Wouldn't ya know that the moment I had given into the notion that we would have to wheel him into prom on a guerney, he decides to surprise me? It's unnatural for someone to be so proud of something so basic.
I need to get out more, ya'll.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Dear Blog: it's me, Margaret.
Dear Blog:
So sorry to have taken so long to get back to you. It's been over two months and I have totally and completely neglected you. I have left you hanging regarding what life is like with a three and four month old. I haven't posted any pithy musings about how GREAT the weather has been here lately (ha!) or what it was like when we traveled to the states for 5 weeks. We haven't bitched about sleepless nights or spit up or how utterly uninterested my child is in rolling over. No, I have been a bad girl. A very bad girl.
And I want you to know that I feel guilty about that. Really, I do. I've neglected you and my two loyal readers (hi mom and shea!). I've let you, myself, and the American people down. I should be ashamed of myself and I am.
You see, I'm not the usually type to start something and give up on it half way--well, that is to say I wasn't previous to October 12th at 7pm. Since then, I have half-way feberized my son (that is until I realized how close his nursery is to my neighbors living room). I have taught him how to spend just enough time on his tummy for a great picture and then collapse in weak frustration (see allusion to not rolling over above). I have introduced him to half of my friends here and then gave up when I realized that I was the only one who really cared (surprisingly, he is only my first child, not the world's). I have learned to sleep just enough to function in the morning but not soundly enoughly to miss every cough and sniffle he makes in the next room. And I have been reduced to using the news breaks tickers that scroll on the screen in between my soap opera as my prime source of world news updates. Basically, I have become that person I swore I wouldn't and find myself unmotivated to do anything well if it doesn't involve managing the monkey's life. Yes, it's pathetic but sadly true .
Just know that it's not you. It's me. I still think of you fondly and how well you have served as a cathartic outlet when we moved here. You have been constant and steadfast and I have been flakey and unfocused. The truth is that I am a bit overwhelmed by my responsibilities right now and can't give you the attention you deserve. Please be assured, though, that this, too, will pass and that before you know it I will typy-typerton reporting back to duty. Until then, hang tight and please accept the attached picture as my olive branch...a peace offering of sorts. In no time at all, you will be restored to your former--if rather lackluster--glory. I'm certain that by the time the Bear chooses a mate in, I don't know, 40 or 50 years, I'll have plenty of time to rekindle our fire. Who knows? I just might surprise you with how soon I might be up and running again. Weren't we taught that true love waits? Let's hope so.
With Warmest Personal Regards,
Me
So sorry to have taken so long to get back to you. It's been over two months and I have totally and completely neglected you. I have left you hanging regarding what life is like with a three and four month old. I haven't posted any pithy musings about how GREAT the weather has been here lately (ha!) or what it was like when we traveled to the states for 5 weeks. We haven't bitched about sleepless nights or spit up or how utterly uninterested my child is in rolling over. No, I have been a bad girl. A very bad girl.
And I want you to know that I feel guilty about that. Really, I do. I've neglected you and my two loyal readers (hi mom and shea!). I've let you, myself, and the American people down. I should be ashamed of myself and I am.
You see, I'm not the usually type to start something and give up on it half way--well, that is to say I wasn't previous to October 12th at 7pm. Since then, I have half-way feberized my son (that is until I realized how close his nursery is to my neighbors living room). I have taught him how to spend just enough time on his tummy for a great picture and then collapse in weak frustration (see allusion to not rolling over above). I have introduced him to half of my friends here and then gave up when I realized that I was the only one who really cared (surprisingly, he is only my first child, not the world's). I have learned to sleep just enough to function in the morning but not soundly enoughly to miss every cough and sniffle he makes in the next room. And I have been reduced to using the news breaks tickers that scroll on the screen in between my soap opera as my prime source of world news updates. Basically, I have become that person I swore I wouldn't and find myself unmotivated to do anything well if it doesn't involve managing the monkey's life. Yes, it's pathetic but sadly true .
Just know that it's not you. It's me. I still think of you fondly and how well you have served as a cathartic outlet when we moved here. You have been constant and steadfast and I have been flakey and unfocused. The truth is that I am a bit overwhelmed by my responsibilities right now and can't give you the attention you deserve. Please be assured, though, that this, too, will pass and that before you know it I will typy-typerton reporting back to duty. Until then, hang tight and please accept the attached picture as my olive branch...a peace offering of sorts. In no time at all, you will be restored to your former--if rather lackluster--glory. I'm certain that by the time the Bear chooses a mate in, I don't know, 40 or 50 years, I'll have plenty of time to rekindle our fire. Who knows? I just might surprise you with how soon I might be up and running again. Weren't we taught that true love waits? Let's hope so.
With Warmest Personal Regards,
Me
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