Some things just can't be scripted

Had to share this with someone...

I recently finished a post on elephants for another blog to which I contribute. I saved the post, closed out, and went to open up the next story I need to edit for work. The first line of this next story?

How do you eat an elephant?

Eeewwww.

Speaking of which, who saw The Amazing Race on Tuesday night? Yuck! I hate when they do that to my favorite show. If I wanted to watch people make themselves ill eating gross stuff, I would watch Fear Factor or Survivor. Enough with the eating challenges!

Been there, done that

When DOM was a wee little tot, I spent 8 months doing middle-of-the-night visits to feed/soothe/entertain her. The one song that would always put her to sleep was the Brahms Lullaby. The only problem? I didn't actually know the lyrics. Now I know I wasn't the only person to make up my own...and I was decidedly less creative than others.

Sing me to sleep (Defective Yeti, via Daddy Types)

Benign neglect

Yeah. It has been a while. Work has been busy, Blogger has been having technical difficulties, and other volunteer commitments are all asking for their pound of flesh. In other words, just another month of being a mom.

I've been wondering about the different roles that mothers carve out for themselves. I think that I've had this monolithic image of what a "mom" is and I think that so much of what I've been doing over the past 2+ years has been rebelling against that very image. In much the same way that I have come to the realization that (*gasp*) my mother had a life before me and had a life outside of me, I also have realized that there are many different types of mothers and ways of mothering.

The trick is to do what makes me and DOM and Mr. MOM happy. The rest, be damned.