Dreamy dreams

Last night I had a dream that there was a movie out starring Sinead O'Connor as a lady who was turning into a robot because she was so negative. It had the Nick Lowe song, "What's so funny about peace, love and understanding" in it and that was the song that played on this movie's trailer. The movie poster looked something like the image I mocked up in about 10 minutes, above. I feel like this dream is a sign and a lesson. (Another good song to check related to this is "I do not want what I haven't got.")

Report card=FAIL

So, as a follow up to my last post back in August about focusing on professional issues and eschewing "mommy" issues...well, that didn't happen. I just didn't write about it here, but I became more embroiled than ever in various discussions and arguments online about parenting topics. Why? I think one reason is that reading short articles and comments and then commenting myself, from the gut, is a quick and easy way to fill time, and filling time is really all I have for it. It's not like I am going to set aside a half hour for website reading and commenting. It's little blips. Blips while I wait for an application to open for something I'm working on. Sidetrack blips when I have to look up something else for work and drift off just to check a little website here or there to see what the latest thing to outrage (haha) me will be. Blips between playing with my kid or getting her a snack or wiping her ass or cleaning something. My comments are usually well thought out, although they do capture my "gut" response, as I mentioned. I often express my opinion in angry or combative ways. I feel an underlying sense of anger and combativeness and I know it's a problem and I certainly don't want to foster that in myself. It is so contrary to everything I want to be.

But the snark just flows.

I am also a little lonely. I will admit, as much as I love my kid, she is still just a kid and a young one at that. Sometimes if I say "I love you" or ask her any kind of question, she'll say something like "I'll be baby jaguar and you be a red-eyed tree frog"...totally missing the point, right? Well, that's normal! She's three! But, sometimes I need more engagement throughout these long days. Throwing comments out there, I get engagement. It seems like throwing provocative comments gets me better engagement, too. Or at least, more. Pathetic, I know. The thing is, sort of, at more core, I do think the things I post are right and what I really think, but I would never force these ideas on people in the real world and I don't alienate actual friends and acquaintances in real life with my bullshit. Also, often the more I get to know people the more I feel like, meh, it's OK if someone works and puts their baby in daycare...I mean, so and so seems caring and nice enough, right? Or, so and so just has to do it because they need the money. Even when I disagree with people's choices, when I actually get to know them as individuals, the difference in our choices serves more as a point of interest, a curiosity, something to talk to my husband about or ponder, etc. But, when I am just dealing with words on a screen, it's like I'm not really dealing with an actual person. And, I think this goes the other way, too.

So, what to do? I have tried, although admittedly not very earnestly, to curb and cut off my reading of parenting sites and blogs. Should I just write about my reactions here, on this blog, instead of engaging in the barbs in the comments sections? Should I just try harder to swear it all off? I think in some ways it might be beneficial for me to explore my feelings and think more about why I behave the way I do online. I have actually had some revelations on this lately.

For example, I get mad and resentful at people that have lots of kids and lots can mean anything from two to five to more. I know two is not really lots, three is just barely lots, so I guess my anger is proportionate to the number of "extra" kids people have. On one hand, I often see and hear (online) kids being slightly neglected when there seems to be more than the parent(s) can really adequately handle. I see and hear about bad behavior in the kids, lack of parental control, financial stresses, moms needing medication, parents not being able to pay for college...and I think, why the hell do these people bring this on themselves and why do they expect anyone to help them out? Haven't they heard of birth control...blah blah blah. I also think of how crowded the world often seems. I think of our waning resources. It can get scary, the mental trajectory. But, then I heard a baby crying in the grocery store the other day (my child was in preschool) and I had to hold back my tears. When I got to the car, I broke down and I cried. I missed having a baby. I only have one child. Why? I could have another baby? Why do all these people get to have babies, babies, babies, and I don't? It hit me, part of my anger against these multi-child people was a little jealousy. Not all, but part.

What a horrible revelation about myself! What an asshole I am, right? So, I need to lay off that. Still, when I move past the cuddly babies and the primal, probably hormonal urges to procreate (even at my age?) I realize that it is really best for us to have just one.

Another thing that gets on my nerves is stuff online about how women have to work and how there should be government-subsidized childcare to help them do so. Mommy-war type arguments aside about whether little kids are best off with their own moms, I don't really like the idea of having the government take on yet more of people's private family issues. I know, I know, the government subsidizes corporations and wars, so why not families? Well, the government gives tax breaks to families already—for each kid, there's a deduction, right? And there's some kind of earned income credit or something for daycare, right? (I don't know the details, part-time preschool doesn't really qualify.) I just bristle at the notion that we should be taxed more so that someone can get their personal fulfillment from working since they can't manage to find it with their young kids, or, in hobbies or something. People seriously in need should get help, sure, but alot of these discussions deteriorate to women saying they just need to work for their sanity, or, to hedge their bets against their marriage failing and them being single moms. And to those points, I say, that is their problem and the whole country does not need to pay for it.

