It's a morning of Supermom! Precious baby slept in this morning and so I am full of real, non-coffee, energy. It's amazing! I made heart shaped tuna patties for dinner, washed an alarmingly full sink of dishes (it's Monday, I can't really use "the cleaning lady is coming soon" excuse, because she won't be here until Thursday), and I did two loads of laundry. TWO. Plus, I went on the elliptical for a 15-minute workout and have not yet had anything unhealthy.
Now all of this horn tootin' means it's time to come clean on my latest motherly lie:
"I'm sorry honey," I said to my three-year-old, "but your teacher doesn't want you to bring your water bottle to school because she's worried about the water."
Why is it that her teacher's word is gold, anyway?
Monday, December 24, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Finally...my first post.
I have been a mother for 1,114 days and starting a blog has been on my To Do list since day one. But I am a strong believer in spending time doing things that you are good at, and I happen to have nearly mastered the art in procrastination. I'm sure 1,114 days is not the longest record, but if it is...well, hello, congratulations to me for making a record!
Motherhood has taught me some really interesting (and not all complimentary) things about myself. For instance, it is possible that I overindulge in my telling of motherly lies (these are also known as just plain lies, but the motherly in front of it makes it feel better.) An example of a motherly lie would be telling my daughter that her bus driver is still sleeping when in reality, I'm just not ready to wait outside for the bus yet. Don't judge me. I'm motherly.
I've also learned about how awesome I am. For instance, I can wash dishes with one hand and not break a single plate, cup, or bone. I can also close my eyes and pretend that the baby's wails are really an introduction to a great opera. Okay, what I just said? A motherly lie. When she cries, I start making deals with God.
Last, motherhood has taught me that it's okay to make mistakes. There is no perfect way to do anything and I am always willing to learn about and implement new techniques. As it happens, my mothering tends to change drastically from month to month, just around the same time that the Parents magazine arrives at my doorstep. Hey, at least I can still say that one part of me is still flexible.
Now the inspiration for writing about the baby's cries was not random...she really is starting to call for my attention from the other room.
I promise, I'll be back before 1,114 days are up.
I'm serious; I just put into my iPhone calendar and that's my second brain.
Motherhood has taught me some really interesting (and not all complimentary) things about myself. For instance, it is possible that I overindulge in my telling of motherly lies (these are also known as just plain lies, but the motherly in front of it makes it feel better.) An example of a motherly lie would be telling my daughter that her bus driver is still sleeping when in reality, I'm just not ready to wait outside for the bus yet. Don't judge me. I'm motherly.
I've also learned about how awesome I am. For instance, I can wash dishes with one hand and not break a single plate, cup, or bone. I can also close my eyes and pretend that the baby's wails are really an introduction to a great opera. Okay, what I just said? A motherly lie. When she cries, I start making deals with God.
Last, motherhood has taught me that it's okay to make mistakes. There is no perfect way to do anything and I am always willing to learn about and implement new techniques. As it happens, my mothering tends to change drastically from month to month, just around the same time that the Parents magazine arrives at my doorstep. Hey, at least I can still say that one part of me is still flexible.
Now the inspiration for writing about the baby's cries was not random...she really is starting to call for my attention from the other room.
I promise, I'll be back before 1,114 days are up.
I'm serious; I just put into my iPhone calendar and that's my second brain.
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