Hi! It’s me. A few updates:
1 – My son and I kicked ass at traveling all over the place by plane. My kid is the best kid ever and I am so appreciative of his grace and patience. Yes, my one-year old exhibits grace and patience while flying; I try to live up to that example. (Note: he’s still a kid so he loses his shit and gets annoyed and wants OUT NOW, but he did a great job of sucking it up and dealing, bless him.)
2 – I am now on a solo business trip and can say this: solitude sucks. I miss my family.
3 – I am going to return to blogging with a more limited focus (and probably readership, which is fine). I can’t write the things I really want to talk about (politics*, work**, corporate motherhood**) while this blog is public, so I’ll be making many posts available to members only. I’m still working through the details, but if you’re willing to deal with some administrivia with me, I promise interesting discussions will await you. Well, *I* think they’ll be interesting and I hope you will as well.
This also marks my admitting that this blog will never make me gads of moolah because of click-throughs, nor will my readership spike to bazillions because of some super interesting post I wrote. Thank gawd, I say. I’d much rather have a few readers I feel I can know than the whole wide world. So, here we go.
I will not lock down posts with fun topics like this:
Please, for the love of gawd, pack spare clothes for yourself when you travel with a child. Aside from the usual smudges of banana and boogers, he might projectile vomit a whole cup (or more) of strawberries all over you just as the plane is about to take off, leaving you to mop up the gross with a spare baby blanket and depart the plane wearing only your bra and the jacket you thankfully did not send with your checked luggage. The smell? Couldn’t be helped. Bright side: Javi was perfectly happy once he hurled. I’ll take a bit of puke and a happy kiddo over a crying baby any day, thankyouverymuch, even though my favorite tank top may never be the same. Ever. Ew.
4 – I’m in a corporate condo at a week long training class and totally disconcerted that every word everywhere is in the corporate font. Yes, we have a special font. Yes, the non-smoking signs are in that font. creeeeepppy
*Not “I think this guy is awesome and that guy sucks” kind of politics, but political things with (hopefully) a lack of all of that. Let’s talk about healthcare and immigration and family values (the real ones like childcare options and maternity leave and how to choose a church or religion for your kid).
**My team is getting bigger and thus, my concerns get bigger in that what I do affects more people. I want to talk it out but I can’t let the big corporate mothership find me. I also want to bitch about things but can’t until I can be assured nobody I work with can stumble upon it (dooce, cough, dooce).
**I’m going to call my version of working-at-a-profession-while-being-a-mom “Corporate Motherhood” to avoid the whole “it’s working if you’re at home raising your kids” argument. Yes, yes it is, I swear I know this, but all I want is a simple way of saying that I get a regular paycheck from The Man (who is not my husband) and I have a set of things to deal with because of that. Fair?