So I at least partly owe my current state of blog-obsession to this woman: http://www.othejoys.blogspot.com/
Shortly after I acquired my beloved macbook, and before I knew much about this whole "blog" thing, I was visiting M & S (and, um, their wireless network) and googled something (I don't remember what, but I'm sure it was completely unrelated) and one of the results must have intrigued me because I followed it to the House of Joy. I'm pretty sure that was the last time Sarah saw me for several hours. I think I read the entire archives without pausing to eat or sleep, carrying my laptop around the house when hunger forced me to migrate to the kitchen. It was probably annoying the way I kept laughing hysterically out loud, I'm sorry, Sarah, I couldn't help it.
In addition to being a very good writer (and this is not praise I bestow lightly) she's stinkin' hilarious. The only time she's not funny is when she's making you cry with a serious post. How a person manages to be this wittily coherent on a daily basis while dealing with two young toddlers -horizontal parenting notwithstanding- I do not understand, but I'm glad she does. I remember a time when I was caring for an infant and a three-year-old. My brain shut down completely, and I got to go home and sleep at night! And did I mention that the only reason I'm able to find time to write this blog at all is that I'm [blissfully] unemployed right now? And that single, childless and unemployed, my house is still usually messy?
In addition to hours of Joy (butt-biting Roosters! Gilligan and The Skipper!) I also found links to countless other wonderfully written blogs and found out that there's a whole world of moms who blog (many of them very eloquently) out there. I've also been getting into the craft & design blogs but I have to admit, I'm way more excited when I see a new post (I heart Google Reader a lot) by one of my favorite parenting blogs. Am I weird? I mean, yes, obviously, of course, the answer to that is undoubtedly yes. It's not normal to put a lampshade on your suitcase and post a picture of it on the internet. But am I weirder than I thought? As far as I can tell the entire mommy blog readership demographic is made up of a) people who have children, b) people who are trying desperately to have children, or c) their close friends and relatives. I do not fit into any of these categories.
I started my first nanny job at 21. I've always had this bizarre in-between existence between my single friends and the ones who were married and having children because I was single and carefree like the former, but I spent my days as mired in poo and barf and temper tantrums as the latter group. I warmed bottles and wiped noses and rocked babies and chauffeured teenagers, yet (most of the time, at least) I went home at night to blissful solitude and got undisturbed sleep and weekends off.
I have never worked in an office. I have never worn a suit or dressed up for work. The last time I had a job that involved colleagues was more than ten years ago. I have changed more diapers than probably most parents will. I have rushed a frightened 3-year old with a bead stuck up her nose to the pediatrician's office (did you know they have an actual nose scooping tool for this?) and kept a straight face when she handed me the aforementioned bead for safekeeping. I have sat in a chair for hours by the bed of a child who is afraid to be alone while falling asleep. I have made green-food-colored Mickey-mouse-shaped waffles in an attempt to get a child to eat something other than macaroni and cheese. I am an expert at arranging food into such fascinating shapes that even the pickiest child may be tempted to forget that he doesn't actually like food and eat it. I have made frantic searches for Vitally Important Stuffed Animals at bedtime. I have changed, bathed, comforted, and changed bedding for one vomiting child in the middle of the night, only to have another one start puking as soon as I got the first one back to bed. I have discovered that even being woken up to clean up vomit is not the worst thing in the world, the worst thing is seeing the tiny people you love more than anything in pain and not being able to do anything except change their sheets.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I am the oldest of 7 kids who were spaced roughly 3 years apart, so that there was always someone under the age of three in the house from the time I was three myself, until I left for college; but being around kids just seems like a natural state of being for me. Maybe now that I'm trying to leave the world of childcare and do something different I feel the need to be connected, somehow, to that world. I don't know. I do feel, however, like I have been let into the lives of some women I hope I can measure up to if I ever have children of my own. So thanks, Lady Joy and all you other moms who blog. Someday I hope I can be as cool as you. :)