None of your beeswax is over here!

Wanna hear me rant about something that really makes me mad?  Well, you’re in luck!
 
FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY, WHY are people who are not related to me or my baby (and by this I mean to include you and your baby, and anyone not reading this and THEIR babies) so concerned about our childcare arrangements!??!  This makes me mental to a degree that I am having a REALLY hard time restraining the F-bombs (it’s an official  word now, btw) and other profanities.  So, here is a proclamation:
 
When someone you work with, or live near, or are otherwise somewhat friendly with but not related to tells you they are expecting a child, among the first things you have to say about it should NOT be “Are you going to keep working full-time afterwards?”  Or, in the case of my male coworker, “Does your wife work full time?  Is she going to keep doing that?”  Because first off, it’s none of your fucking business.  And second of all, you don’t IN ANY WAY resemble someone who is just curious and making conversation!  You much more closely resemble what you are: a judgy busy-body who is overly self-righteous about the welfare of children that aren’t yours.  And when I say you shouldn’t say that within the first few hours, I am being very generous.  More likely, you shouldn’t bring it up at all.  NUNYA!
 
Furthermore, the next person who makes a VERY VERY POINTED show of asking me in an obnoxious manner, “so, who watches your kids while you’re at work?”  Or even better, “Do your babies go to DAYCARE?” said ALWAYS in church lady fashion, I am going to probably tell you to go to hell, and possibly kick you in the shins.  Or, if I’m feeling magnanimous, I might just give you one of my fave Scrubs quotes: “If you’re looking for your beeswax, none of that is over here!”
 
My childcare situation requires a long explanation, anyway, that, lets be honest, you’re not at all interested in.  I work full time.  So whatever answer I have for your question, you’re just waiting for it to start so you can shame me.  (For the record, I work 4 days, so Wednesdays I’m home, Fridays my mom watches them, and Mondays Tuesdays and Thursdays they go to daycare partial days depending on my husband’s school schedule.)  My favorite is the other day when someone at work pulled that, “So, who’s watching your kids right now?”  (Seriously, is there a way for that sentence to NOT sound obnoxious?) And I responded, “Their dad.” (I left off the “asshole” part that I wanted to add at the end.)  I SWEAR TO GOD, her face fell when she realized she couldn’t give me that judgy “your poor, unloved kids go to daycare because their parents don’t want to make time for them” face.  But without missing much of a beat, she then said “Oh, he’s unemployed?”  I am not lying, this conversation actually happened. At this point I should have just stuck out my tongue at her and walked away, but instead I said, “No, he works nights.”  You ASS!
 
Now, I don’t work full time by choice, believe me.  I would LOVE (literally, more than anything else I can think of) to be able to be home with my kids more.  But I also would love to be able to provide food and shelter and the occasional fun outing to my kids.  And if I stayed home, we would have to be on government assistance.  And boy would THAT be a fun time for those same judgy-pants who don’t want me working.
 
But even if I did WANT to work full time at a fulfilling career, or at a gas station for that matter, there would be many good reasons possible for this, and I would still be raising my own damn kids.  Some women actually enjoy having careers.  And it makes them happy, healthy mommies.  Which is of course good for their kids!  There are myriad good things about moms having careers.  I won’t extol them right here, because this post is getting out of control already.  But also, daycare isn’t the devil!  GASP!  Lola engages socially there; she learns things.  From her letters, to how to sit quietly for circle time, to what happens if you stick your finger in someone’s face when they don’t want it there (It gets bit.  Last week.)   Etcetera.  (Okay, in the future I will try to do a piece on Good Things About Working Moms and Why Daycare Can Be Great, because I don’t have much space left here after my hysterical ranting above.)
 
So to sum up: presumptuous jerks should stop inquiring judgementally into the childcare arrangements of parents whose lives are none of their business.  Not least because IT IS IRRITATING THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT OF ME!  Plus, you’re likely to fall off your stupid high horse by constantly trying to stick your nose into all the business down here among the rest of us.  And with all the parents staying home, good luck finding someone to bandage your stupid face!
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I Brought PJs to Work Today

I didn’t sleep much last night.  I know, SURPRISE! What the Hell else is new?  But last night was a particularly bad one.  In addition to the usual fussing, flailing, squirming, and grunting, we had a fair amount of full blown crying, from both Corbin and me.  While my husband irritatingly, peacefully enjoyed his Valium-induced coma not 12 inches away.  Meanwhile, I kept checking the time on my phone until I gave up in depression, realizing that even if Corbin DID fall asleep RIGHTNOW, my alarm was going to go off in 30 minutes.

Then I go to work to find a bunch of annoying stuff that didn’t get taken care of because I was off yesterday.

Then I went to pump.  Pumping is drudgery.  I LOVE nursing, but I HATE pumping.  The PITA that is pumping is actually the reason I ended up weaning Lola before I would have otherwise wanted to.  I just couldn’t take the pumping anymore.  I have to do it 3 times every work day, and that still doesn’t yield enough to fulfill what he consumes while I’m gone.  That is a source of endless frustration and devastating feelings of inadequacy.  Lola would shun her bottles and never needed much while I was away.  Corbin, not so much.  I find that irrationally insulting.

So today, I reached in my bag full of pump stuff that I have to haul around with me everywhere, and in the side pocket I saw some weird pink polka dot thing.  What the heck is that?  It was Lola’s baby doll’s pajamas.

She was being really cute with her baby doll yesterday; wearing her around in her tiny pouch sling, repeatedly burping her, etc.  Then she took off her doll’s little pink outfit.  “She’s too warm. She just wants to wear her t shirt.”  And apparently she stuck it in the diaper bag I use for my pump parts. 

It cheered me up so much.  I think about my kids all the time when I’m at work.  Especially after the second kid, I HATE having to work full time.  Hate it!  Usually I’m just thinking about them, and how precious they are.  In this case, I could actually SEE in my mind Lola rolling that little doll outfit up and sticking it in the diaper bag (just like she has repeatedly seen me do with Corbin’s clothes.)  It’s such a mundane instant in a whole day, but actually having my fingers find a tangible connection to my daughter while I’m stuck here away from her for 10.5 hours, it warmed my whiney heart.