Sunday, March 21, 2010

Mama Morphs

You may have noticed by now that I have a new subtitle on my header: "Books, Baby, and Batshit Crazy." It seems with an impending delivery just on the horizon (we'll see how close that horizon is tomorrow at the doc's office) I have....morphed? And I will continue to. I realize this.

I am still the happy ball of sunshine I always was, but to quote a friend of mine from Chuck's pool league, "You have an air of 'Fuck you, I'm pregnant' about you." He told me this as I was shoveling queso into my mouth and checking e-mail on my new iPod Touch paying little attention to anything else in the world.

My students have also taken to saying things like, "That's what I love about you Ms. M. You tell it like it is." They're usually laughing when they say it, in response to conversations like this one:

Star Student: Have you graded my final paper yet?

Me: Yep.

Star Student: Did I do OK?

Me: Yeah, I think you made an A, but I've graded like 80 of these things, so I can't promise that I remember at all.

In general, I think I have a new expectation of adults around me to act more like adults. I have no interest in taking care of everyone's crap around me. By nature, I tend to be a "director." I get up at ungodly hours, I go to work, I do my work, I go home. I chit-chat and laugh and smile and am generally outgoing, but I feel for the poor schmuck who screws around and doesn't get his/her stuff done. Another example:

Student: I'm not done with my final paper. I just need to finish typing it.

Me: It's due now.

Student: But I had other things to do.

Me: I have a family and three jobs and I was still here early today and ready to teach you. Now what's your excuse?

So, while I am technically not batshit crazy as my bloggy subtitle suggests, I am a little more focused on myself, nesting, making progress on things I need to get squared away, and generally raising a new baby who I hope will grow up and not be a douchebag. It's easy to get steamrolled by people and I think there comes a point when women have to say, "Enough of that. I'm taking care of my priorities now."

I was partially inspired to write this little diatribe by an article I read in the Dallas Observer today. It's called "Moms Gone Wired: One Woman's Journey Through the Mommy Blogosphere to Gain Parental Prowess and Free Stuff," by Alice Laussade. I am totally enamored of mom blogs lately, especially those that "tell it like it is." Certainly there will be a great many wonderful and sweet things about mommyhood, but there will also be days I refer to Greyson as a screaming turdball a la Heather Armstrong of

It's good to know that there are moms out there being honest and snarky about their motherhood experiences in all its highs and lows. You can expect my motherly rants and moments of motherly gratitude to take a place next to whatever I'm reading at the moment. What else is this forum for if not for sharing my life in all its facets? I've been doing it for years, so I doubt I'll stop now. When books take a backseat, baby will step forward, and I can't promise there won't be a hefty shovel of batshit crazy.

Coming soon: Pics of Greyson's "nursery."

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