That Wasn't Spiderman's Agenda

I haven’t written anything in weeks because I’m transitioning back to work and spending lots of time with all of my kids. Also, what could I possibly say about any of this dumpster fire that is the United States currently? I mean, really.

It is absolutely mad to see how this year has transformed. We are almost back to “reopening” the city. I think I’ve grown quite content with my lifestyle over the past two-plus months and wouldn’t really mind continuing on this way for a bit longer. And by “this way”, I mean not working but still collecting unemployment. The dream, if you will. I can say this because I have gotten a few days in with my kids in the past weeks and every part of me that missed them is long gone. 

Only some people will be able to relate to raising a baby from the time they are a nothing-- and rely on you to feed them, hold them, put them to sleep-- to the time they are old enough to tell you “no”. My “OG” baby if you will is now three years old, proficient in speaking ability, and very much so doesn’t do anything that he isn’t interested in doing. This includes using the toilet, going to timeout when necessary, and eating anything that even resembles a fruit or vegetable. Some of these things aren’t optional. Free will isn’t gained until you are much older than 3. There are adults who know better than to say no to me, but the fact that I taught this kid how to wave (and for a long time, the only fucking word he knew was “apple” and he really only said “app” which we thought was cute), means he might be the last person on earth who I will accept attitude from. I’m not the nice nanny who gives you candy and shit. You want to be a terror? There’s the corner. Have at it. Throwing a fit gets you precisely nothing from me. 

This is why I work primarily with infants. My sweet C is still working on “hi” and his wave. I’ll tell you right now, the day that one says no to me is the day I drive my car off a bridge. He is nothing short of perfection. The child means something to me because he wasn’t even alive when my life went up in flames. He was born over a month later, exactly a month after my birthday, and has been the light of this earth ever since. If you think I’m not about to give the boy everything money can buy for his first birthday this week, you’d be wrong. I have issues with spoiling children because I see what that turns them into, but this one could ask me to drown a bag of puppies and I’d gladly do it for him. 

I have managed to meet my lowest weight since high school and the highest weight of my whole life in the same year. Guess which one we’re at now. I’ve gone on and on about my summer body of 2019, due to trauma but still, a solid 10. Now that it’s June and hot and I need to fit into at least one pair of my shorts, I’m facing the reality that alcohol and Oreos are not the solutions. I got a bike for my birthday and ride her ALL the time, but have still managed to put on a few in the past two weeks that I’ve been home. I need AIR back. I need Soulcycle. I need someone to stop making carbs taste so good. And booze. Holy hell. I am far from having a problem but this has all really lead me to find my true love of drinking. I’ve started running a little and it’s defeating not being able to get a mile without practically collapsing when three months ago I could do anything for any period of time.

If you’ve been following along you’ve picked up on that “edge” that I always seem to have. Drinking takes that edge off. And you can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning. Everyone will face their own challenges of going back to the “real world” and mine will be that it isn’t appropriate to start my day with one or more alcoholic beverages. I’ve already gotten through some long days with my kids that pushed me to drink like a fish when I got home. Parents, I see you, and I feel for you. I wish to donate any proceeds from advertisers who want to sponsor this blog post to purchasing alcohol for people who have children. 

I’ve spent maybe more time than I should have recently trying to educate those around me about the unconsidered dangers of spiders. I think after what happened in Bolivia (google Bolivia Spider Bite) we should really be making sure that those nasty little assholes aren’t just passed off as harmless. When they are in my home, they are trespassing and I have the right to kill them even though I don’t live in Texas. Assuming you aren’t at risk is what is putting you at risk here people. I’m not saying those boys weren’t raised by someone who probably should’ve cleared up that whole fact or fiction side of Spiderman, but all spider encounters should be considered dangerous until proven dead or relocated outside.