Ha! Not even close. I am a neglectful blogger, but I was inspired this morning, at about 7AM, by an ad in the monthly coupon packet for custom closets. There is a woman who from her dress and bearing is about forty (who can tell by things like skin or teeth anymore) throwing her head back in relief before her $20,000 closet, and then the tag line in my title. What does she do with her relaxation time? What is the indulgence she finally allows herself after what must be two decades of cleaning, straightening and fretting about the cluttered state of her home? A FUCKING CUP OF COFFEE!
Excuse my "fuck" but this was just too much for me this morning, when I was choosing whether to drink my coffee with milk or take it black and assemble the recycling. I am not going to be so vapid as to say 'this is everything that's wrong with the world,' because it's not. I have always found the media's demands on a woman's time conspicuous, yet I feel the same force compelling me to take care of my home before myself--or, at least I could not sit and enjoy a cup of coffee in the midst of last night's dinner and dirty wine glasses. I am also guilty of the following: No, Husband, I can't have sex until the sheets are straightened....I will only shower when I finish this article--and maybe a few more emails.....I will just stay in my pajamas this morning while I do the week's food shopping.
Yes. I miraculously avoided the similar evil, whispering monster who tells me to dye my roots, shave my bikini line--slather my tired skin in creamy foundation. Why, then, do feel the need to keep house as though it were so...biological? (Don't flame me; I know it's not). Could I relax any better if my house really were perfectly clean and straight all the time? (Well, no. I still have an infant to take care of--but you get the point). These things I do not know.
At any rate, I think I am beginning to find a balance between work/Baby Apollo. It's kind of a 15/85% ratio. I am looking forward to the days when it will be more like 35/65. One of my more difficult bosses has praised my dedication--apparently everyone really DID expect me to drop off the face of the earth when Apollo was born.
But no matter what I do, there is always something lacking. When I went to pick him up to put him in bed last night, Apollo's head was bleeding! because he gashed himself with overlong nails. Crib training....I haven't even started it. Am I too attached to cosleeping? He is cuddly. Will I eventually find his cuddliness more alluring than Husband's?
Anyway, I guess I have a lot of questions about myself today. A good thing.
Stay curious,
Asteria
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I think it's primal. I betcha back in the day there were plenty-o hairy, ape-women sweeping up the cave because it was more appealing than the alternative, disastrous state.
ReplyDeleteAs for the fingernails, Kev's gotten a few well documented gashes. I'm sure you can see them in a few pictures.
And finally, the snuggling. Do it. Nuff said.
Lol. Thanks Alana. Nothing can keep me from the snugglez.
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