Us
9.21.2009
9.17.2009
Mother's Day Out
I think that sounds like such a nice name for a day. To me it invokes visions of getting your nails done, or going to a day spa, or perhaps spending frivolously at stylish boutiques. And the day can be a restful and relaxing one, because you know your child is safe in the care of your local Baptist Church. Being nurtured by her teachers, and learning valuable social skills. Although, she will probably not take a very good nap, or eat very well, from missing you all day. Ah, the burden of motherhood, to have a child so dependent upon your every action.
Not. Because, first of all. Ella naps BETTER at Mother's Day Out. Yep. Better. Sleeping on the floor, with a bunch of other toddlers. And does she miss me? There is no evidence to support this theory. I spent the entire first day of Mother's Day Out thinking that I had better pick her up early, because she must be so anxious without me. Not so. She was happy to see me, though. Which was nice. And then, the next week, I agonized all morning before Mother's Day Out that she would have a minor breakdown when she realized she was at 'that place' again. "She won't want me to leave," I thought. Hmmm. Not a second look back. Maybe because their toys are cooler than ours.
I know I am supposed to be proud to have raised such an independent, well-adjusted child, who is confident that her mother will come and pick her up at the end of the day. But really, could she at least miss me as much as I miss her? The car seat looks so lonely back there when she's not in it. And where is that independence when I am cooking dinner? That's what I want to know.
And another thing. There are no spa days for me. I am grocery shopping today. (Which may seem a similar luxury without a toddler in tow. But still.)
Ah well, At least she is being nurtured by the Baptists. It's a pretty nice place. They even have an outdoor playground. And I have no worries that she will adjust well to going to nursery when she is finally old enough. And maybe she will see the other kids talking, and realize she can do that too. And, admittedly, I can't wait to go to the grocery store and not use one of those huge carts with a toy car on them, because those are harder to drive than they look. And there is always the hope that Paul will graduate, and we will be making so much money that I'll have a maid, and a regular appointment at the spa... scheduled of course, at the convenience of the Baptist Church.
Not. Because, first of all. Ella naps BETTER at Mother's Day Out. Yep. Better. Sleeping on the floor, with a bunch of other toddlers. And does she miss me? There is no evidence to support this theory. I spent the entire first day of Mother's Day Out thinking that I had better pick her up early, because she must be so anxious without me. Not so. She was happy to see me, though. Which was nice. And then, the next week, I agonized all morning before Mother's Day Out that she would have a minor breakdown when she realized she was at 'that place' again. "She won't want me to leave," I thought. Hmmm. Not a second look back. Maybe because their toys are cooler than ours.
I know I am supposed to be proud to have raised such an independent, well-adjusted child, who is confident that her mother will come and pick her up at the end of the day. But really, could she at least miss me as much as I miss her? The car seat looks so lonely back there when she's not in it. And where is that independence when I am cooking dinner? That's what I want to know.
And another thing. There are no spa days for me. I am grocery shopping today. (Which may seem a similar luxury without a toddler in tow. But still.)
Ah well, At least she is being nurtured by the Baptists. It's a pretty nice place. They even have an outdoor playground. And I have no worries that she will adjust well to going to nursery when she is finally old enough. And maybe she will see the other kids talking, and realize she can do that too. And, admittedly, I can't wait to go to the grocery store and not use one of those huge carts with a toy car on them, because those are harder to drive than they look. And there is always the hope that Paul will graduate, and we will be making so much money that I'll have a maid, and a regular appointment at the spa... scheduled of course, at the convenience of the Baptist Church.
9.11.2009
I caught a glimpse of myself tonight in a public restroom.
9.09.2009
6/6/06: In Remembrance
Well, I've got to say 9/9/09 was a day like any other for me. I had this hope that a day defined by such powerful digits would yield powerful results. Alas, it will go down in history as a day that I don't really recall.
6/6/06 on the other hand. That day will live in my memory forever. How vivid my memories are of that fateful day. It was my day off work. A weekday. A great day for errands. I awoke without a care in the world, until, as I was driving through Provo, a strange sight befell my eyes. Weirdos. All over the streets. Hmmm. Perhaps, I thought, I do not venture out enough on Tuesdays for me to be familiar with this picture. On to the Mall. Where I was shocked to find more! They were out in droves. Dressed in black. Heavy eye makeup. I was having flashbacks of Laurel's high school friends. (And Laurel for that matter.) Goths do not go to the Mall! What is going on here?! Every store I hit, every purchase I made was punctuated by the wanna-be walking-dead. Until I went to the bank. I needed to order checks for my new account. It was there that I asked the date. And like the sun rising on a dark world, my day began to make sense. Ah. It is the 6-6-6 groupies. They are gathering.
The bank let me choose the starting check number on my new order of checks. I decided upon 666. It's good to be a groupie.
6/6/06 on the other hand. That day will live in my memory forever. How vivid my memories are of that fateful day. It was my day off work. A weekday. A great day for errands. I awoke without a care in the world, until, as I was driving through Provo, a strange sight befell my eyes. Weirdos. All over the streets. Hmmm. Perhaps, I thought, I do not venture out enough on Tuesdays for me to be familiar with this picture. On to the Mall. Where I was shocked to find more! They were out in droves. Dressed in black. Heavy eye makeup. I was having flashbacks of Laurel's high school friends. (And Laurel for that matter.) Goths do not go to the Mall! What is going on here?! Every store I hit, every purchase I made was punctuated by the wanna-be walking-dead. Until I went to the bank. I needed to order checks for my new account. It was there that I asked the date. And like the sun rising on a dark world, my day began to make sense. Ah. It is the 6-6-6 groupies. They are gathering.
The bank let me choose the starting check number on my new order of checks. I decided upon 666. It's good to be a groupie.
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