Thursday, August 11, 2011

When did I become this?

The other day at work, a friend told me I hadn't changed since having babies.  I assume he meant because I still cuss like a fucking sailor and I enjoy going to see a tit or two every once in a while (both girls went to their first strip clubs while in utero, hooray!).

But today, I was practically crapping myself with excitement ALL. DAY. over crescent rolls.  Did you know you can STUFF THEM?  With ANYTHING YOU WANT?  We had strawberries and cream cheese, peanut butter and chocolate, turkey and american cheese, and chicken POT PIE.  ARE THE CAPS FULLY EXPRESSING HOW BOGGLED MY MIND IS?  After dinner, I went outside to help Joe build the slide for Violet's swing set.  Then I came inside and used different color fingernail polish to paint the alphabet on rocks for Violet to sort.

I have become my biggest nightmare.

When I was a teenager and my sister started having babies and she cooked stir fry for our family once and my mom was so proud and then I started noticing other old people I knew knocking up their wives and talking about the injustices of children's soccer games and discussing the best crock pot chicken they've ever had, I decided I couldn't be that.  I wasn't completely opposed to kids someday in my 30s maybe, but I never wanted to become lame.  I wanted to be designing Frank Lloyd Wright-esque buildings and bringing home killer checks and shaving my head and tattoing on my hair and going on trips to Budapest and scoffing at the conformist music on the radio and heading seminars on kicking ass and taking names.

Bitch I KNOW you didn't just say the Zombie Apocalypse can't actually happen.

Instead I'm getting excited about pastries in a can and know the words to The Berenstain Bears Too Much TV by heart and I know and use the term "SAHM" on a regular basis and my days off involve wiping 4 different people's pee and pinning kid crafts (that I'll never actually do) all day.  I like to think I can still tell a decent joke... as long as we're joking about pregnancy pains or potty training woes.  Today I perfectly timed dinner to be ready the minute my husband walked in the door from work and I'm still gloating about it 6 hours later.  I HAVE BECOME MY BIGGEST NIGHTMARE.  If anyone was to call me out on it, I would deny it and declare myself "domesticated".  MAYBE there's a difference, because I'm still holding out hope that when the girls are in school and I no longer have to pay attention to constantly supervise and engage them, then maybe the rock star in me that shows glimpses of herself will re-emerge for good.  For now though, I'm going to own it.  I guess.

I'm lame.


  1. the rocks are a fun idea... i might have to put that in my mom bank.

  2. Lame? Dude, last night I was the lady who yelled out my window to some kids to keep down the racket. In the city. On Saturday night.


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