I need him to be.

The only place that is not settling down is the whole "spending time with your spouse" thing. It's just a lack of TIME. Even on nights he's home at a reasonable hour, by the time we get everything put together, kids fed, bathed and put to bed, and have everything ready for the next day, I'm exhausted and brain fried. So, even when we have an hour to spend together, I'm just DONE. And he's about the same. Even our weekends are discombobulated lately. We each have separate obligations or plans, or are busily trying to get all the household chores or errands done... it's been a little rough.

But, once June is over, we should have a little bit of a break, and can hopefully spend a little leisure time together.
This whole parenting thing, is like being in a constant strategic battle. But at least we're mostly having fun.

First week down

My first week back at work is over. Working was fine, but man, trying to start the routine is killer. Most nights Xtian didn't get home until 7 pm or later, and on daycare days the kids are a mess. Between trying to get everyone organized and keep everyone happy and having fun, it's a little tough right now. I'm sure we'll settle into a routine, but right now I'm a little wrecked.

Speaking of daycare, I'm having a hard time with a few things. I like the people a lot and Warren has a really good time with his friends there. But my parenting choices are at odds with theirs. It's not the big things, but they are things that make a big difference in the kids' attitudes. The big issues are food and TV. The TV is less of an issue for Warren now (he's allowed to watch some TV now, and they have the tube on much more than I would like, but Warren mostly ignores it and plays with toys.), but so far Lennox has been there 2 days, and 2 days I've arrived to find Lennox (who is 3-months old, by the way) staring at the television.

I feel like this one is easy to deal with right now. Lennox is immobile, so I just need to ask them to make sure he's turned AWAY from the TV. I can't imagine they can possibly fault me there.

The harder issue is food. I'm not a total stickler for food. Warren has had cookies and non-healthy snacks. But those are only in special/extreme circumstances. Warren's diet consists of whole wheat bread, that I bake, all-natural peanut butter, a lot of fresh and dried fruit, and a handful of veggies that he likes. Sometimes, I can get a yogurt into him. That's pretty much all he eats. But at daycare, "fruit" means pre-packaged fruit snacks that are primarily high fructose corn syrup. Juice can mean kool-aid. Yesterday Warren let it slip that he gets chocolate at daycare. CHOCOLATE TO A 2-YEAR-OLD WHO DOES NOT GET SUGAR. And yes, I've had conversations with the daycare folks about Warren's food needs.

I've mostly ignored the issue to this point. Not everyone feels the way I do, and the kids are only there two days a week. So, nutritionally, I know he's fine. On the other hand, I know that Warren's shitty attitude on daycare days has a lot to do with all the sugar and crap he's eating all day. Certainly, some of the horror can be attributed to the stress from the chaotic environment and the crummy naps he gets at daycare. (At home, Warren takes 3-4 hour, completely undisturbed naps. At daycare, I'm sure it's nothing like that.) But the multiple meltdowns in the few hours we get to spend at home before bed are horrible.

The problem is this, I can't expect them to make special meals for Warren. And if everyone else is getting a snack and Warren is left out, that sets up a nasty dynamic. Not my goal. So, there's not really a point in having a conversation about it. All it will do is create friction in the relationship, and we need this situation to continue working for a while yet. Are these two issues worth finding a new daycare? I don't know. I feel like it isn't. But I also know that the first reasonable-feeling excuse to find new arrangements, I will.

Again, it's not that I'm terribly unhappy. I feel conflicted. I like the people and I know that Warren is having fun and learning there. I hate how nasty and fragile Warren is when he gets home. And right now, Lennox doesn't really know the difference. The only impact going back to work seems to have on Lennox is that once I get home Lennox wants to nurse every 10 minutes. And that makes getting organized for the next day really hard. (Yeah, try making dinner when you get interrupted every 10 minutes and have to spend 20 minutes with a baby attached to you.)

Hopefully we'll find our groove soon. Because, man, am I ever tired.

And it'

Getting Ready

I love my children. I am ridiculously enamored of them, and can bore you to tears by telling you the adorable and charming things they do and say on a daily basis.

That being said, I really feel that I'm a better parent when I am not with my children 24 hours a day, every day. I need some space and distance from my loved ones (not just the kids) in order to maintain my sanity. I have significantly more patience when there is some variety to my day, and more parts of my brain are exercised. When I have the time to miss the kiddos.

