I have just nominated a friend of mine as the first official member of Carly's "Motherhood Is a Life Sentence" club. (No F in there... we're too tired for that shit.) It's all based on her reply to my "vent" email about how my evening went. (Here's a hint, class. It didn't go well. Yelling and punishments and crying and guilt. Just another day in parental paradise.) She sealed her membership with "....the chore sheet I have posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen, that NO ONE FOLLOWS, ..."
The worst feeling in the world is when you think you're the only one who sucks at this gig they call "parenting." It's nice to know that other people are frantically bailing out THEIR rowboat too.
Those cute little babies, they smell nice and their little toes are so damn cute, and you can't sleep through the crying. You get sucked into their games and start to think of Elmo as a friend, and then ---whammo....
You turn away for a minute, and they tell a teacher that a burglar shot a dog that you don't even have, or they sneak in their room to put on eyeshadow just before they get in a car for a family party. (If you're lucky, it's the boy, and the girl, and not vice versa. Luck is all relative here.)
I'd write more but I'm out of steam. Maybe it's the glass of wine I'm sharing with a friend even though B is an hour away.
Thanks for the support
Random thoughts, which I post while I am pretending I am STILL age 39.99999! Join me for my next 40 years...
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"You can check in any time you want, but you can never leave..."
Hotel California, The Eagles.
do we get badges?? (winks)
no guns!!
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