When I told my mother I was going to start blogging she wanted to know why? Here it is: What better therapy -- or cheaper -- than writing in cyberspace about your deepest frustrations, hopes and joys. What a great way to let go of anger and hurt, and celebrate your fortune and success. So, here I am, ready to go, and wondering where do I start?
Who I Am
I'm a 30-something mother of two, a 10-year old boy, a 17-year old girl, a husband, three dogs, and a partridge in a pear tree. Okay, I don't actually have the partridge in a pear tree. I have three dogs, and they would eat any birds they saw on sight. On top of all that, I'm a full-time Federal Government employee. (No, I don't work for the post office!)
My son, Mr. Particular, and daughter, Ms. Underdog, are both my reason for being and my reason for being insane. We never intended to have children seven years apart, but apparently he who laughs last laughs loudest. Our daughter was a wonderful, albeit very early surprise in our relationship. Who would have thought when we tried to get pregnant later it would turn out to be such a tedious and painful task. Thousands of dollars, and innumerable pin pricks and surgical procedures later, Mr. Particular stormed into our lives.
I've often pondered the irony of the situation. Whether it was truly God's will, or the will of my body, who knows. I'm a planner by nature. Perhaps this was the first of many lessons placed before me as I try to raise these unique and creative children to the best of my ability (no laughing here!).
My husband, whom I will fondly refer to as Mr. Brilliant, was a great sport through this exercise in fertility.
He was more than happy to hold my hand and offer support during our daughter's birth. When it was all said and done, it was pretty uneventful. Other than learning the birthing nurse was his former girlfriend...Aghhh! While she was no longer a rival for his attention, to this day I don't understand how he could think that detail would not matter. Any women wants to be at their best when meeting their husband, or boyfriends, former flame, and I was NOT at my best.
Several years later the true test came as we began hard core fertility treatments in an effort to conceive Mr. Particular. Brilliant became very skilled at sticking me in the butt with a needle several times a day. I looked like a pincushion, and acted like a psycho. But in the end, it was worth it. I should write about that experience sometime. It was far out!
Remember that commercial from the late 70s or early 80s -- I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in pan. I thought there was a law against false advertising?
Life is not a commercial. It's damn hard being a working mother and wife who can bring home the bacon AND fry it up AND help the kids with their homework AND clean the house AND do it all well -- I don't do it all well. Not even close, but I do try. My greatest worry in life -- my children will grow up and feel I've not met their needs. I'm sure millions of women across the planet go to bed every night with the same weight on their shoulders. I know I'm not alone, but sometimes it feels that way.
That's what this blog is all about...my efforts...my success...my failure. It's my way of looking into my bubble and trying to learn from myself, and my family.
Someone once said if you weren't learning, you were dying. Well, I'm not ready to give up the ghost yet.
Stay tuned and I'm sure you'll get a few laughs, and maybe share a lesson or two with me.