Back to the daily grind April 1, 2008

Yes, it’s true. I’ve accepted a job. A real job. One that requires me to show up at a particular time every morning and stay until a particular time every afternoon. One that requires me to wear real pants (not the kind that are made for exercising and have yet to be used for anything that even remotely resembles exercise). One that requires me to wear a bra. Oh. My. God… what have I done?

I have love, love, loved the past two years and two months at home with Jules and I wish I could say that I’ve had enough of it and that I’m all pumped to go back to work but I’m completely torn. There’s a part of me that is genuinely looking forward to having a distraction from domestic life. For two years I’ve been focused on one thing - the all singing, all dancing king of all that is adorable: Did he poop? Did it look normal? Has he eaten enough? Were the foods nutritious and somewhat natural? Is he overtired? Is he overstimulated? Is he understimulated? Is. This. Kid. Ever. Going. To. Sleep? Did he just smash his head onto that concrete floor? How hard does a kid have to smash his head before you take him to the hospital? You get the idea (insert sudden moment of clarity: is it any wonder I have nothing to blog about? My life blows to anyone who is not Julian). So there’s that part that thinks, man, I’m going to have stuff to think about. I’m going to be using my brain which, let’s face it, has become pretty cobwebby over the past couple years. I’m going to have time to read books on my commute, I’m going to talk to humans on a regular basis about things other than kids and I may just have things to offer to an adult conversation, I’m going to get a paycheque - someone’s going to PAY me to be exhausted at the end of the day, it’s no longer a volunteer position. But then the other part of me is DYING inside because, like, I’m not going to know if he pooped and what did it look like? and was he overtired? and did he nap? and was he overstimulated? and what if he has one of those moments where he just wants to cuddle with his mom and OH MY GOD how will I survive not seeing his little face every moment of the day? It’s just become so natural for me to forget about anything to do with me in favour of anything to do with him that it all just feels very wrong. I’m sure it’ll be good for me blah blah blah but I’m just not sure it’s supposed to be about me right now, ya know? The good news: I really am optimistic that it’ll make for some more interesting & frequent blogging. It’s aaaaallll about the blog people.

P.S. So this all means John’s going to be staying at home with Jules now and it’s during such a fun time. Thanks to my FABULOUS parenting, he’s such a delight – he talks up a storm, he’s good-natured, he has little manners (occasionally), he plays and laughs and learns so much every day and he can totally participate in games and rides and soon it’s going to be summer and John’ll have a car at his disposal and will be able to take him to wonderland and ontario place and all those exciting, fun places and *sigh* it all just sounds like a dream… But I swear to LUCIFER that if John suddenly slides into first place and becomes the “favourite” parent there will be HELL TO PAY. I spent 9 months growing that child inside me and another 10 months feeding him from my cracked and bleeding nipples (okay, so maybe they didn’t bleed the entire time but man alive aren’t having the words “cracked” and “nipple” in the same sentence enough?) I gave up red wine for this kid, people… for, like, 18 months! and I have spent every second of the past three years worrying about his wellbeing and did I mention the red wine? Uhhh… not that it’s a *he-hem* competition or anything… buuuuut I’m looking for ways to buy Julian’s love so if anyone has any suggestions I’m totally open.