I guess I am angry because, yes, it is challenging at times to be home with a kid all day, or most of the time when they are not in preschool, in the case of this work-at-home mom. It's challenging, but its not without its rewards and value to my personal growth. And, I am doing it all on my own, I should say, we, as a family, are doing it all on our own. We don't have family in town to help. We live day in and day out, working, caring for our child. We make it happen. I know it would be harder with more kids, which is why we don't have more. So, when these people with lots of kids get online and go on about the help they need, I just think they need to take responsibility for and control of their own lives!

I know, of course, that these thoughts are not friendly or charitable. I really do want to be kind and I want to be compassionate, but at this point I think the best I can do for these types is to try to be indifferent and not get embroiled in debates in comments sections. I think I will just try to sort it out here in my own writing space...

A horrible mommy blog day!

This post is in honor of all the mommy blogs out there that post the most mundane, “what I did today” drivel that somehow entertains people. I am soooo mommy’d out and so tired of the upper-middle class political crap surrounding motherhood. My internal struggles in my brain get much uglier than any of that. Here is a made-for-primetime version of a bad day in my world.

The table-top fountain doesn’t work. I am devastated. I sob at the kitchen sink as I wash the few dishes leftover from our breadmaking this morning. We got the fountain at Walgreens today after “lunch” when I went in to see if they still sold ipecac syrup in drugstores. Apparently they don’t. At least I couldn’t find it and I was too afraid to ask. I asked where it was once as a teen and they gave me trouble. I figured the pharmacist would think I was some crazy eating disorder lady and I didn’t want to go down that road of proving I wasn’t. Yes, I wanted it to make myself throw up, but no I am not bulimic. I just had a regrettable lunch.

After a frustrating morning that started with a routine enough check of a client’s website, the matter snowballed into an hour with technical support. A bad way to start one’s day when one is having trouble being centered, balanced and focused in their days generally (lately). I’d been dealing with the technical issue on and off since last Thursday and I won’t go into the gory details, but emotionally, I felt like a beat up valise that had been to Bangalore, Phoenix and back (the various support specialists locations, no small coincidence). I take my work very seriously.

What makes it sadder is that today I planned on being a big “focus on my kid” day. We were going to draw alot. We used to draw all the time, but lately it’s been all play doh and blocks and draping scraps of cloth on plastic animals as “costumes”. But, she was doing some good drawing last night in the tub with her bathtub crayons and it made be think, yeah, we need to draw. We did manage to get a little drawing in, and, as previously mentioned, baked homemade bread. How’s that? Work on client website issue, draw with child, make homemade bread with child. Not a bad day, actually. But I feel broken in pieces, somehow.

I figured I’d treat us to lunch over at the Austin Grill. Kids eat free on Tuesdays. I vowed before I’d never eat there again after lame service and feeling gross from the food. But, this wouldn’t be the first vow I’d broken. So we went. Shrimp fajitas sounded good. A margarita…maybe. But, it was not good. My kid didn’t really eat much of hers. Mine tasted alright but not good enough to to make up for the guilt I felt for consuming probably 1000 calories for lunch. Guess I’ll skip dinner. The service was stupid and slow I had to ask for A, B and C twice. What they hell is wrong with people. We were like, one of two or three tables in the place. I used to waitress. I know when it’s hard. Anyway, I left feeling unsatisfied, dirty and gross and my hands smelled horrible from the drippy fajita juices.

“Let me just pop into Walgreens real quick,” I told my kid and we did. I trolled around the healthcare aisles but no ipecac readily available. Should I ask, should I not ask? No. Don’t ask. Then, on an endcap I saw these cheesy little fountains. The label said “Wow! Just $5″ I thought, aw, that’s a cute thing we can use with our animal and block set-ups. My kid would probably think the water running from the little spout into the cauldron and making the whirry flowing sound is really cool. “That looks…relaxing…” the teenage checkout guy said, like he knew it was a terrible, old-lady trinket, awful purchase. A plastic, made-in-China fountain. But it would delight my kid. I knew it would. “She’ll get a kick out of it,” I told him, motioning in my kid’s direction.

But now, I am back home with a bloated belly and a broken fountain (did it ever work?) but a beautiful kid, thank jah. After the bloat fades I am going to do some cardio to try to sweat out my frustration and start fresh tomorrow.