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Browsing Tag: full-time parenting

If I’m Being Honest

As I write this, Cian is in his crib, crying so hard it sounds like torture (for me). I already went in to comfort him once, and he’s trying to settle into his nap. His settling is loud. Quinn keeps popping out of her room, telling me she’s finished sleeping (she hasn’t started). Saoirse is in the playroom, playing with her cars, in a way that sounds like she’s actually exploding them more than racing them. David is pacing back and forth on the back deck in his flip-flops, his laptop in his hand, on a conference call. Through the closed doors, I can still hear the business-world catchphrases–“on board,” “launch date,”–bouncing off the walls. It’s 2:08 p.m. I’m ready to walk out the door. I won’t, don’t worry–as I said, D’s out there. I certainly can’t up and leave the family when he’s on a call. Duh. But I’m going stir-crazy. When Saoirse was a baby, and I was sitting…

Checking Myself

I love childhood. The watching of it, I mean. I know my last post was all sorts of grumpy and scattered (and apparently typo-filled, from what I just saw. For a former teacher and editor, I’m looking a little rusty), and I still haven’t wrangled this crazy mess (in my house, in my head, whichever) under control, but I really do love it. I was watching the girls today after lunch, before Quinn’s (attempt at a) nap. We’d just gotten home from a playdate with a bunch of my old from-the-beginning stay-at-home mom friends, and everybody was sort of relaxed and happy. The girls climbed up on the living room coffee table to sit, something they’re not exactly allowed to do, but immediately got absorbed in their playing, so I watched them for a moment instead of jumping to the usual reprimand. And I just wanted to swoop them into my arms and hug them forever, keep them this way as long as I can. Because it’s election day, and everyone I know, myself included, is up in arms about the outcome, and…

Dag, I Wrote One Anyway

When you go to to type your own blog’s website into your web browser because it’s Monday, and you usually post on Mondays, but you accidentally type in another, much more popular blog into your browser–and when it takes you a second to realize, as you’re reading this particularly entertaining, well-written blog, that (oh, yeah)–this isn’t your own blog and shouldn’t you be writing a new post, already?–it’s maybe a sign that you’re not really in the blog-writing mood and that maybe you should take today off, perhaps. So.  What you get today is a blog post about how I don’t feel like writing a blog post.  Feeling ironic yet? It’s turned from a radiantly sunny day to a sort of drab, almost-winter-y, overcast, barren-looking sort of day.  It’s the sort of day where my daughter asks, “Hey, Mom? Can we not go anywhere today? Can we watch a movie?” but you drag her and her sister on some errands anyway because a) you only have two…