I'm snowed in today. No, not really: the snow was pretty enough, and it's cold enough never to want to step outside (with pardons to people who, after spending enough time in negative digits may think that 20 degrees Fahrenheit is sweater weather, naturally).
But you know, it's cozy in here. And I finally wanted to sit down and commit some thoughts to my little space. And it's a cramped space around here: I guess I never thought– or rather, never gave a thought– to the fact that motherhood of two is an entirely different game from motherhood of one.
Don't get me wrong: being mother to two is not exactly a burden, though there are burdensome moments. And it's not an ongoing flood of things to do, although when the little one is screaming and the big one decides it's the best thing in the world to go ahead and copy him and they both start banging their fists against whatever and then the cat decides to join them because, 'Hey! It's getting close to dinnertime' and so on, well… you start to get the picture.
Motherhood is already burden enough, even with all the loveliness it brings. It's a constant job in which the odds of needing something dry-cleaned at the end of the day are pretty damn good.
I can't seem to get the hang of juggling it all. I don't know how you working mothers and single mothers and stay-at-home mothers do it without sometimes wanting to lock yourself in the closet and screaming loudly or biting into whatever you can sink your teeth into first– preferably not a body part, because it's very weird to have to explain teeth marks to people.
The laundry is half-made and the room looks like a tornado hit it. The floor looks like a Hansel-and-Gretel crisscross of unnamed food objects. The living room is a dangerous minefield of popular children's tunes.
And I guess that's all okay, because this is what I signed up for when I thought it would be a good idea to let my DNA live on.
Anyway, here is a note from deep in the parenthood trenches. Does this make me a mommyblogger now?