To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
September 13th – 19th
All of this week’s shots taken with my: Canon Powershot G9
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
Lazy Douche Enablers write guest posts for me every other Tuesday. That way, I can be a much better… you guessed it: Lazy Douche. I’ve been such a LD lately, that I hadn’t been posting the LD posts people wrote for me awhile back. One might say I don’t NEED the help. Regardless… Today’s Enabler is Veronica, of Sleepless Nights. In fact, she wrote this for me in March. I had to one-up her to show her that she can’t out-lazy douche me by holding it until September. Yup, I suck that hard.
Holy Crap, It’s Nearly March?
I looked at my calendar today and nearly had a fit. It’s almost March and I promised Lotus that I would guest post for her all the way back in December. I mean sure, there was this little thing like me giving birth in the middle of January, but hell, I should have had something put together by now, right?
It’s not like I don’t have the time or anything, Isaac spends most of his days sucking on my boobs, so surely I would be able to tap SOMETHING out. [Heh, kinda like I am doing now while he feeds.]
Anyway, back to the topic at hand.
I write a blog called Sleepless Nights. I have a toddler who doesn’t sleep very well and a newborn who isn’t much better. The only difference is the toddler learned to sleep without my nipple in her mouth a little while back. Therefore, I feel sort of qualified to talk about lack of sleep.
You know what drives me batshit insane? When I’m sitting on the couch at 8pm, trying to breastfeed a fussy baby to sleep, occasionally stopping to let him bounce on my stomach/suck on my nose, and the news comes on touting some crap about sleep.
‘Lack of sleep can be extremely detrimental to your health…’
[You think I don't know that Jackass? I haven't slept in 24 hours here]
‘…and new studies have shown that sleeping in of a weekend can actually help reduce the harm lack of sleep causes…’
[Keep going idiot. What about those of us WHO HAVE SMALL CHILDREN AND CANNOT SLEEP IN?! Do we not count?'
'...so take the chance to catch up on sleep whenever you can.'
[Splutter cough cough cough curse]
This is where Nathan broke in and nearly cost himself his manhood.
‘See sweetheart? You can’t complain when I sleep in of a weekend now, because they have proved that it has health benefits!’
WTF? So what, I’m IMMUNE to lack of sleep simply because I pushed a baby out of my vagina 5 weeks ago? You know, lack of sleep doesn’t affect me anymore because I am a mother? Seriously, just call me superfuckingwoman. While I’m at it I will just do all the housework and cooking too, because damn if you don’t work! No matter that I am up all night with a fussy baby and awake all day with a whirlwind toddler.
The bitterness. I have it.
And I suspect I am not the only one.
Sleep deprived, with baby vomit caked in the crook of my arm [I suspect there is some in my ear too, but I'm not game to check] and the day stretching before me; an endless stream of feeds and food prep and housework and ohmyholyhell can you pick that back up and DON’T throw that at Isaac and PICK those books back up and if you tip that potty on the floor again I might just LOSE IT, the grass always looks greener over there.
Sure he might get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, a shower every day and actual conversation with adults, but me? I get to smell the top of my sons head as he nuzzles into my breast. I get to run my hands through soft-as-silk hair. I get toddler kisses and declarations of ‘I love MUMMY!’ I get the soggy cuddles after tantrums and the rare as rare baby smiles.
Even better though? I get to palm off all the crappy toddler nappies ‘because when was the last time you changed one of Isaac’s?’
And that my friends, is priceless and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Sleep or no sleep.
Veronica is near and dear to my heart. She has been my friend since before the birth of “Sarcastic Mom,” enduring my Myspace Blog posts, and helping me gain the courage to actually start a real website. She was my first commenter, and she has stuck through with me this whole time. She is a beautiful, compassionate, strong, funny, and talented woman. I am honored to call her my friend. Go check in on her at Sleepless Nights – if she’s actually catching a nap for once in a row, just tuck her in, okay?
The second Monday of the month sometimes (when I pull my head out of my ass) means I’ll post a piece about the things that John and I do to help lift a little burden off of Mother Earth’s shoulders. It’s this thing I started doing after I was completely disgusted on a walk almost 2 years ago (wow, it’s been that long?). I was appalled at how much trash people just throw on the ground, basically.
Back then, I realized I was pretty disgusted with a lot of things I was (or wasn’t) doing, too. No, not the Asian Porn fetish or even the Kitten Juggling. That stuff is fun! I’m talking about the stuff that’s not so good for the environment (like the Aqua Net huffing problem I had).
So we started changing little things in our life for the better, to help the earth, its inhabitants, and ourselves. And I started a project – PSBN – and began posting about those things here, to share with and inspire you. (So consider yourself shared with. And inspired.) It was a whole Happy Happy Love Love Green Living Be Awesome To The Earth I Believe That Children Are The Future Teach Them Well And Let Them Lead The Way kind of thing.
Did you see what I did there? Ahhh, yeah. You liked it, didn’t you?
I’ve gotten really lazy about putting up these posts. I have to be honest with you – I know that some of you have been supportive about them and enjoyed them, but they generally don’t seem to draw must interest and like anyone, that kind of makes it harder for me to work up the energy to make an effort and put them together. That assholishness apathy on my part as well as being lazy as hell just not creating as much time for posts anymore overall means I’ve skipped several of these “second Mondays” without publishing anything for PSBN.
I know. I’m a shitbrain.
This, by the way, happens to be something I abhor about myself – I get really into something, but then I get lazy and I don’t maintain my momentum. I forget, or I find other things to amuse me, and I lag off. (Hahaha, you thought I was going to say jack off. Yes you did. Liar. Ok, I thought I was going to say it.)
