Another day in the trenches - The Sequel

The Sequel, by the way, is never ending.

The point of the last entry was to emphasize my need to work. I am an attorney. I have worked as an attorney. I have spent a lot of time in court, argued with judges, argued with clients, argued with everyone. Sometimes I even won.I have written legal articles. I think some people read them. Other people used to ask me legal questions, presumably because they thought I possessed knowledge they did not.

 But now, you see how my day goes. I rush to do ANYTHING that involves time to myself. There is no guarantee on any given day that said time will materialize in this particular space-time continuum.

No, let me rephrase. What I mean by "time to myself" is doing those things which make you feel like you contribute to society, not reading a good book or taking a bubble bath. Yeah, yeah, I know - raising a child is contributing to society. But it's really hard to see it that way when day after day I am in tornadic cycle of washing dishes, cleaning up, feeding, wrangling on another diaper and wondering if this trip to Walmart will be successful or if I'll have to cut and run halfway through due to Ancy Baby Syndrome.

These are my daily struggles now. Once more, my time up. Adio!

Another day in the trenches

I have to write quick. I don't know how long I have. Special Agent Baby is near me, on the other side of the bed, looking out the window. He is, in other words, distracted.

It has taken me a week to find time to return to this blog. I feel like a Bond Girl on a special mission anytime I try to do anything for myself. It requires cunning, craftiness and coordination. There are other times I feel less like a stay-at-home mom and more like a Bond Girl. For example, when I drive with my Isotoner gloves on in the 2-door Accord coupe, I feel like I am really driving a hip sportster down a sleek, curvy road in the Alps. (Driving with the gloves in the Chevy Lumina minivan doesn't have quite the same effect on me.)

Alas, I only drive with my Isotoners in the Accord so often. (You may have guessed that the Accord does not rank high as a family vehicle.) In the meantime, back at the farm, the ice storm we recently experienced has melted my enthusiam. I try to remain optimistic about job hunting in a bad economy with a degree that is useless, but, somehow, I am falling short today. I miss using my brain. I love my baby, but I miss creating complex neural pathways.

My time is up. Special Agent Baby is on to me.