Despite my best intentions, a couple of things prevented me from actually blogging. The first, of course, was the insane tiny creature, but even she finally went to sleep for the night, after adventures in snotty-nosed nursing. (Nothing de-sexualizes a breast like seeing a trail of baby snot attaching it to a sickish cranky baby's nose. Not that I care if the boobs aren't sexy. The libido's still elusive.)
The second was the arrival of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 2 on DVD. So after the munchkin conked out in her swing, I vegged out with some fun witty carnage.
This afternoon I logged onto Bloglines, and I saw Coffee Betsy has had some working mom angst courtesy of a judgemental, self-righteous bitch. (See, I can say that because I wasn't involved.) It came at an opportune time, as I'd just dried up my tear-sniffles after calling home to hear Shane sounding very impatient with Molly. I had a revisitation of my loathing of being a worker bee when I want to be a Properly Attached 'Round the Clock Baby on Hip Mother. I love the clinic, I love my coworkers, I love the kids we serve, but I wish I could love them a few times a week as a volunteer.
I also wish I could bottle my zen-mama-patience and leave some with Shane. (He also wishes I could lend him the boobies.) He's a very, very good Dad, but his patience is a more fragile thing than mine. I'd rather Molly not be around a cranky irritable parent, because it just adds to her crankiness I think...but it's wonderful she's with her Dad.
Some secret part of me is happy that I'm more patient with her because I feel like a superhero. It's egocentric and awful, as well as sexist, but I feel like her mama should be the most amazing person ever in her eyes, and Shane a very, very close second. It's terrible to admit that- how pathetic to crave being needed by them both so much. Maybe leftovers of jealousy from her Elektra phase. It seems to be over now, that. She loves us both again:)