A Mom's Life

Some people may think that Andy and I are "lax" parents. Our house isn't a free range farm by any means, although just throwing food on the ground, and letting the kids wander around and pick it up when they are hungry, sounds pretty enticing. It's true that we aren't the strictest parents and that, regularly, there is mutiny on the bounty and we are held hostage by little pirate people. The drill sergeant in our house is 3 feet tall and belts outs commands like, "Get me a drink!", "Turn on Netflix!", or "You will not wash my hair!" while wearing only a pullup, squinting her eyes, and pointing an accusatory finger in our direction. Our kids are often in charge. I'm not going to lie to you. The dog may also be in charge from time to time. That's just the way it goes. As more and more of our peers have a third child, we are, unfortunately, asked if we, too, plan to expand. Are these people insane in the membrane? Have they been

I know this much to be true: 1. The kids will get sick, often. 2. The kids will get sick when I have a multi-day span of time when I must be at work, no ifs, ands or buts. 3. I will get the call first. Apparently, all schools/child care centers forget that Andy is also on the emergency contact list. 4. The call will come within ten minutes of arriving at work. 5. If Andy is not traveling, I will successfully coerce him into taking time off to watch the kids. He will do his due diligence and will make sure to make me feel bad about it. Though I have talked about the important work event taking place on this day, he will not hesitate to ask, "What? You can't take the day off? Is work busy?" 6. If Andy is not available, I will pick up the sick child who will either a)smile and seem totally fine and spend the rest of the day laughing, singing, and watching TV while I attempt to "telecommute" during the rest of the sick day. Or b) spend the car ride home

I have always enjoyed writing but never felt like I had something worth writing about until I had Caroline. The intensity of motherhood, the insanity of co-parenting, and the deep love I had for her compelled me to write it all down. Looking back at my blog posts is like reading my journal. It makes me laugh and it makes me cry. Blogging, however, is not journaling because I am posting my thoughts and feelings in cyberspace. I'm sharing my opinion with the whole world, or at least my friends and family and facebook-land. It's a very vulnerable place to be but it is also empowering. I'm often validated by the positive feedback I receive from a post. I just love to hear that someone else relates to what I've written or has found it touching or humorous. I'm delighted when I learn that someone has read it aloud (I always try to read each post aloud to Andy but he refuses and insists on reading it to himself.)even if it is to her annoyed husband who is sick of my bitc