Parenthood got me down? No way!

I've seen a few people write about this post on the Baby Project Blog @NPR.  The author maintains that parenting is hard and nobody lets us talk about it.  Hold on.  Say WHAT?


People don't talk about this enough. It's really hard, being a parent. At times, it's crushing. But you're never allowed to say this.


Excuse me?  Wait, what? I figure she's too busy with her children to log onto Facebook for the daily onslaught of parental complaints.  And somehow she's missed out on glorious ladies like Kate and Lydia at Rants from Mommyland (who seem to be, awesomely, EVERYWHERE these days!). Perhaps she missed drop-off at Preschool when at the very least one bedraggled sweat-pantsed lady talks about the tough morning they had rolling out of bed. The virtual mommy-water cooler is full of ladies are talking about being down - and getting right back up. 


But M, you say, she's not talking about tough days, she's talking about the grueling project of raising a child. 


But so am I.  I have never been made to feel that I can't talk about how tough this gig is. My youngest is 9 months old and I still get So how are things going? and Is she sleeping? and How's life with 3? and even the occasional Hey.  You ok? .  And the people who ask get answers.  They get honest answers that are multifaceted.  It's more than It's the toughest job I've ever loved! or I'm exhausted, but it's so rewarding!


I love parenting.  I'm 8 1/2 years in with three kids under my belt - dare I say it, I enjoy it.  I've learned that practically every tough time - the fourth wakeup by 1 am or the 5 year old screaming I hate you! are countered by snuggles and giggles and watching these little people discover a world that I've come to ignore. 
It *is* hard. And the best part about this gig is that nobody has ever made me feel bad for saying that.  
On the flip-side, though, I have discovered something about parenting.  I've discovered that those who are trying to become parents often encounter plenty of folks who work hard to discourage their expressions of frustration, anger, and loss.  Over the course of the last several years, I've met a whole lot of lovely ladies for whom the road to parenting has been hard.  And what do they hear when they talk about how tough it's been?  Relax!  It'll happen! or But you can do so much without babies! or Just think of all the things you can DO without kids!  or my personal favorite: If this doesn't work out, you can just adopt.  It seems that while people feel comfort in the Parenthood's-got-me-down persona, they often don't or won't acknowledge that Wanting-but-not-having-Parenthood is a whole other bag of got-me-downness that is all too often dismissed or ignored.


So to the parents I know who are feeling down: let's talk, like we always do.  And to the incredible people I know who are still somewhere on the road to parenthood: I'm here and I'll listen.  I can't pretend to understand, but I can promise not to dismiss your trials and tribulations. 

Friday Miscellany

1).  I did a photo spread with the Ging-ah and a gummy snake yesterday.  She's officially shed Tenacious E and Gingah and taken on a new nickname:  Honey Badger.  Randall can tell you all about it.

2). Speaking of Ginger:  I've had this song stuck in my head all week.  Of course, Honey badger isn't an official Ginger, she's a Ninja Gingah.

3).  I went to a friend's house today and she showered me with hand-me-downs.  Which is amazing and awesome and goes with the hand-me-downs I get from another friend and you know what?  EVERY time I dress Elsa, it's like shopping.  There's SO MUCH and it's so awesome.

4). The next time one of my children screams, I'm going to punch myself (couldn't finish this entry because all three children were screaming at me.  So I was busy punching myself in the face.  Oh yeah.).

5). Rebecca Black is obviously a child, because in MY house "It's Friday" means at approximately 3:47, this house will fall apart into shards of screaming children and fragments of pain doused with a healthy dose of starvation and omygodi'mgoingtodieifidon'teatsomethingnoooooowwwwwwwwwwwww.  In other words, there's no kickin' in the back seat or sittin' in the front seat.  Which seat do I choose?  The one on a train out of town for a girl's weekend, that's which one.

6). I've had "Come on Eileen" in my head since the news started covering hurricane Irene, except I switch Eileen to Irene. And then I feel like I might be taunting the hurricane which makes me feel bad.

7). Carter has a new daily exercise of claiming he's sick.  His throat no stomach no head no arms no legs no his pockets hurt.  We have a new daily exercise of not caring - but this leads to a conundrum as a parent, doesn't it?  Perhaps I need to read him Chicken Little, and not the movie version.  Or The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

8).  My son went to his first day of school in a tuxedo jacket, a tshirt, tux pants, and flip flops.  I've never been so proud.  What a good Colorado boy I have!

I swear I have something to say. . .

but it's going to have to wait until tomorrow.

Sorry.

I will, however, leave you with this, Andy Rooney style:

You know what I hate?

The word FINALLY.

Particularly when someone uses it in the sentence "My child is finally sleeping through the night" and their child is under a year old.

Repurposing for the BUDGE:

I'm on a repurposing kick.  Of course part of it is that I'm cheap.  Super cheap.  Another part is that the BUDGE is way way way skinny.  He's so skinny that his SLIM jeans fall down.  Unbelieveable, really.

So I found this tutorial and decided I'd go ahead and make some pants that fit.

I started with these awesome soft pants that Tim never really liked.  OK, I'll be honest, they were supposed to be dry clean.  Or, rather, they were Dry Clean Recommended.  And I didn't.  I mean, I rarely dry clean things that require dry cleaning so given the opportunity to skip it altogether, I did.  To, apparently, the detriment of the pants.  I don't know if they shrunk or what, but Tim no longer wore them.  It was sad and they languished in the basement pile of clothes (actually, they were slept upon by the cat) to be ironed.

 See how wrinkly?  Yeah, well, fortunately 5 year olds don't mind wrinkles.  So I ripped them apart while watching TV last night, then, today, using the aforementioned tutorial, I sewed them back together so that they looked like this:

 Okay, so there are a few problems.  I miscalculated a few things and, strangely, the Old Navy jeans I used as a pattern must hang VERY differently from these. . so I learned some lessons in draping and stuff.  Rather than being on the sides, the side seams sort of run at an angle around the boy's leg, but it gives them some personality which, to be frank, is fitting of The Budge.

Here's the back.  See those side seams sneaking back and across the back of the leg?  Again, clearly I'd be kicked off the Project Runway crew this week, but what the hell.  Like I said, the kid's five and pants are pants, right?

Edited to add a few things:
FIRST OFF:  They look much better now that they've been properly ironed and hemmed.  Not perfect, but OK.  Secondly, my mother patiently told me I cut them on the bias when I changed the angle -- which is, I guess, what I mean by "I need a Project Runway lesson in draping."  For real, people, it's the fabric, not me.  Or, well, it *is* me.  But it's the fabric too!

Update:  I ironed down the seams, per my lovely friend Julia.  Problem is this fabric really is impervious to ironing.  Still, they look better than they did yesterday: