Who Are You Calling Mommy, And Why Are You In My House?

Jesus-fucking-Christ!

I'm a mom!

This morning the 6-year-old wakes me up looking for breakfast...um, her hands weren't broken. Why did I have to wake from my beautiful Slash-filled dream to hear her whine about breakfast? Then the 11-year-old-- yes I know, I'm too young and beautiful to have an 11-year-old-- is giving me attitutude about washing the dishes. Excuse me? Did you not eat heartily off that very plate you are trying your hardest NOT to clean? Don't even.

And then yesterday, the nanny quit. I can't even tell you the number of sitters and nannies that have walked through my door in the past year. So today I'm interviewing some more people. This shit is the bane of my existence! How am I supposed to know who will not try to sell my babies' kidneys on the black market? Or who won't go through my drawers trying on my clothes and stealing my shoes (god help her if that bitch touches my shoes!)? How am I supposed to know? It kills me to have to even hire somebody to watch my kids. It's the constant push-n-pull with me: I need to work and play and be my own person, but the guilt, lord have mercy THE GUILT!

My mom never had it this hard- I don't even want to hear it from her. She had my stay-at-home grandmother to watch us and keep us until she came home. She didn't have to deal with background checks and no-shows and all that mess. And I was much better at taking care of myself than my 11-year-old is of taking care of herself...a by-product of not being raised in the city I'm sure. My grandmother (jeez I miss her so much!) watched us, fed us, bathed us, taught us how to cook and clean and keep house, and we never wanted for anything- not even our parents' affection- while she cared for us. I wonder if I'm hurting my kids by not being home? But how can I put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads if I don't work? Until my book is finished and Selma Hayek buys the movie rights, I can't be a stay-at-home-mom. See what I mean about GUILT?

So today I have to choose between a nanny from an agency that will guarantee peace of mind and coverage everyday I need it, or the woman with the 15-month-old son who's a former teacher, writing a novel and loves Buffy the Vampire Slayer as much as we do.

Jesus-Fucking-CHRIST!!! I'M A MOM!!!

*smooches*
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i'm no heroine
least not last time i checked
i'm too easy to roll over
i'm too easy to wreck
i just write about what i should have done
i sing what i wish i could say
and i hope somewhere some woman hears my music
and it helps her through her day