I have really enjoyed this opportunity to be home with my children. Especially since these 12 weeks off work allowed me to soak up Lennox and bond with him in such a strong way. It's been a lot of fun. It became less fun when Xtian started his new job. You see, Xtian's new job involves a ton of overtime. Which is awesome from a paycheck perspective, but it is less awesome when he arrives home long after the kids are in bed, several days a week. It's just a very long day of being the primary parent. (And honestly, I've got Cory for back up most days, so I have it much easier than most people. I can't imagine how horrid it could be if you didn't have backup.)

I have nothing but the deepest respect for parents who choose to stay at home with their children for the long haul. My mom stayed at home with us and was incredible. But I'm just not one of those people. My disposition is just not made for this. I am not patient enough. Nor am I motivated to really do anything interesting with my time. I'm not a hobby kind of person, so once the house is clean, the kids are fed and any conceivable cooking/baking projects have been exhausted, I'm kind of out of ideas. Without a job, I find that I have all this time but nothing productive to do with it. Being at home is wasted on me. (Perhaps I would feel differently if I owned my home and thus projects around the house would actually be appealing?)

The last few months have been great in a lot of ways. One way in particular is that it gave me the chance to actually prove that I can parent two children without aid.

We've had Cory with us since the day after Warren came home from the hospital. As long as I have had kids, I've had some backup. It is excellent, and I recommend it if you have the means. However, I have often wondered if I am capable of taking care of my kids, by myself for any extended period of time. Once Lennox arrived, and my mom went back home, I decided to not ask Cory for help. It wasn't always easy and I probably lost my cool more often than I would have liked, but I did it. And that was terribly gratifying to the achievement-addict in me.

Count it! Two days in a row!

The problem with having a sweet new computer and a bitchin' internet connection is that I never go to bed anymore. Instead, I think "I should probably just check my email" and then I stay up hours later than I meant to. Delightful. Willpower? I have none.

Since Warren took it upon himself to rearrange the keyboard on my laptop, I've been spending a lot of time speaking with employees of ridiculous computer stores. It should be noted, customer service and even just pleasant conversation are both officially dead. If one more person sneers at me for asking a question, I might just start slapping people with whatever office supplies I can lay my hands on.

Suffice to say, I'm no closer to fixing my poor old geriatric computer than I was a week ago. Thanks Warren. I hope eating the pieces you ripped from my computer at least made you a little uncomfortable.

In any event, I'm going to bed.

How children learn to hate their parents

We officially have a picture of Warren with his finger up his nose. Don't ask me how he figured this out, but over dinner, we all turned to look and he had his index finger firmly up his nose. So, obviously, pictures were required.

And in about 15 years, I'll be able to name my price to keep these pictures under wraps. That's what parenting is, folks. Accumulating artillery in preparation for the ensuing battles.

Babies, can't live with them...

I think Warren is starting to wean himself. And while part of me is so glad to get to have my body all to myself again, I'm also feeling like he's a little tiny baby, and it's the only thing he and I have that is special, that Xtian can't do. It was the only way I was preferable to Dada, and now he's just too busy for it. Does everyone feel that way? Or is it especially hard because I'm not his primary care giver? Do stay at home moms get as upset? Or is it just one more thing that I'm making myself crazy over? Because, clearly, if I don't have five sources of freak out every moment of my life, I die. I just fall down and die.

We're officially on a nursing schedule of first thing in the morning (though, I usually have to wake him for it before I leave, he's not getting up for it), sometimes when I get home in the evening (but that usually lasts about 10 seconds, I think it's mostly for his comfort and a way to reconnect at the end of a long separation), and sometimes he nurses for a minute before bed. I think he likes the idea of nursing, since he will pull on my shirt and say "na- na" often, but then wanders off once he nurses for a second.

Are you hearing this internet? I'm a creepy mother of sons. This? This right here? Is how women who only have male children become those creepy overbearing, overly-clingy women who chase their sons all over the country, begging them to call! I can't have it. I will accept this latest rejection stoically, like the millions of women who have gone before me.

Does this mean I can start drinking more than my one drink per evening? Bring on the rum!

Oh my god, just SLEEP!

So, for fun tonight, I decided to put Warren to bed and then listen to him scream for a while. Warren has no set schedule and it shows. The kid almost never cries, except for bed time. Of course this could be because he sometimes naps until 6 pm. Of course, I have a hard time criticizing, since I'm not with him all day, but it's slowly making me want to pull my hair out.

