Tuesday, February 23, 2010


I was shocked to learn that some seriously ridiculous percentage of moms are bloggers. I can't find the time to brush my hair or change my socks most days, and a bazillion moms have time to parent AND blog? For real?

But then it occurred to me that, actually, we all come from very different definitions of "parenting." I was afraid to park my kid in daycare of any sort, for fear they'd derail my efforts in the black art known as elimination communication. When kid one was several months old, we would spend hours - literally HOURS - in the bathroom, her on the potty seat and me reading book after book. She will be three next month and she can read like a champ. And she's still not potty trained, but that's a different rant. The point is, I should at least be able to win a gold medal for parenting. I am present, and the TV is not a babysitter in this house. Even when it's horribly inconvenient, which is always, I put my kids first. I want them to be the most fantastic human beings ever.

I'm here because I'm tired of thinking about creating and then giving up, instead doing nothing. I expect no followers and no comments. If you're here, you must be lost. This is my diary, a place where I can bitch about my kids and my husband and my life and I will protect it and hide it so that I might have an outlet that's safe. Because... well, because.

"Feed the" refers to a few different things. Anthony Bourdain writes about a chef he worked with who called from vacation to ask whoever was available to "feed the bitch." The bitch in question was a yeast starter for breads. You have to keep feeding the yeast to keep it alive even when you're not using it for bread that week because you're far away on vacation. Anyway, I think of this line often and for many different reasons. Separately, there is the topic of "which dog do you want to feed?" as outlined in a particularly insightful sermon I once heard. The dual meaning of bitch in this instance is entirely accidental. I AM the bitch, and that is just fine with me. Again, I'm here for my own personal therapy.

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