I don’t know about this dollhouse dad. . . he seemed nice when we got him, but recently he’s been coming in late and I think he may have quit his job. I found him like this at 10 am. Not good.
I think that this is a big part of why my kids love me:
Here’s Miss Willow on her birthday, in one of her Textile Fetish shirts:
And, here’s the girl hummingbird. Sophie says that the girls drink from the yellow feeder, because yellow is Sophie’s favorite color.
One of the things I dislike about myself is this tendency to be a fence-sitter. I can see both sides of things too often, when sometimes I wish I just had a strong opinion. I think that I’m going to most likely get a part time job soon. Somewhere between 20-30 hours a week. For five minutes I think how great it will be. The girls will love going to a daycare/preschool type place where they can be outside more and play with other kids rather than sit home watching tv while I try for the fifth time that day to get the kitchen clean. The boys will be, for the most part I think, in school. I’ll get some outside contact with people over the age of 12. I will have real insurance and maybe even, don’t jinx it now, chiropractic coverage. It’s all in the early planning stages, but none of it is too far fetched.
Then, for the next five minutes, I think that I would hate to have a job right now, that while Sophie would like daycare, Willow would be miserable. The only times I leave her, she’s with her dad, and this would be a huge thing for her. Or so I would like to think, perhaps. And since the job I’m thinking of is not a high paying one, I would lose money when childcare costs are figured in. But, I really need the benefits, and can only get insured through a group plan.
I can’t seem to decide if I would feel really relieved or heartbroken to drop my kids off and go work for a few hours. Maybe it would be both.
My friend D came to visit from Mass. in February with her girls. We didn’t get to see her older daughter, who played with my kids when they lived nearby, but we got to meet baby M, who is stunning. Her cheeks alone gave me severe baby lust. If I get that job with the benefits, I need to get a tubal. I always swore I’d NEVER have one, but I find myself thinking it would be a good idea. The thought of another baby makes me frozen with terror. Until five minutes go by, and I imagine how cute a little boy who looked like John would be and then I know that I need to do something soon. I know, slap me. Anyway, D is very happy with her new life on the east coast. It was great to see her, and hard to believe that it’s been a year since she left. She was one of the friends I loved being with, as opposed to the mothers of my children’s friends that I feel awkward around. There’s one mom at the school who is always telling me what I should do. Perhaps it should bother me, but I sort of make a game out of trying to guess what she’ll lecture me on before she does it. I just want more Ds in my life and less lecturers.
Guess what? I’m the #2 match on google for "what is a pirate’s favorite letter?"
Wow. Looking at that picture of those cookies made ME want to be your best friend.
That picture of dollhouse dad is hilarious! I might steal it so I can have a good laugh every now and then.
I was just thinking today how I want friends who don’t judge me even when I make completely different parenting decisions. It’s hard to find folks who just let you be–or make you want to just let things be.