Now almost 2.5 years into motherhood, I’m ready to start paying more attention to my weight, hair, and skin.
I’ve let myself go, y’all.
I’m tired. I’m not financially solvent enough to afford a housekeeper or babysitter to give me at least an hour worth of free-time to myself. blah blah blah…
But at the same time, I’m kind of freaking out inside over my LO’s upcoming start at day care. I won’t know what to do with myself, and I’ll want to be there with him… I’m already a ball of nerves.
Speaking of nerves: When I reached our car, upon getting pediatrician signatures on “daycare papers,” I had trouble getting LO into his car seat.
His seat was on the street-side, and I got yelled at by rush-hour-anxious drivers. A garbage blared his horn at me, followed by other driver beep-beeps.
LO is squirming, not understanding the fact that car seats are meant for his safety, and that we have to go home. Seems like he’d rather run in the street, not holding hands, embracing some kind of abstract liberty. All I’m doing is holding him back.
“Shut your car door!” some woman yelled at me.
A doorman saw everything.
“Just remember,” he says to me. “You can’t fix stupid.”
I laughed, thanked him, and drove off, forgetting to lock us into the car. As I turn up Union St, I hear a whoosh-sound. I look towards the back of car to see that my LO opened the door. Car behind me beeps, as I pull over to signal a random bike rider with locks to come shut door for me. LO puts hands to his ear “uh-oh” style as the biker shuts door and I lock it.
I drive home, wondering if the doorman was actually talking about me all along.
Anyway, here’s a boring video about Tinder, with people droning on and on about being free, and dating.