a woman with no common sense

i watched the movie party girl recently, and if you ignore the cheesy happy ending, it was quite relevant. i did it during an extended lunch. i left work and never returned. there go 4 hours of sick leave. like all celebrities, i blamed it on exhaustion. sleep deprivation has a way of catching up to me quickly these days. after the movie i took a guilt-nap, which is defined as lying in a bed sleepy enough to doze away but too tired and guilty to actually rest.

many times i find myself fantasizing (between yawns) about uppers, both legal and illegal, to help me through the days (daze?) of semi-permanent single motherhood. not to worry. it never goes anywhere. it couldn't. i'm too tired to do anything i'm not required. recently it's my personal appearance that suffers the most, along with any other avenue of personal growth, like books or a clean bellybutton. i'm not bitter. i know it's temporary. in another five years, i might be mine again. my consolation prize is hoping that my vampire children MIGHT have nothing to tell their shrinks. i've spent so many years blaming my parents that i'll consider myself successful if i've raised sons that are are grateful and happy to be a part of our family culture.

every once in a while i play hooky, make time for myself during a busy day, or just leave the fone on the floor in pieces after it's inadvertently slipped off my jello gloves. if my two kids are safe, i can't be bothered to bend down. if i don't play, they pay. once my son asked me why i spent so much alone time. my answer was simple: which mommy do you like better? relaxo-mom beats the one with the lists and neuroses every time. and its not that i'm an absentee parent, i just place a higher value on the quality of the time i spend with them vs the amount. i am a working mother after all, and my time for them is entirely for them; only dad can interrupt.

I spend my days attempting to do things so opposite in the spectrum of parenting in order to provide one on one activities and attention for each kid. sometimes i win, and sometimes we all loose. the juggling, the pseudo-scheduling, the things that will perpetually go wrong: its enough to kill any childless. it's why we go all efexor on ourselves trying to raise model citizens, not to mention the pressure we sign up for under the guise of re-living the glory days and undoing the mistakes of our parents.

in order to succeed or remain competitive, parents (and all people for that matter) are expected to be in a million places at a time, taking on a variety of roles. If we are not raising our kids, we are thinking about it. having childless friends makes it easier. its nice to have a clean kid-free zone to relax in, a refuge. they in turn get nieces and nephews they don't truthfully have see at christmas, or any holiday for that matter. surrounding oneself with the childless is refreshing. no diaper talk, no need to point out the perverts in the neighborhood, just good old fashioned boring adult conversations over wine, peppered with some inevitable whining that falls on deaf ears, which is revitalizing. sometimes i even get to feel superior. and empathy is not all you need. all it takes is a friend to overlook my baby momma drama in order to gain a lick of outside perspective and go home happy to a messy apartment and mystery-stained sheets. good nite.