This *might* be why Dana called me a lazy douche last year, and why I’ve run with that whole “I’m a Lazy Douche!” gag for this whole time. Because it’s really the truth! (I still haven’t answered all those questions, Dana. You were so right! Isn’t that awesome?)
LAZY DOUCHE, FTW.
And that really actually segues well into today’s PSBN topic, which is Reusable Totes for shopping.
I loved the shit out of the idea of reusable totes. In fact, I took that idea and I bought it a nice steak dinner. I bought it many, many glasses of fine wine. I told it how sexy hot it was and then? I took it home with me, full of unclean intentions. I rubbed that freaking reusable totes idea up against my trembling body until… uh. Um. *clears throat* I think I’m getting carried away. What were we talking about again?
Oh. Yeah. I was in love with the idea of using some bags over and over again.
Don’t Waste – Reuse, beeshes.
So. I totally freaking bought them and started using them every time I got groceries.
I was totally single-handedly saving the world.
SUPER HEROIN IN THE HOUSE, BEESHES.
Wait. Wait. That makes it sound like I was shooting some kind of incredibly refined drugs into my veins in my domicile. And while that might be true, it wasn’t what I was trying to say.
I AM AWESOME. You can say thank you any time. (For saving Earth, and all. You’re welcome.)
So yeah to recap: I was using the bags and it was awesome (like shooting up drugs).
But then I would forget them at home.
And (like shooting drugs) it started happening more and more. (It’s either premature aging, excessive alcohol consumption, or all those times I’ve slammed my head into the wall.)
So yeah. I would forget them constantly… and I would berate myself.
Me in the parking lot of the grocery store:
“You stupid, stupid bitch! You forgot the fucking bags AGAIN!”
“Well you could just drive home and get them before you shop.”
(Yes, I talk back to myself. DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T. Also, if you don’t… just, you know, pretend like you do and lets move on so I can protect the fragile shell of my imagined sanity.)
“DRIVE HOME AND GET THEM? ARE YOU A MORON?”
“Uh. Uh. No?”
“Well, see… CLEARLY YOU ARE. If we drive home and get them we’ll be POLLUTING MORE and, also? WASTING GAS. Do you even have two brain cells left to rub up against one other? I swear I hate that I’m you.” *spits in own face*
(That is a talent of amazing proportions. I can sense your jealousy.)
“But, but…” *sobbing*
“You make me SICK. Pathetic. Why don’t you just grab a broom handle and stick it up Mother Earth’s ass and call it a day, okay?”
“I am going to strangle you with the plastic grocery bags when we get home.”
It’s really embarrassing, by the way, to have this kind of argument with yourself in a public place. I mean, usually this kind of thing happens only at home…
“You stupid whore, did you forget to take meat out to thaw for dinner AGAIN!??? Come here so I can SLAP YOU WITH THE HAND OF RIGHTEOUS FURY.”
…and at least there’s no one to gasp or scurry away blatantly. And no parents telling their kids, “Honey, don’t look, just keep walking. Hurry. She might hurt us.”
I guess what I’m saying is that employing the use of those Reusable Grocery Totes is REALLY REALLY AWESOME and can help us SAVE OUR PLANET if we actually remember to bring them with us to the store.
And what I’m asking, no, *begging* you to tell me is, What the hell do you awesome people who use them every time do to REMEMBER TO ACTUALLY BRING THOSE SHITS WITH YOU?
Please help me. Please.
Omg, I was going to end the post there, but then I just totally had an idea for making them into underwear so you’d always have one with you. No, wait. That would be gross, wouldn’t it?
Oh, and while you’re sitting there trying to figure out exactly how to make me start taking meds, please link up any posts you’ve written recently that discuss “green” topics. Thanks!
To view all my photos, visit my Flickr Photostream
I used to think that my intense desire to have children, to be a mother, was enough.
You have to have more than desire. You have to be more than needy.
I face a truth over and over again: I am not a good enough mother.
It’s in the details. I am not good enough in Situation A with Process B. I am not good enough at modeling Behavior XYZ. I do not respond to Tantrum of Intensity #524 with the proper level of Calming Voice Version #683.
It’s in the Overall. Good Mother = Someone Else. Me = Poser.
Yes, I love him. Love is not enough. It just isn’t.
Often, I tell myself maybe it is enough that I try and that I love him very much and that he is a happy boy most of the time.
“No, you are wrong,” I jab back. I am not a good enough mother and I need to prove it to myself with more than emotion. I must prove it with logic, too. So I make a list of reasons that indicate I am possibly a good parent. I also make a list of reasons why I am clearly not a good parent. Inside my head I hold them next to one another.
The disparity is overwhelming.
One list is mocked by the other.
One list loses. The other list wins. One list shrinks into a corner, dwarfed by the other. The other list is tall and wide and heavy and has big, mean muscles. One list whimpers that it wants to be better, but it doesn’t know how. The other list looks down at me with a smirk on its face, triumphantly crushing me.
Standing in the hulking shadow of all the reasons why I am not a good parent, I can’t deny the truth born out by the comparison.
The Truth. About how I’m not good enough.
I’ve been telling myself that truth in a million different ways my whole life.
This is just another version of that “truth.”
You know what really mind jacks me when I’m applying The Truth in this scenario nowadays?
I grieve my lost pregnancies, finding it impossible to let those babies go.
But in this past year and a half, I have had the thought countless times already that, somehow, it is good that I did not have them.
Because I would not have been a good enough mother to them.
And that is a terrible, painful thought to have.
The guilt is unbearable some days.
The Truth hurts.