I would post, but how many times can I say that this is hard? How many times can I detail the ways I’ve failed today, or the ways I’ve taken my frustration out on my family? How many times can you hear, again, that I have simply got too many small children…too many to take to the bathroom. To many to cut up fruit for, too many to mix chocolate milk for, too many to watch in the swimming pool, too many to pick up when they skin their knees.
I am sorry, you skin your knee four times in the same walk and i have stopped feeling sorry for you. And frankly, if somebody elseskinned their knee three times and you are the fourth? Well you are, my friend, SOL. Cause I am fresh out of loving kindness.
I have done a lot of unfun things. I have been, for example, an associate at one of the toughest, most grueling law firms in New York, known for its ability to bring young lawyers to tears. It did bring me to tears. Wouldn’t now. That’s a walk in the park by comparison.
And the thing is, when you do have a baby, you can complain, because everyone knows you wouldn’t really give the baby back, and very few people point out, or even think to themselves with a slight but recognizable smirk, that this is, after all, your own fault. Plus, you tend to have friends in the same boat, or at least recently out of the same boat. That isn’t true in this case, and it feels stifling. No one wants to hear any of this. I’m reduced, in general, to mere pleasantries. La la la, everything’s fine, why yes, it was quite an adventure!
Getting pretty repetitive around here, no?