I don't mean to sound like a broken record here, but it still doesn't feel like The Best Time Of My Life. I have not yet reeled from the absolute miracle of it all.
A woman at work and I have been exchanging emails about the pregnancy. She's just gaga over the whole thing, demanding all kinds of details and just cooing over the whole idea of motherhood. Two things about this are strange to me: 1) She never expressed any interest in me before, and 2) Her darling nine-month old is in daycare because she works.
I understand that some mothers need to work, that there are emergency situations like the loss of a mate that would cause a woman to have to work to support her family. But the obesity epidemic in America cannot be explained wholly away with thyroid problems, and these excuses don't apply to most working mothers.
This woman also confided that the baby had brought her and her husband together, after a long separation, and they've never been happier. As glad as I am that this has worked out for her, I have to roll my eyes a little. I expect she was one of those girls who wanted her wedding day to be the Best Day Of Her Life, but gave no thought to marriage. And I expect she is a stupid, stupid bitch for having unprotected sex with a man who may or may not be around to father a child.
I may not have the mommy gene. I may not be all bubbly happy about the MIRACLE OF BIRTH and whatnot. But I plan on actually raising this kid. Someone has to work, but I hope to God my kid never has to step foot in a daycare center.
posted by Samus @ 5:53 PM
2 Comments:
Brendan and I shall look after Aran Jr. while you are at work. We'll teach him the facts of life, like how to make soap.
Strangely enough, I'd rather leave the fostering of my kid to Brendan Durden over there than with some stranger or grandparent.
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