I feel deflated.
I feel betrayed.
And, if we're going to be honest here, I'm feeling just a wee bit jealous.
What could possibly shatter my delicate hold on reality, you wonder?
One word.
Nanny.
Oh, people. People, people, peeeeeeople....
(You can hear the whining already, can't you? It just OOZES out of your computer screen.)
As most of you know, I've been around the Blogiverse for quite a while. But in the last couple of years, I've had a lack of consistency with my ramblings, er, postings. There are loads of reasons for this, and since it's not the point of this post, I'm not going to delve into that muck right now (plus, The Hubster is on a run and is expecting the Little Woman to have started dinner when he gets back - somebody better message the Little Woman). What's important is that I want to write. I need to write. And I have a renewed commitment to writing!
Now somebody notify my kids.
So there's this Hot New Blogger that's been at it for over a year now, with this great following, and everybody loves her. Or, at least, the people who comment love her, and that's close enough to "everybody," right?
She's got two kids.
I'VE got two kids!
She stays home with 'em.
I stay home with 'em TOO!
And she posts just about every day.
Which is where our similarities part ways.
I do not regularly read her blog, just a post here or there. So, truthfully, I did not know that much about her beyond what I just mentioned above. But I held her up on a pedestal!
She PARENTS! She BLOGS! How does she DO it all????
Are you ready to go on a Tangent? OK, hold onto your bootstraps, cause here....we....gooooo!!!!
Hubster took me skiing with his parents when we were oh so young and happy and childless and carefree! I had only been skiing twice before that - in IOWA, mind you - back in high school. "I know what I'm doing!" I promised. "Don't worry about me!"
The second I pushed off the top of Big Bear Mountain out in California, I realized quickly that I was VERY WORRIED about ME!!!!
I had no idea what I was doing. I went screaming down that sheet of snow like Wyle E. Coyote with the grace of Goofy. I was too afraid to fall, that I would break something or run into a tree, so I kept going at my ever-increasing break-neck speed and prayed that somehow SOMETHING would make me fall and NOT kill someone ELSE in the process!
It was horrible.
Yet, there I was on Day 2, perched at the top of that mountain (after a few lessons from Hubs), petrified to try it again. (And you know once you've taken that chair thingy up to the top, there is no WAY you are catching a ride back down. There is only one way down, baby!)
So, with my skis angled into each other, I eeked my way down the face of that cliff. (They called it the "Beginner Slope," but I knew better by then.)
Soon into it, I noticed this little girl in front of me. About 5 or 6 years old, she was skiing with no poles, just skis on her feet, angled into each other just like mine. Her dad was obviously wishing he was on the Diamond slopes (which, conveniently, was where Hubs ran off to, leaving Wyle E. all on her own) because the guy would ski a ways down, then wait, wait, wait for his little girl to catch up.
"If she can do it, I can do it."
It was my mantra. I told myself that phrase about 500 times as we timidly made our way down, down, down. That phrase kept my brain from terrorizing itself, whenever it tried to remember the events of the previous day.
The poor little thing even fell a couple of times, and I would ski over and scoop her back up.
NO, I was NOT being "NICE." I NEEDED her!!! I could NOT make it down that mountain without my little lucky charm, showing me, just be EXISTING, that if a five-year-old could make it down and not DIE, then, doggone it, I can, TOO!
So this new blogger-woman was my newest motivator. If SHE could take care of her kids, and her home, and her blog and not DIE, then, doggone it, I can, TOO!!!
But as I opened up my Typepad this afternoon, feeling a need to write but not really knowing what about, I saw this other blogger's feed on my homepage.
"I'll read just one little post," I told myself, "to get the juices flowing."
And there it was.
N-A-N-N-Y.
Not that she hid it, because she didn't. And not that I have anything against nannies, because I don't. And not that her life isn't fraught with it's own day-to-day problems and challenges and what-nots.
It's like I just found out my five-year-old lifesaver was actually on a motorized conveyor belt.
So I will be looking for a new Bloggy Wonder Mom that I can hitch my ski poles to. I know they are out there, the ones that keep house and raise kids and do cool stuff and blog about it. Actually, I already know some amazing and talented women who do just that.
I guess I was just sucked into the shiny newness of this one.
