It was Either Blog or Find a Real Job

Well, if reminding myself was not sufficient then my email was going to start helping. I recently received mail berating me for paying for a service I was not actively using … Hello Blog! I’ve missed you, you quietly ass-pummeling emotionally-tolling-if-left-un-updated thing, you!

I don’t exactly know where writer-me went, but I’ll break it down for you – it is like when Jonah started crawling someone mixed his sweet personality with vile piss and vinegar, filled him to the brim with sugar laced with LSD, while giving me no new tools to tackle motherhood now that I was technically the mother of a toddler. Fuck me “Toddlers” do a lot more than toddle.

The last few months have not just “flown by” … they’ve screamed into the past so fast their journey has not only melted my face off but given me Tourette’s and made my precious boobs sag further than I would hope twenty-seven year old fun-bags would ever sag. I’m serious people, there is no bloody hyperbole here. Jonah’s development just caught on fire. So much to update on, so little time and energy to actually do so … I know, such an excuse – sure, I admit it! When I said it before it was exactly that. Now I am simply pleading with you to just see it my way. I swear it is the truth this time!

I am sacrificing sleep right now to write this blog, ok? I am sacrificing sex, and late-night snacking for Christ sake! This is an emergency!

But to hell with the perks of marriage! To the lighted keyboard I go!

Ah, Blogosphere. When you and I are apart who fills you with redundant nonsense, hmm? I supposed it has to be said that since my phone and email box remain empty of job offers – fruits of my labors in the job search – I am using you to make people think I am still contributing to society and not just hiding in my hobbit hole raising Frodo.

Our close to fifteen month old is a full time job … I don’t need to type that to make it true but as our government still refuses to help middle-income families live successfully with little ones at home on one income … the time draws nearer where I will be thrown back into the workforce. That is if anyone answers my countless calls, emails, gives me an interview or even offers me eye contact when I beg them face-to-face for employment.

At first the thought of going back to work sounded all right. You know, a little freedom, maybe some adult conversation, a little money in the pocket … yeah because two months ago when Jonah was adjusting to his new abilities it came with an ass ton of attitude. I found myself hitting my limit more often than was healthy, so hell yes, I’ll take a ticket out of the house by way of gainful employment! But then the changes and discoveries really did start to come hard and fast …  Jonah was walking, talking and starting to look like his Dad … I didn’t want to be away for any of it. Especially not for a job I hated and escaped from by using an unexpected pregnancy in the first place!

Then my son, said “Mommy” for the first time. The real “Mommy”. When he looks at you and you see the connection in his eyes and you know, finally, that he knows you as the definition of Mommy: defender of the weak, pancake-maker extraordinaire, and the endless tickle machine, best tucker-in-er and boo-boo fixer. This stupid motherhood thing just keeps getting better and better and that’s no fault of mine! Who am I to give it up? I’m selfish. I’m greedy. I made him. I get to be the only one to raise him. Please just send me a small paycheque in the mail, Mr. Harper. I’m living the dream here, you conservative bastard! Hey Christy Clark, any monetary love for the stay-at-home-mom?

Well, my cries and manic wailing won’t do any good when the bills start piling more than they already tend to pile. This is my new reality. It is just going to be a whole other way of life when I’m no longer at home all day everyday. And yes, I know it’s natural and yes I know it is the way most of the world does it … and yes, mother. I hear you: Get off your ass, Missy. I’m going to all right?

But hey Monkey, my full-time position as your mama is still my number one, and kid, I’ll be thinking of you every minute. I’ll be telling people about you all damn day because you are the best damn money-pit I could have asked for. I can’t wait to screw up taking my pills again, get fat with baby goodness once more because Jo, there is nothing better than the financial strain that comes with such a beautiful spirit.

You’re really small yet, all things considered but you have to know by now that you’ve got two parents that can weather any storm. Grandparents that write cheques first and worry about where the money will come from later, and two pets that can easily be dinner if things get really tough.

We love you, dollar-succubus.