i’m not really a waitress

… and other true confessions of a woman who promised to never write a blog post as lame as this.

the bullet format is necessary because i can hardly think, given that i work more than a sane person would, have a super awesome life with a preschooler, try to be more than a worker and mother (fail), and am pregnant. it’s like that.

– i have chosen not to buy flowers this year for fiscal reasons. it sucks. if i met my budget in a back alley i would go ninja on it’s ass and lay it to rest, for good.

– this said, i have a small garden, primarily of lavender, and i think it reflects on me nicely. vain, i know.

– the only math concept i understand is that the whole is greater than the sum of it’s parts. i think.

– i find the titles, and worse yet, the abbreviations, of ‘stay at home mother’ and ‘working out of the home mother’ to be eff’n ridiculous. if they were people, it is likely i would find them ingratiating and want to punch them in the face. if i ever refer to myself as either of these, in any form, punch me in the face.

– i still dream about you. a lot. i hate to admit it, but i do. i don’t know why you come to me in my dreams, but you do. i hope you are well.

– i went for a pedicure recently, which was probably nice. i fell asleep, however, and woke up with drool on my face. the good news is, my toes are pretty.

– i think i might be stagnating and this terrifies me. thing is, i don’t have the cosmic power to take on any more growth right now. me and the universe will have to develop a plan that is conducive to mommy brain in a year or two. stay tuned.

– my son, one day, whilst reflecting on some endings and a lack of groceries, took a deep sigh and whimpered “no more swimming, no more dance class, no more yogurt”. it slayed me. worse yet, some children his age know real trauma and real grief.

– the person i miss most in my life is the cleaning lady we had for a brief and serendipitous time before i found out we were brewing a baby and cut all extra spending. shallow? oh, wait, i don’t care. i. want. her. back.

– i border on being completely unable to have normal social conversations anymore. as you may know, my job ate my life but it also ate my ability to get to know people without having to complete an interview and assessment. oh, and complete a background check, but that’s normal. ahem.

– last night i had a dream my husband had an affair with a 20 year old who seduced him by dancing to “the thong song”. gah.  if this, in any way, is an indicator of possible threats to our monogamy, i think i’m okay with it, just for the laughs.

– though quite relaxed and cas about our current pregnancy i have, admittedly, had two shocking and unsettling flashbacks of birth and subsequently experienced sheer terror knowing that i will be participating in said carnage once again. omg.

– i am bored with myself and concerned that i have lost the ability to write anything of interest. i think it might be time for a nap.

peace out, hh.

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2 Comments to “i’m not really a waitress”

  1. This too shall pass, hang in there my lovely daughter – you will ‘become your own’ as your children grow into lovely human beings. With motherhood (good/fabulous/best motherhood) comes being a martyr. Your time will come once again!

  2. Listen to your mom, she clearly knows some $hit about mothering if she raised you. I know we are not really close friends but I have always admired you from “afar” and your ability to accomplish… whatever it is you have decided you want to accomplish, and I have no doubt you will continue to do that. BUT cut yourself some slack sometimes, you are growing another human being INSIDE YOUR BODY!!! as well as mothering one that is already on the outside, as well as working an emotionally taxing job, as well as maintaining a marriage…. holy crap, just sit down for a minute, you don’t have to become someone else just yet 😉 xoxoxox

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