May

21

9-5 and otherwise

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I am feeling pleasantly busy lately as opposed to chicken-with-head-cut-offedly busy, thanks in part to cutting back on a few blogging obligations (bloglibations?). It is far more doable to write for ParentDish twice a week rather than twice a day, for instance. Also, although it seems vaguely impossible that I even have time every week for my office job, going to Workplace seems to free up some space in my life in some way that’s hard to explain — I suppose getting out and having an entirely different set of responsibilities on a part-time basis helps reduce that feeling I am wussily susceptible to, of being completely over-fucking-WHELMED by parenthood.

It doesn’t hurt that Workplace isn’t exactly what you might call a taxing environment. Sure, it’s got its frustrations (although none of them are nearly frustrating to me now as they used to seem: when confronted with an annoying work situation I just compare it to the experience of cleaning up the third milk-barf of the day; or having two small children experiencing total screaming system meltdowns at the same time; or changing a particularly disgusting poopy diaper only to have to immediately change the other kid’s poopy diaper; or staring at the clock in disbelief because you’ve got to be shitting me, there’s no way it’s only 10 AM, I am never going to survive this day, etc — which is to say, that irritating coworker/managerial SNAFU/last-minute project from hell is practically a full-body hot-stone massage in comparison), but overall my office is far more focused on downtime than deadlines. That can soooort of sometimes be an annoyance in and of itself, actually, but really, I can think of worse things to deal with. Like the dotcom job I used to have where the company was owned by a terrifyingly dysfunctional pot-smoking husband and wife team and everyone had to walk around pretending that our software products actually existed, for instance.

My office job is sometimes enjoyable and sometimes lame, and I think I used to feel that I should be entitled to a job that is NEVER lame, but now that I am more seasoned and maybe also a little jaundiced and old enough to not only know what a silicone-based makeup primer is but also to greatly appreciate its effects, I am fairly certain such a job does not exist. I mean, I still believe in pursuing a fulfilling career and I have ideas and hopes for my future job opportunities, I guess I just feel more capable of appreciating what I’ve got now.

How about you? Are you in a good place, job-wise? Have you changed the way you think about working as you’ve gotten older? Those of you who are staying home with kids, do you plan to go back to work at some point, and if so, will you pick up where you left off — or do you have different interests now?

May

19

Parenthood lately, bullet-style

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• My kids are both good sleepers. I suppose I shouldn’t even say that in print or out loud or even think it without immediately pounding my fist bloody on the nearest block of wood, but there it is. Dylan goes down every night at 8 PM like clockwork now, and doesn’t even require the endless rocking/bassinet-jiggling/exhausted humming his brother did. Also, Riley — the world’s most stubborn, willful, obstinate toddler — seems to believe he’s not allowed out of his bed when we’re not in the room, and for some reason OBEYS this mysterious never-communicated (but much appreciated) edict, going so far as to wail piteously if he drops a toy onto the floor because AIIIEEEE, he cannot leave the confines of his mattress. Can I get a high five on that one? Even though we technically had nothing to do with this admirable behavior whatsoever? MAH DICK IS LONG.

• Vomited soy formula, while not exactly something I would dab on my wrists and behind my ears, smells about a thousand times less horrific than the milk variety. Still: baby puke, why is there so much of it again? He gags on his fingers, he randomly horfs for no particular reason, he spews in the dead of night. While all the while smiling, eating, cooing, and generally acting like it’s no big deal, but DUDE: BIG DEAL. Big, gross, disgusting DEAL. We’re off to the pediatrician today to see if there’s anything we can do, other than Scotchgard the entire house.

• I was playing with Riley in the backyard yesterday and I accidentally sent his ball flying over the fence and across the street. While Riley watched his ball sail out of sight, he turned to me and said — with perfect enunciation, mind you — “Oh, shit!”

Is it wrong that my first reaction was one of pride? Yes? Oh, well then I was totally upset. Downright scandalized.

• The weather was gorgeous this weekend, a perfect watermelon-slice of summer, and I’ve got the sunburn to prove it. We had a pretty good time hanging around in our yard with the kids, but I think both JB and I felt the crunch of parenting two small children. We couldn’t really just up and go for a long hike, or drive to the beach without a level of strategic planning not conducive to relaxing sunny afternoons, or even just sit in an Adirondack chair for more than five consecutive minutes without having to tend to someone’s cry-hole, or fetch more juice, or play the brain-numbing “FIND RIWWY” game (where Riley “hides” in plain view and you must act like a blind moron, peering around vaguely and wondering out loud where on earth Riley got off to).

I told JB that I think that the infant/toddler combo has to be one of the hardest stages of parenting we’ll go through, until of course they are both sneaking out at night and getting DWIs and ending up in juvie. I mean, I know we’ve got plenty of challenges ahead, but it seems to me that while Riley’s pain-in-the-butt factor has certainly skyrocketed in some ways, many things are so much easier now that he’s a pint-sized person and not a squirmy (adorable!) helpless grub.

Those of you with experience in such things, what say you? Baby/toddler siblings = harder than when they’re both older? Or, god help me, easier?

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