Feb 28, 2010

Thanks for Googling "my secretary wanted to play with my balls" and finding my blog. I hope you found what you were looking for.
Let me just tell you something that you may not realize. Babies are real hard. They cry and can't talk and sometimes they smell inexplicably like breakfast tacos or cheese and you rub their heads and try to reason with them like a grown up about needing to use their indoor voice and all that happens is that their cradle cap dandruff sifts down onto your clothes and some more of their hair falls out and they rip a huge fart that somehow travels in an explosion of chunky mustard out their diaper and simultaneously onto their back and all over their penis. And you worry sometimes that they are not breathing when they're sleeping and maybe once or twice you are holding them with one hand so you can do something like answer a phone or eat your first bite of food for the day at 3pm and you nearly drop them because you forget they sometimes throw themselves backward in this Matrix-like move and you think they've snapped their back in half and you just want to wear a beer hat and relax and hope some therapist doesn't pull out repressed memories of all the little mistakes you're making.

Babies are real hard. But they're so amazing and precious too. They don't care that you keep only four songs on repeat in the house (La Roux's Bulletproof, Jay-Z's On to the Next One, Massive Attack's Teardrop and Charlie Palmieri's Spanish version of Uptight, in case you were wondering). They smile and talk to you when you're wiping chunky mustard off their penis and back and sometimes feet and you're singing to them an off-key version of Little River Band's Cool Change except you're replacing "cool" with "diaper". They make you not feel so bad about how angry you get when you are starving and just want some damn food already because you realize that's a normal human reaction, crying about food, and sometimes when you've cried because all you've wanted is a Wendy's #1 combo with cheese, no tomato and a Dr. Pepper you've felt bad in the past but now you just let it all out in the drive thru. They look like real cute anime characters when you get them wet because their eyes get real big and sometimes they look you straight in the eyes with their big old anime eyes while they are peeing straight up in the air into your hair while you're bathing them but you laugh because there's no other way to get away with peeing in someone else's hair unless you are looking that person straight in the eyes like you mean it.

I love being a mom. I have no idea what I am doing and my usually hyper self conscious self has really chilled the fuck out because I don't have time to think,and that's a nice gift, I think. I also have lost the ability to do basic math and speak competently in complete sentences, but that is neither here nor there. I wish I had time to write more, which I guess I would if I could pry myself off Facebook at 2, 3 or 4 in the morning or stop Googling characters from Wings like Steven Weber because I somehow think they are in cell phone commercials now and movies like Knocked Up and Dodgeball (which they are not, of course, because that actor's name is Alan Tudyk, but that is where my mind is these days).

Time to pump my boobs!