I looked at the calendar this morning and thought, at least it's Friday. Before realizing that didn't mean a damned thing. I don't get weekends off. Weekends mean nothing special anymore.
I want to smoke, too. ALL. THE. TIME. I dream about smoking. However if I'm even near a cigarette I get repulsed. Even a clove. Even my brand of clove. But I *REALLY* want a smoke.
It's okay to want, I guess. Just not to indulge.
Mojo comes home on Sunday and will be all full of his adventures on the AIDS/Lifecycle and quite frankly I'm feeling like I don't really want to hear about it. I just want to hand him the baby, go to the bookstore and spend the rent money. When I come home, I'll expect the dishes and laundry done, a masseuse, a box of Godiva chocolates and a pitcher of fruity rum drinks.
I am a horrible person.
I'm really much nicer with sleep.
Time to go play with the baby now.
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Adventures of a Miscreant Mommy
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- Artemis Rich
- Runs with scissors. Swims with sharks. Plays with fire. And I'm raising the next generation. Any questions?
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2 comments:
I am so in awe of single parents. Whenever my husband has to be away for an extended period of time, his return automatically becomes PAYBACK TIME. Be sure you get yours.
I will try. Thanks for the support.
My mom raised me alone from the time I was about six, so I've never really had a role-model for being a SAHM. I've also worked since I was 15 and been amazingly self-sufficient, so the whole idea of being dependent on someone else, as well as new mom identity issues is a challange at best.
I'm still trying to figure out how this whole thing works!
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