And why haven't I ....

I keep reading these awesome blogs from moms who come off as irreverent or whining. They really aren't irreverent or whiny; but to someone who isn't a mom, these moms would be getting the "Bad Mom of the Year Award" hands-down. To those who are seasoned (or freshly seasoned), these women are venting the safest way possible: online, in public view, and not in front of their children. Their children have no clue what's going on. Which is the magic of motherhood: NO ONE KNOWS YOUR HORROR ... I mean SORROW ... I mean JOYS of motherhood like other mothers.

I am currently embarking on CHILD #2. Yes, I'm insane. Two under 2. Technically, the Alice will be 22 months ... so it won't be that bad ... right? Who am I kidding! Even if this one is a perfect child, I'm still going to be going out of my mind crazy. I better talk to the doc ASAP about having those happy pills lined up after delivery because I sure as hell don't need to do it again without drugs. What was I thinking the first time?! "I can handle this. I'm fine. Yes, I'm exhausted, but this is my burden. It has to get better. It can only get better." And yes, it did get better ... but it could have been better, sooner with drugs! I'm so damn stubborn.

So we decided to get #2 cooking specifically because:

A. I don't want to dilly-dally around and wait forever ... I want the baby stage done. I'll probably regret saying that later in life. But for the time being I love everything from 10 months on ... they are WAY COOL as little people and crack me up.

B. Dave changed his major. That was the big thing. Since he won't be in clinicals next fall (which would have made me a single mother ... oh wait, aren't I already?) I said, "Get 'r done." Ok, we said, "Let's do it." Even though 2 weeks later he didn't remember our convo and gave me permission ... again ... which at that time, the blastocyst was already headed for the uterus so I let him know he was a little SOL on the whole "permission" thing. Hey, you agreed, I took the initiative and it was just the way he likes it: he didn't know a thing so he didn't feel any pressure.

C. I really would love to get back to the sleep-in part of my life at some point. Even if it takes until they are teenagers ... that's fine. But the sooner it gets here ... the better in my book. Plus, I'd like to get back to my life of debauchery. I miss it. It was so much fun. I want it to be fun again! This just blows. No time, no drive ... PLEASE GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK!