Ahhh. It's good to be back after a wee bit of blogging absence. Kind of like settling in to a worn armchair with a precisely right, rear-shaped dent.
I suppose that's a bit crass, isn't it? I'll end it before it goes on too far. I wouldn't want to be the butt of any jokes.
Womp, womp.
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The more eagle-eyed among you may have noticed that there's a troll afoot. I've since shifted around the way I do comments, so there shouldn't be a problem anymore. Funny to think that someone's out there getting their knickers in a twist to post grammatically incorrect flameouts on my wee lil' blog. I must be all grown up in the beeeeeg city now, Grandma.
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I've considered posting before on the odd mix of moms in my playgroup, and how we all get along but haven't quite gelled, but I just came back from a really fun session. I think we're finally moving away from being too polite to say anything of consequence. Granted, I still don't think there are going to be any impassioned debates about literature or the economy, but that's not what I'm there for, anyway. One of the moms just got a job and is going back to work, and I'm going to miss her. She's really excited about it, too, which has set me on a whole different train of thought about what might happen to us if MLA doesn't work out again this year.
Is it really the best idea for Mr. Milkweed to just throw it all in and move off for a high school teaching position? Amazingly, I'm not as sure anymore. I'm equally not sure we could maintain this house of cards if I get pregnant again-- and yes, conversations about the timing there have already, frighteningly begun-- so I'm really trying to stay open-minded about how the rest of the world might deal with that. As in, with two full-time incomes. It's not what I've always imagined myself doing, and right now I can honestly say it's not what I want to do, but so much about my life looks so completely different from the things I used to imagine at 12, and again in high school, and again in college. At some point, you have to consider other options, even if other options look bad.
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The hyphen is, by far, my most over-used grammatical crutch. I wonder if it has to do with the fact that I use it every time I write my name? I just want to assure you, though, that I can stop anytime I want to! Anytime! I just don't want to right now!
Got a light?
2 comments:
Here is a principle that I stuck with very early on, before I got married: I never want my significant other (now wife) to ask herself what she might have been able to achieve were it not for me holding her back out of fear, and in return I'll take it on faith that she doesn't want to hold me back from my dreams either. I just never want to hear "I gave you the best year of my life!"--because, you know, things DO go wrong in relationships; might as well not screw things up totally for the other person if they do. Also, more realistically, one wants to be in a relationship with the whole person...not just the parts of them that have been squeezed into one's vision of a life.
There's some fine print here, I guess. First, this principle holds as long as the dreams in question are ones we both knew about going in to this relationship deal. Second, certain dreams can be deferred if larger priorities (as defined by both parties) would actually get in the way--actually, I say, because fear is a powerful motivator but often not very grounded in reality. Third, though it requires intense faith in one's significant other, the decision whether or not to defer the dream has to be the unrushed and unpressured decision of the person who would be deferring it.
My most over-used grammatical crutch is the dash--definitely.
I love those moments where relationships seem to ease up and become more natural, which sounds like what you are describing with the women in your play group.
The work/stay at home/family planning thing is SO HARD. I know there have been all kinds of things written about it, but still, who knew? It has been by far one of the most difficult things to figure out in my life.
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