A comment from Tuesday's post: You really CAN'T afford to stay home, so stop acting like it. You're going to have to make huge sacrifices that will stress you out even MORE than when you were dropping your kid off at daycare. Tell the truth: you got fired and now you are pretending to freelance when all the while you're shitting yourself because you can't live off of one salary. Good luck. Ha! Quite a refreshing change from the good old days of Laura and her snippity preachiness about how I could TOTALLY afford to stay home if my husband and I stopped eating out so damn much, or you know, just stopped eating altogether. No! Now I am poor and a liar and EVEN WORSE, have developed some rather distressing problems with my bowels. (Helpful Hints for Trolls! Guess what! When you comment, I get your IP address, and then I can see allllll the other comments you've left from that IP address, especially the one where you used your real email address, asked me to visit your real blog and mentioned what real blogging friend of mine is a real friend of yours, and really, you gave me... Read more →

Okay, so I promise you this website is NOT becoming a glorified camera-phone-moblog thing, but... Jason was going through his photos last night and found this one: This is the very first time I held Noah. The very first time we actually looked at each other in the eyes and said, "Hello, strange, puffy person. You are stuck with me now, bwa ha ha." Okay, what I actually said was: "Oh my God. Hi. Oh my God. I'm your mom. Hi." And then I cried. And Noah just kind of squawked and looked vaguely alarmed. I was wrecked. Tired. Shellshocked. Terrified out of my flipping mind, and I don't think my hair and skin have ever looked worse. I hadn't seen Noah since the rushed and baffling first attempt at breastfeeding in the recovery room and had been sitting in my room by myself for an hour while Noah was bathed and checked over and for some reason I completely blamed our separation on the c-section and by the time Jason returned I'd worked myself into full-on hysterics because I hadn't bonded with my child yet and therefore I was totally doomed forever because the baby was NOT GOING TO... Read more →

I will miss my personalized office escape route. Fancy! Just like they got in them hotels! I have no idea why my company decided to post evacuation instructions in every office, kitchen, copy room and vaguely defined common area -- perhaps they were a little shaken by our brush with that cigarette-in-a-garbage-can fire, perhaps it's some kind of law these days, or perhaps they're simply trying to avoid a lawsuit when somebody gets hurt in a freak fax machine explosion because there was not a handy map of the office nearby and they forgot where the stairs are. I panicked! I had toner running down my face! And third-degree paper cuts! Everyone was screaming and I couldn't see the illuminated EXIT signs! But a map! I could have stopped to consult a map! OH WHEN WILL CORPORATE AMERICA EVER LEARN? I will especially miss the fact that I have OPTIONS for fleeing the building. See, the SOLID red line is my BEST option, while the DOTTED red line represents my FALLBACK route, to be used only if the zombies decide to start with the corner window offices, where all the extra-delicious executive brains sit. And because I am a child... Read more →

(In an attempt to chase the mommy war infighting out of my comments section with a big old broom, I will now bring you an ongoing series of things I will actually miss about coming to work.) (go on now, git! you no-good punk kids!) (waves broom menancingly) I will miss walking past this happy little fellow every morning. After an incident involving three fire trucks, two police cars, one ambulance, a garbage can and an improperly disposed-of cigarette, these futuristic sentry-like receptacles were placed by every entrance at my office. Quite frankly, I think they are ADORABLE, and I'm always ready for them to start blinking out morse code to me like that guy on Star Trek, only more cheerful-like and without the delta ray exposure. beeepHELL0! I aM pleasED to accept yOUr cigareTTe! BeepBEEP! You honor Me wiTh your stub! Live long and ProSper, my dear bLACK-lunged mastER! Beep! Or perhaps they are fooling me and are, in fact, part of a well-disguised vicious gang of keep-left signs. HaND over THe MaRlboroS, bitCH! BeeP! Read more →

This morning, I finally got up the nerve to tell Noah's daycare teachers that next Wednesday will be his last day. It was fun. FUN. Tomorrow, I think I'll just have someone lob bricks directly at my chest instead. They CRIED, people. IN FRONT OF ME. They handed me a camera so I could take their pictures with Noah. They asked if I would bring him back to visit. Then one of them had to leave the room. Then the other one told me how happy she was for me while her voice cracked and shook, and then she went off to sit in a rocking chair with Noah, holding him tightly to her chest while she tried to compose herself. As I silently restocked Noah's cubby, I heard her whisper, "I love you, I love you." And just like that very first dark day in December, I made it all the way back to my car before I started crying. Baby Photos: They're like real-life emoticons for your blog. I hated the rushing, the hassle, the colds, the room full of infants on amoxicillin and the endless forms for Pedialyte and diaper rash creams, but from the hours of... Read more →

Apologies for the lack of updates, but every time I see the whitey blankness of the New Post screen, I suddenly become completely entranced by those bright shiny oncoming headlights. Mama, please write something already. I want to go to college. How can I go to college if you don't write something already? No pressure though. I'm cool. Read more →

I've been unemployed once before. It was 2001 and I was working at a small software start-up in Virginia -- one of those tiny dot.com outfits that spent a lot of time and effort telling people that it wasn't a dot-com, it had a PRODUCT, and even though the PRODUCT would pretty much eat your computer alive from the inside out and no one had ever bought a single copy of the PRODUCT, we had loads of funding and free soda and snacks in the kitchen. We'd had layoffs once before, and I survived miraculously by virtue of having the smallest salary in the company. I got bounced around as a technical writer, marketing manager, events coordinator, office-supply-closet stocker and office-coffee-pot scrubber. I also paid the company's bills, but the checks always bounced and I got very good at blaming our bank and promising to "look into things," which meant testily emailing various VPs about the need to STOP SPENDING SO MUCH DAMN MONEY ALREADY. I stayed because I had no where else to go. One time I submitted a couple articles to magazines and got rejected and hid in the office bathroom to cry. After 9/11, there were more... Read more →

So in case anybody was wondering which diaper bag I ended up going with... I didn't buy one. I quit my job instead. I quit. My job. Just now. Somebody tell me how to stop shaking. And maybe get me a paper bag to breathe into or something. I would also accept ideas on how to get this damn Tom Petty song out of my head. And I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...freeeelancing. OH MY GOD. OH MY HOLY HOLY GOD. Read more →

I believe that if you are stuck at home with a sick baby for the third day in a row, are getting sick yourself, are spending most of your time cleaning either 1) snot of various colors and consistencies, 2) antibiotic-fueled diarrhea or 3) hacking-cough-fueled vomit, and then the rest of the time trying to entertain a furious child who! will! not! be! entertained! and your throat hurts and the baby threw a spoon at your head and there is poop on your jeans but you aren't even going to change them because WHAT IS THE POINT ANYMORE, I firmly believe it is perfectly acceptable to eat a chocolate Easter bunny for breakfast. In fact, I think it should be downright required. Read more →

Reason Why I Haven't Posted In Days: Baby's first ear infection. Awesome! Thank you so much, daycare. (I HATE YOU.) Along with the ear infection, we've also got more snot than should be allowed to come out of a single human head, even a 90th percentile head, and a internal-organ-rattling cough that means Milk In, Vomit Out, But Only If Mama Is Holding You, Preferably With Your Mouth Aimed Down Her Bra. Reason Why I Kind of Hate My Dog Right Now: Reason Why I Love You Guys: "I want you to thank all your readers for those lovely comments. I read one that wondered how I felt about 125 'Strangers' talking about me. It just plain amazes me is what it does. That people out there still take the time to care about a stranger! It is really heartwarming and does bolster my spirit." -an email from my mom, who is officially 100% cancer-free Reason Why I Love Spring: Read more →