I will NOT complain about how hard it is to be a stay at home mom.
I know there are working moms who would give their left one to stay home with their kids. I’m pretty damned lucky.
But the toll this gig takes on my sanity can be a little steep. Seeing as how I never actually go home from work, there’s not a whole lot of “down time”.
Here is a small sampling of things I caught myself saying in the last week:
“No footbaths in the lego!”
“Why do these scissors smell like pork?”
“Dinosaurs didn’t have penises OR vaginas! They just WERE!”
“Please! Quit kicking your pizza!”
Yeah, I need a wee break.
As luck would have it, a vacation is in my future. On Wednesday night, the husband and I are packing up and getting the hell out of town for 5 days. (Where am I going? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not too big. It’s not too small. It’s just the size of, well, itself.)
In that time, I would have posted at least once. and I don’t want to be one of those negligent parents who goes off for a week and leaves their children at home, to survive on toilet water and raw pasta. So I’ve enlisted a babysitter for the blog.
I have a feeling she’s the kind of babysitter who would have invited boys over, and drunk her way through the liquor cabinet. But at the same time, they’d be nice boys, and at least she wouldn’t try to replace the purloined booze with water. Her name is Rassles. Some of you know her, all of you should. Be nice. I’m only paying her 3 bucks an hour and all the popsicles she can eat.
Until next week, au revoir!