I can be walking down a street and a one-year-old will zoom in on me, follow me with her eyes as we exchange giggling googly eyes. Then came the changes, the births, my health issues, and last week, the breakup.
It was like a cute boyfriend, leaving for the rich girl from the west side. We went so far as, when looking for our house, half-joking with our real estate agent that this room or that room would be good for the foster kids. I planned to boycott the new business but it was a tanning salon.
But some of the time, when I'm not juggling Everett's needs and work, I can be present, I can do it all.
When they sleep, I can relieve the guilt - but then my remorse takes over, and I'm not overwhelmingly efficient.
Starbucks will open with its ubiquitous green sign and its comfy chairs.
" And sometimes when I return from my third meeting in three nights, I sit and think to myself, how do I do it? But Everett said it best. The next month, they were open, serving Stumptown Coffee and fried egg sandwiches that left me salivating for days. I'm thoroughly delighted by the smiles and baby talk of the sturdier set.
I'm habitually late to everything, and I have at least a dozen projects I've started and not finished scattered around the house. I've never been so crushed over the fate of a building. Why must I always love, and lose? I save up my quarters to eat at these places, I take photos of my children there. It's the no-daily-shower thing. I'll be home by tomorrow, however, and will be showing off my new treasure 'round town in no time.
With Truman - most of our interactivity is spent breastfeeding and diaper-changing. I can't focus on one thing for more than a couple of hours.
So I had prepared, thought of which things were most important to remember. My missive that went something like, "hey, I need you guys, what's going on? I recently confessed to taking very few showers on Blogging Baby.