(no subject)
I walk by this place every day, and I am just dying for it to open. I require Belgian fries!! With sauces!
Speaking of food, the Salem Farmer's Market starts up tomorrow, and this year they've expanded quite a bit, there will be meats and eggs and, best of all, When Pigs Fly bread.
So soccer is totally a sport I could get into, were I to get into a sport. It has a time limit! The clock keeps running when the ball goes out of the lines! Plus, it just seems harder than dudes hitting a ball with a stick or tackling each other every 5 feet.
And finally, a blog post that really resonates with me.
I have a lot of complicated feelings about daycare and going back to work after the baby. Which, seriously, if you had told me a year ago that these thoughts would ever cross my mind I would have cursed you back to the alternative universe from whence you came, because I never thought I'd have any conflicts at all about it, that I'd be all sunshine and roses about dumping the kid off to do all of my very important work. Now, well, I can really understand why some people choose to stay home. Just having that choice seems like such a luxury, though, and it's a luxury I don't have. I don't make much money, but I do make more every month than the cost of daycare, so the math is a no-brainer. And being out of the work force for a couple of years would kill my career. I do feel like a failure preemptively for letting strangers raise our kid.
My parents were both in education, so while I was sent to daycare from the get-go, all the vacation time they got and the summers off are really different from my three weeks of vacation time for a year. I don't really remember a whole lot from daycare as a kid, but I know I liked it just fine and it apparently didn't mess me up or anything.
Bah. I guess this is what it feels like to be responsible for another person.
31 weeks. I confess that my initial major terror of pooping in front of strangers is already starting to take a back seat to "let's get this baby out of here." I seriously can't remember the last time I slept through the night- I realize this is going to get worse, not better, but damnit at least I'll be able to get comfortable when I'm no longer shifting my bulk around from one side to another like a beached whale.
Speaking of food, the Salem Farmer's Market starts up tomorrow, and this year they've expanded quite a bit, there will be meats and eggs and, best of all, When Pigs Fly bread.
So soccer is totally a sport I could get into, were I to get into a sport. It has a time limit! The clock keeps running when the ball goes out of the lines! Plus, it just seems harder than dudes hitting a ball with a stick or tackling each other every 5 feet.
And finally, a blog post that really resonates with me.
I have a lot of complicated feelings about daycare and going back to work after the baby. Which, seriously, if you had told me a year ago that these thoughts would ever cross my mind I would have cursed you back to the alternative universe from whence you came, because I never thought I'd have any conflicts at all about it, that I'd be all sunshine and roses about dumping the kid off to do all of my very important work. Now, well, I can really understand why some people choose to stay home. Just having that choice seems like such a luxury, though, and it's a luxury I don't have. I don't make much money, but I do make more every month than the cost of daycare, so the math is a no-brainer. And being out of the work force for a couple of years would kill my career. I do feel like a failure preemptively for letting strangers raise our kid.
My parents were both in education, so while I was sent to daycare from the get-go, all the vacation time they got and the summers off are really different from my three weeks of vacation time for a year. I don't really remember a whole lot from daycare as a kid, but I know I liked it just fine and it apparently didn't mess me up or anything.
Bah. I guess this is what it feels like to be responsible for another person.
31 weeks. I confess that my initial major terror of pooping in front of strangers is already starting to take a back seat to "let's get this baby out of here." I seriously can't remember the last time I slept through the night- I realize this is going to get worse, not better, but damnit at least I'll be able to get comfortable when I'm no longer shifting my bulk around from one side to another like a beached whale.