Rant, rant, rant
I seem to cry at the drop of a hat these days....t.v commercials, newspaper articles, personal worries and concerns all seem to reduce me to quiet tears. I'm not sure why - although I have some ideas.Still, tonight what I feel most of all is frustration and anger. Who actually knows, maybe H1N1 will turn out to be, please, please, please, much ado about nothing - except for those poor, grieving families who have lost love ones to date because of this flu strain. I do know that the first chance I had, my boys were vaccinated - and Winston will go back next week for his second shot as he is under three and Canada has to date decided that all children under
Bad Mother
There is no way around it but to simply admit that I fall short on many fronts. Take Hallowe'en for example. No home-made costumes for my kids. Nope. I consider it victory that a) I remembered in time to find and purchase a dinosaur costume for Topher, and b) that I could actually put my hands on a hand-me-down costume of Topher's for Winston. Ah yes, and that 48 hours before the actual event I remembered to pick up the necessary Hallowe'en candy for the neighborhood children (who will no doubt be appropriately costumed in home-made creations that would boggle the mind) along with the much-needed milk, oranges and tylenol.Or dinner tonig
I hate it when "they" are right.
I have often been "advised" to take some time to myself, aka take better care of myself and to better attend to my own needs. I have bristled and objected to these suggestions - who has time to be selfish with two small boys, a marriage, a household to manage and a career?However, I am back home after 3 days away on a leadership retreat....3 days without diapers, tantrums, dinners to plan and prepare, work to attend to....no real, personal and pressing demands on my time, my moods, my emotions, my being. I had only to shower and dress myself each morning, had only myself to feed - at the hotel breakfast buffet - had only my thoughts crowding into my head and was
Single moms...
...have my undying admiration. I am often a temporary single parent as my spouse travels frequently. This latest jaunt is for over one week. Faced with the reality of the unquenchable needs of two small boys, the demands of a career and the minutia of making a household run even relatively smoothly, I am exhausted, depleated and undone.My list of academy award nominees for the mother of a lifetime award include ( in no particular order):- single parent women who manage breakfast, school-time, lunches, naps, dinner preparation, dinner, bath, bedtime, stories, endless re-bedding of youngsters as well as weekly groceries, meal planning, lau
And so it goes....
So, it has finally happened and I am bereft at some points and yet oddly vacant at others. Yes, the first of many fissures in the mother-child bond has occured...Winston is in his own room, in his own bed. No longer is my baby boy sleeping next to me. In fact, for the first time in over two years he is neither inside me nor beside me all night long. No longer can I either feel or hear his rustling sleepy movements. No longer can I listen to his breathing when sleep eludes me. No longer can I merely run my hands over my belly or glance over to the crib right next to my side of the bed to see, to know, that he is well, happy, secure and so