JUST GO TO SLEEP! I would kill to have a full 12 hours of sleep available, neigh, mandatory to me every night. Instead, he screams. And we listen.

Since I'm always raving about how much fun he is, I figure it's only fair to mention that he is officially gagging on his own cries as I type. It's not all goofy faces and snuggles. But then, I'm pretty sure we all knew that.

Why I'm a crummy mom

I was just sitting here, trying to catch up with a few things on the computer, with Warren crawling all over the place, turning the printer on, then off then on again. And to keep him distracted from chewing on power cords, I took my cell phone which he loves, and threw it across the room, encouraging him to "go get it." This scenario repeated about five times.

That's right, I'm playing fetch with my 11 month old son so I can read blogs. That's quality parenting right there.

'Cause when I arrive, I bring the fire

The boy is mobile...and pantsless. He took 8 unassisted steps a few nights ago, and is playing with varying forms of walking, bouncing, scootching and walking on his knees. He enjoys emptying everything out of any reachable containment device. Kitchen drawers? Emptied. Dresser drawers? Emptied. Bathroom cabinets? Emptied. It's hard work, and Warren takes it seriously.

The other day, Xtian went to the bathroom, leaving Warren in the living room. They'd been dancing to the Sirius channels we get on our TV. When Xtian returned to the living room, Warren had the remote in his mouth, and an apparently free trial of the Playboy channel on the tv screen. Fantastic. Nothing like some early exposure to porn to really make a child's upbringing safe, secure and non-warping. Or to make sure he's solidly gay from day one.

Work is going well, I'm getting good feedback from the folks in charge, including the owner of the company. Which is good, since I moved my entire family up here for this job.

I've been out late at meetings and company required events every night this week. And mama's a little tired.

So, I'm going to go enjoy the delightful cocktail my cute househusband just brought me. Now if only I could get him to clean toilets while wearing pearls and high heels...

Goddamnit.

I arrived home early Tuesday afternoon, after running some work related errands. I decided to get Warren from daycare at his usual time, so I could have half an hour to get some things done around the house. I knew I wouldn't be home much, since as soon as Xtian got home, we would be running over to Jenn and Kate's new apartment. (Hurray! They're Here! It's AWESOME!)

So, I dicked around a little and made the weekly shopping list, got all my stuff ready for the next morning and tidied up a bit. I called Xtian to see where he was and if he'd be home soon, or if Warren and I should just head over to Jenn's, but he was in the middle of work stuff and said he'd call me back.

It was about time to get Warren, and daycare is so close, I decided to just walk over and carry my twenty pound butterball of a kid home. As I stepped outside, Crazy Captain Ron from across the street started chatting/harassing me. It's just what he likes to do. I managed to avoid most of the awkwardness that is a conversation with Captain Ron, but managed to fall into step, three feet behind some guy who was also walking down the street. I tried to vary my speed and create some distance without it being all "Hi, I'm totally not following you. I swear! Also, I'm not the police, straight though I look." But no matter how fast/slow I tried to walk, he was still right there, and clearly, he was sure I was up to no good. Really kind of weird. Finally my phone rang, giving me a perfect excuse to stop walking altogether. But, man, that was uncomfortable.

By this time, I was already standing right outside of Nana's (what we call the daycare lady). I ran in to gather Warren's stuff up, see how his milk stash was and was ready to run back out the door, when one of the helpers stopped us and said Nana needed to talk to me for a minute.
Nana came downstairs and asked if there was anyone who could pick Warren up at noon from now on. I replied, no of course not. Xtian and I both work full time, and our jobs take us anywhere from 30 to 200 miles from Oakland everyday. No way could we get away every day.

I still didn't really know where this whole conversation was going until Nana finally dropped it on me, "The state says I have too many kids, so as of Today I can't have Warren anymore." My daycare lady was breaking up with me.

I know. Warren's schedule is weird and it sucks for daycare providers. He's in full time, but only three days a week. So, unless you find that magical kid who needs it full time the other two days of the week, you're stuck with an open slot. But damn. Warren was just in the last month or so starting to enjoy going to daycare. He would get excited when he figured out where we were going. And all the folks there love him, and would spend 10 minutes every day telling me how gorgeous and fun he is. And that is like crack to any mama.

