Red Pen Mama

You may have noted that my updates have been few and far between. I want so much to write here, but then I find myself facing 9 p.m. and either: a) a pile of laundry that needs to be folded or b) a book that I really would like to read. Sometimes the kitchen still needs to be cleaned up from dinner, too. And I try to go to bed at 10 p.m. because my days start at 5:30 a.m.

I am not complaining. My job is a very good job; some days are more interesting than others, but almost all of them are busy and pass quickly. The evenings are usually a mix of fun, frustration, chores, and play. Just like when I wasn’t working, actually – just compressed into a couple of hours daily, instead of the all-day, every-day work of being a SAHM. I now refer to myself as a “mom who works outside of the home, too”. I think that fits best. The acronym is goofy-looking, though: MWWOOTHT.

Anyway, N, I am writing this letter to you to kick off a month of posting. I don’t know if I can pull it off. But NaMoBloPo is proposing, in addition to November, that one tries to post for an entire month, randomly. They have proposed themes, and I think I can get behind a letter theme (letter-writing, pics of letters, however letters fit), as April is supposed to be. (What, no poetry? It is National Poetry Month, after all.) And I am writing this letter to you because a lot of the time I think of you when I want to post. You, N, are my target audience. Plus, this is our way of connecting, my way of telling you how I am. It’s easier for me than calling, and more compelling for you to read (I think) than email.

Okay, N, I should run off back to work now. I hope your birthday yesterday was happy, and you got my e-card and my phone message. I miss you a lot, and I hope that we can see each other soon. I am glad we are still friends, even when we don’t get to see each other for years.

I will leave you with this: The other day, we went to a restaurant for dinner. I was on my own with Bun and Monkey. When we didn’t get waited on after 10 minutes, I was ready to pack it in and head home. Monkey threw a fit when I told her we were leaving. She really likes to eat at restaurants. Fortunately, that had the desired affect of getting a server to the table, and I was able to order. When we left, I told Monkey she had been very good throughout dinner, “except for that little meltdown you had at the beginning.” Monkey replied, “Mommy, I don’t melt!”

Don’t you just love how literal children are? In spite of everything they put us through, usually at the end of the day, the memories of their antics bring a smile to our faces.

Love you, N. Kiss your two little buggers for me.

Oh, yeah, I’m expecting number 3 at the end of the year. (Well, technically No. 4.)

Love,
rpm

PS: April Fool’s (just that last part).