Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The Surreal Life

I suddenly realized I work in the mecca for bloggers, not just bloggers but mommy bloggers (a term I loathe) and remembered that I had a blog. Well mine's only been "mommy" for two years now and as you can see, that "mommy" part means I have no time to post. And so I wonder... How are those OTHER women finding time to post? And make sense? And not just sense, but money? (WHA?) Instead I feed the beast that is my carefully balanced working life. Out at 9, in by 7 every day, and the hours before, after, and on weekends are all about kidcare. But when you've got the world's most charming children, there's hardly much to complain about. The work part, another story.

Since this last post a zillion years ago we've done all kinds of superfun things like swimming lessons and beach cafes and birthday parties and the county fair, and even a week in Seattle to visit the grandparents. So much fun - they loved it - and from Burbank, the trip was actually easy. Both babies are getting expert at dancing, tooth-brushing on the stepstool, kissing and more kissing, identifying letters, singing songs, watching YouTube on i-devices, picking out clothes, drinking from a cup, and resisting diapering and bedtime, but not cuddles.

The biggest change, perhaps is that we made a decision this month to put Liv and Wy in daycare. So, on Monday, off they go. I knew I'd be sad in acknowledging that the time is right - they're not babies anymore. What no one tells you to prepare for, though, is that day when you need to fire your nanny. What a stressful, stressful time. I had to go over it in my head many times before I got the gumption. And I did it. And she got teary. And asked if it was because she's doing a bad job. All that. Three more days of awkwardness...

Meanwhile my real worry is whether the kids will like it better - because I want what's best for them, sure, but what I really want is for them to be joyously happy as they are now, every night, when we get home from work. No more ecstatic little faces in the lit window as we drive in. I'll miss that. Instead, it'll be just us 3, every morning, off in the car on a new daily adventure. (I'll have drop-off duty). I wish the so-called terrible twos would last forever.

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