Kicking Myself!

There comes a day in this modern age that we live in when our children grow up way to early. That day came on Friday, and it was no fault but my own. Ella has been asking me since she was six for a cell phone. What world is it that we live in where a six year old would get a cell phone, let alone know how to use one. My sister bought her two girls each a phone a couple of years ago. They were the ripe age of 5, and 7. Yeah wow I know! Well ever since this Ella has been asking for a phone. I told her there was no way in hell she would be getting a phone until she was at least 14. So cue to last Thursday when it's 4:00 pm and I'm still in town realizing that Ella will be home any second to an empty house. I knew she would panic! I tried calling our neighbors but no one was home. I tried calling our house phone hoping she would answer...even though I was pretty sure that it hadn't been put back on it's charger for at least a couple of weeks. Come to think of it I wasn't sure I knew where it was at all.
I raced home picturing a crying Ella searching for us. I knew she would not let me live this down. So as I pulled up and ran into the house calling out her name, apologizing before she can mutter a word. I found her getting a snack like nothing has happened at all. I was glad she didn't hate me but still it scared me. What if something happened to her while I was gone? Thoughts of terror flooded my mind. "We are getting you a phone Ella!" the look of joy on her face was priceless. It's as if I just handed her the Holy Grail.

I know why we all need Prozac

     To say that Cormac is not a good sleeper is an understatement. He hasn't slept through the night in 8 months. Therefore neither have I. He tosses and turns, yells, and sometimes giggles in his sleep, keeping us up all night. I average about 5 hours of sleep on a good night. I do have a great husband that does take the little monster in the morning, allowing me to sleep in. But lately he's been working more and therefore it's just Cormac and I in the morning after Ella (my lovely, vivacious 9 year old) leaves for school. So the other day with leftover mascara from two days earlier burning my eyes, I wake up with Corm and do the most natural stay-at-home Mom thing. (after I make coffee) I turn on the TV. I was scrolling through the million channels with naturally my first stop being E! Hoping for some whack-job Kardashians or maybe some Sex and the City. Nope. What was on was "THS: Rich Kids Who Kill." Um no! I need some happy, not some killing. So next was "TLC's A Baby Story," yeah hell no! The last thing I need is to be reminded of horrific labor pain. My Vagina has still not forgiven me for the size of Cormac's head.
      As I continue to scroll through, one horrific show after another, is the only thing on! With such titles as: "Snapped, I Should Have Died, I Survived, Animal cops, Unsolved Mysteries, 48 Hours Hard Evidence, Primetime to Catch a Preditor," and of course nothing like the million Apocolyptic shows that the History Channel has to offer. This all leaves me thinking. No wonder we are all depressed, anxious and convinced that something bad is going to happen, thanks to daytime television telling us this nonstop. So my advice to you all is to NOT turn off the TV but do what Moms for generations have done...watch soap operas. Not only are they rediculous but perhaps they can help with that non-existent labido we all suffer from, because that's all they do...is do it...and die and come back to life.
Till next time, Jen.
PS as I write this Cormac has found some Monistat cream and trying to squirt it in his mouth. Hmm I wonder if its poisonous? Shit!

Really?

It's not that I don't like being a Mom! I love my kids! I think a lot of us Moms put high expectations on ourselves, and when we find that indeed we can't do it all, nor can we have it all; we are left feeling like "is this it?" We give up our careers, our sleep and let's face it our bodies. All in the name of Motherhood. At Target yesterday I saw this young Mom with Irish twins. The eldest smacking the new edition over the head with a half-eaten candy bar. Mom looked like she needed some coffee, then a nap, and then a double Martini...maybe two of those. I wanted to reachout and hug her and tell her that it was all going to be ok...and then slip her two of my Adavan. But I knew she could handle it all, because after all she is a Mom and that is what we do...we handle it.
Till the next adventure, or crisis... Jen