So, there we were on a Tuesday night, needing daycare for him Thursday and I couldn't take time off work since NO ONE else from my department was going to be at work for the rest of the week. I called Xtian and told him "Meet me at home NOW!" Because clearly, it's time for Coley to have a complete meltdown. And I still had to carry my hammy hammy baby home.

Nana referred me to a nice daycare lady, whom, coincidentally, we had actually interviewed 6 months ago when we were first looking for daycare. We liked her just fine, but Nana's house was bigger, closer and has a huge backyard. And Warren so loves being outside. So at least we had somewhere for him to go. I set up a meeting for Xtian and Warren to go over to the new lady's place and get all the paperwork so we'd be all set. She was prepared to take him starting Thursday, but I was feeling hesitant. At work on Wednesday, I waited to hear from my VP, but she never did show up. So, I let the HR lady know the situation, and told her, I'm working from home for the next few days. Here's my cell number, if anyone comes looking for me, have them call me, ok?
Fortunately, she didn't give me even a sideways glance about the whole thing. Which is good, because I was primed for a fight. So, I managed to make it to the meeting with the new lady, and we worked out a little introduction period for Warren. Rather than just dumping my kid, who's already slow to warm up to new people, directly into a new place with people he's never seen before, and abandoning him there all day. And for the next few days, we'll be going to the new place for a little bit so Warren gets to know the sights and sounds. Even so, I'm certain he's going to go through the few months of intense clinging and neediness he did when we first started daycare.
So, I'm at home for the rest of the week. Which kicks ass, but for shitty reasons.

I know being dumped from Daycare isn't personal and is strictly a business/licensing decision. But I can't help feeling rejected, and feeling like they rejected my kid. Which makes my heart hurt.

So that's my world. How're y'all doing?

PS. Anyone else really tickled by the Hillshire Farms' "Go Meat!" commercials? No? Just me? Ok.

Aww, Thanks Guys!

I'm still completely overwhelmed with the awesomeness that is Warren's non-fucked up head. I've spent the last 4 months or so in a constant state of worry. My entire mindset has been, "no decisions, no plans, nothing can be done until after..." after what? I don't really know. Sometimes it was after the appointment, in my less optimistic moments, after surgery. And now I'm still finding myself thinking, "Gosh, I'd really love to go do X, maybe after Warren's....OH WAIT! THERE IS NOTHING I HAVE TO WAIT FOR!" Very much a freeing feeling. But I still have all this built up anxious energy, so, I'm hoping to burn some it up at the gym today. And, weirdly enough, alongside all this anxious energy, is utter exhaustion from spending months poised on the verge of complete meltdown. Humans are odd.

Jen came over with a delightful bottle of wine to celebrate Warren's continuing streak of health and perfection. I drank a few glasses, and have no headache this morning. Go me!

I am, however, completely exhausted. Warren's been teething, and he's pretty miserable. He spent all day Sunday whining and sleeping fitfully, Monday he was pretty much ok, aside from waking up screaming an hour after I'd put him down for the night. He had a really rough day at daycare yesterday, but was so relieved when I went to pick him up that he couldn't stop smiling and laughing at me. So, that was just kind of delightful. Since Warren's such a daddy's boy, I don't get to be the one who makes it all better very often.

But then he refused to take his early evening/late afternoon nap, so was completely wrecked by 6 pm. So, I decided to put him down for the night, see how that went.
Turns out, not very well. He woke up crying an hour later, quickly escalated to constant fussing and moaning that only being smooshed into Xtian's neck could fix. So, I rubbed a little baby Orajel on his gums to give him a few minutes of relief. And that worked just long enough for me to grab a shower. While I was finishing my getting ready routines, I heard Xtian exclaim, "OH MY GOD!" Followed by a splashing sound.
Warren had thrown up all over the place. I was not aware that much of ANYTHING could fit inside my kid, but clearly, it does. So, at 10 pm, we're throwing Warren and Xtian into the bath, and cleaning floors. By then, Warren was completely exhausted and just out of control (well, as out of control as Warren gets, mostly quiet whining and some sniffles). Poor kid is just a hot mess this week. And he's even more pathetic, because he tries to smile and laugh in the midst of feeling like shit.

This is when I feel vaguely guilty for enjoying going away every day. Everyone kept telling me that I'd change my mind about wanting to stay home with the kid. So far: NOPE! While I love Warren and I do miss him, I'm more than happy to hand him off to Xtian or the daycare and let them deal with his fussiness all day. By the end of the weekend, I'm pretty much ready to send him back to Nana (what we call the daycare lady). Hence, if it ever becomes possible to be a single-income household, Xtian will be the one to stay home with the kids.

Happy Wednesday, I'll be the one still floating on a cloud of relief.

Verbal vomit, my favorite!

So, I think I hate the new color of my little page here. But I wanted to dick around with the sidebar stuff, and the editor was so enticing and has some new features. So, you start screwing around and in a matter of minutes, it's hideous. Of course, about that time I realize I've got shit to do, so just leave it with a strange combo of off-putting colors and say, "eh, at least it's not making my brain hurt to look at." This is exactly how I go about doing anything vaguely artistic. I start out trying to do something neat, then get bored, and say screw it. I'm awesome.

You know, I try to keep as much of my money in Oakland as I can. I like to support my local shops as much as possible, or at least frequent chains in my neighborhood. I've all but stopped eating fast food, which is also good. But the other night, we were watching a little tv, and saw a commercial for a new sandwich at a fast food joint. It looked delightful, so we said fuck it, and got some. Now, here's where we run into problems. Oakland is chock full of the worst fast food employees ever. Three sandwiches, all the same. Two of them were missing the very ingredients that made it different from any other burger. Nice job. And in classic fashion this place that advertises by talking about their flame-broiled burgers? Yeah, these were definitely microwaved. And it seems like all the restaurants in my neighborhood, chain or not, are like this. The worst service with completely shitty food, and they'll give you an attitude about it. Really makes me feel good about keeping my money in the neighborhood. I know, I live in the ghetto, but do we have to keep perpetuating the crappiness? For reals, how hard is it to NOT SUCK at your McJob? Of course no one wants to be there, but at least try not to throw my food on the floor before handing it to me.

In other news, in addition to the 5+ murders in my neighborhood last week, a woman was shot while she slept in her bed. The bullet was intended for someone else, but managed to miss the target, go through her wall, and kill her. I know my neighborhood is getting worse, but I make it a point to minimize my trips outside the home after dark, I stay out of the known problem areas, and do my best not to piss anyone off. And now even all that isn't enough. People who aren't involved in anything shady are being killed in their beds. West Oakland is really getting awful. Just a little more fuel on the "Get the Hell out of Oakland" fire.
Which is a shame. Aside from the growing violent crime, I really like Oakland. I like the people, the weather is unbeatable, seriously, it's just crusty urban enough and isn't totally gentrified, yet.
(Tangent: You got to love my comments when another house full of hippy/punky people moved in next door. "Goddamn white people! Just ruining my neighborhood!" Yes, I am white, thanks for asking. Sometimes I don't even make sense to myself. And no, I don't count as adding to the gentrification. I'm married to a black man, and have a mixed kiddo. I'm practically an honorary member of the community. So says I!)

Warren's only 4 months old (almost) and I've already had problems with the racial check boxes. Some forms have allowed me to check as many boxes as apply to ethnic and racial heritage. But a lot still force you to choose one. Well, that's just not going to cut it. He's not more white than black, or vice versa. And the whole, "One drop, and you're black" shit is just racist as can be. So, I've just been checking both boxes, and forcing the form reader to make that choice.
How is it that most of our government forms haven't figured out the whole "interracial parents" thing? I didn't think it was 1952, but apparently, I'm wrong. I didn't think biracial kids were that uncommon anymore. Why is this still ok?

I'm annoyed. Can you tell?

I keep waiting for the crazy first time parent thing to start happening. Not that I want it to, but I'm really not feeling that obsessive "I'm doing this wrong aren't I" pressure. We don't have many toys for him, I don't really think most things we have are even necessary. I tend not to worry about most things. My general parenting attitude can be summed up in, "eh, fuck it." Is it going to start up eventually, or since I'm a crazy person to begin with, am I just exhibiting those tendencies via milk supply obsession?

Meanwhile, my 16-plus-pound almost-4-month-old is starting to pull his knees under him and start pumping his legs while on his tummy. It's so close to mobile, I'm ready to put him inside a box to keep him from crawling. I'm totally unprepared for a crawling kid, it's not even funny. Shoot, that'll mean I'll have to do some baby-proofing. And we all know I'm lazy! I was hoping to be out of our current home before he is capable of self-propulsion. Hell, half our old-school heating vents don't even screw into the wall! I'm going to lose Warren into the heating ducts, and then I'll have to send the cat in after him. That'll be some top-notch parenting. I can't wait.

Ok, this is day two of brain-vomiting all over the place here. Someday I'll show up with an actual narrative arc, I promise. Just not today.

Fondly remembering hysteria

So, I was talking to my big sister the other night, and she reminded me of a conversation we'd had when Warren was only a few weeks old. I don't quite remember the details, but Warren was behaving like a baby, and I made the comment, "You know, I don't condone it or anything, but THIS is why people shake babies." And it was nice to be reminded how difficult the first several weeks with a baby were, when compared to how nicely things have been lately. The kiddo has been here for 15 weeks, and frankly, I'm afraid to talk about how easy he is. I don't know how I got to be so lucky, and I'm sure I'm just setting myself up for a really hard toddlerhood, or adolescence, but seriously, this kid is awesome. I can't remember the last time he full on CRIED. He fusses for a few minutes if I'm slow to feed him, and he gets a little whiny when he's overly tired. But other than that he smiles, and coos and makes happy shrieking sounds all the time. Seriously...ALL THE TIME.

Not to say there weren't hard times. I remember the day he screamed at me for 6 hours straight. He didn't sleep, he didn't want to eat. He screamed. At one point, about 2 hours in, all I could do, was put him in his bed, walk out of the room, walk out the front door, call Xtian and cry, "I'm going to murder your son." But, no one else was there. So, I yelled and sobbed at Xtian for a few minutes, then screamed into a pillow for a few more, then turned around, and picked up the screaming demon. And listened to him scream for a few more hours. I wholly believe that if we weren't biologically programmed to find our kids cute, no one would ever make it past 4 weeks of age.

But, I can't really complain. We've been so fortunate to avoid some of the biggest issues, no colic, no food sensitivities, no real sleep problems. And there were still days I had to practice my deep breathing so I wouldn't lose my shit. I have no idea how single parents do this. What do you do when there's no one to take the kid when you've finally reached your limit? And don't even get me started on kids who DO have colic, or sleep issues, or any of the myriad things that make this parenting business torture. Hats off to you all. No joke.

I got my first Shitty Parent Comment the other day. I'd heard that this stuff happens, but I'd not experienced it. People with kids will know what I mean. Another parent starts up a conversation then lays a nice backhanded compliment on you, or makes a thinly veiled judgmental comment about your kid/parenting. This one wasn't bad, but it had the edge of "Well, MY kid is better than yours." I was so unprepared, I didn't realize what she was saying until she was gone. Then I wanted to hunt her down, and rip every hair off her head. I'm going to be the terror of the playground, I can see it. Why can't we all just play nice?

Reinforcing Negative Behavior

So, you remember how I'm a nerdy overachieving type who will drive my family nuts with my ridiculous demands? Yeah. Warren rolled over for the first time on Sunday. Then again yesterday. Which really serves to reinforce my crazy. See? Push him for a few days, and he does what I want. Anyone want to see what SAT time will look like in my house?

The only thing that sucks? I haven't seen him in action yet. It was my first time missing a "first." And it made me realize that I'm probably going to miss a lot of firsts. And that just plain sucks. There isn't anything I can do about it (aside from quitting my job, and moving our family into a cardboard box, or scamming the Welfare program to keep me in organic food and satellite tv). It's just the way our family is set up, I'm probably always going to be the primary moneymaker, and frankly, I like it that way. I'm glad I'm able to work and have a husband who is so supportive and willing to take on a non-traditional role. But that isn't to say that I like leaving my family every day to drive an hour to work, spend 8 hours surrounded by people I generally dislike, spend another hour in traffic, only to find that I've missed everything.

But a part of me is glad that I miss all the shitty parts of parenting. I get Warren up and together in the morning, which is pretty delightful. He's just so happy to be awake and alive, and really, aside from the early hour, I wouldn't change a thing. Then when I get home, he's so happy to see me and to have me feed him, that he's a smiling cooing, laughing little darling. And within a couple of hours, he's off to bed. I don't have to change a million diapers, or wait for him to nap to be able to DO ANYTHING. I only have him when he's pleased as punch.

And then I feel guilty, for not feeling guilty. There's no winning this game, is there?