Lawks-a-Missy...do that many people read my blog?

What a lot of comments that last post provoked! I had not checked in with my blog in a few days. What with going out on Friday night and taking the weekend to garden, I just looked at it for the first time in several days last night. (I had the playgroup (the one I crashed, and then officially joined) meet at my house on Monday, to make me look less like a hanger on and more like someone who’s supposed to be there. I spent the weekend tidying up the garden, in case the weather permitted outdoor frolicking, and did some baking in preparation. I put too much lemon oil in the damn pound cake, so it was too intensely lemony, and then I over-baked it, because I was busy moving the peonies, so it was a little bitter as well as being too intensely lemony. No-one remarked on it, so maybe it slid past the culinary radar. Or perhaps the other mamas merely thought – “Hey! Pound cake!” and didn’t stop to analyze each bite as they chomped down a slice as fast as they could and went back to chasing their offspring. The group meets at 9:30 on Mondays; I used to think it was an odd time to have a play group. Wouldn’t 2:30 on a Wednesday be better? You know, middle of the week hump, the weekend is still mighty far away and the days are getting endless? However, now that I have had a turn as hostess, I realize first thing Monday morning is MUCH better. This way one can take the weekend to scurry around, tidying, vacuuming and baking, making the house as neat as one would wish it to be all the time. On the day, when the other mamas commented how tidy everything was, I was able to demur – “Oh, well, I just like a neat house, it’s not that organized…” whilst mentally petting myself for getting away with pretending I’m sooo with it.)

At any rate – all those comments! Thank you all for the feedback and for the nice remarks and the support! I do appreciate it. However, I am not going to alter my profile again, I do think I was a bit overly woe-is-me and it was way too long. No, if someone wants to know what I’m about, they should read the blog, which what is happening, apparently.

I agree with suggestion to take more “me” time. I did go see a movie last week, and, for the first time, I had the baby sitter watch the boys on her own. Baby steps for me, but progress is progress. (Of course, I broke the land speed record getting home, but that’s another post, involving a skillful two-wheeled turn onto a highway ramp, and other adventures. No, I’m kidding! ) To the lady who pointed out that the incessant pumping of breast-milk adds to the feelings of being overwhelmed and frustrated and depressed…well, if I’d known THAT…

Also, in many another comments, I read that I shouldn’t feel bad about guzzling the java; must needs and all that. Well, okay, if y’all insist. My favorite is Toffee Nut Latte, no whip and skim milk, please! (Wow – that Momotrips is tough. She can drink a Venti! A Grande is my limit.)

However, the best part of all the comments was the unmasking of the original anonymous as a lady with a name, and to read that someone else has the same wacky thoughts I do. Yes, I too have thought that I could be friends with some of the people I have met on line, through their blogs and through mine. Yes, I too have wanted to give out/get a phone number and wanted to start a chitchat thing with someone who I felt would/could/should understand me. Besides, there is never enough time to type out all you could say in a phone call, or over lunch, or even over – gasp! – an extra large cup of coffee. The Mother of Multiples Club, to which I belong, is a group of acquaintances, I am not surprised to report. There is one lady I relate to, or think I could relate to, but her twins are just five months old, and she has a two year old at home as well. I don’t think she’s ready to socialize yet. What are we going to do with four infants and a toddler and only two hands each?

I totally agree with the poster who commented – MOT, you need to get out and make more friends. Duh, yeah! I can’t stay home all day – I really will crack up. I still take long walks, almost on a daily basis, with the boys in the double jogging stroller, but still alone. There was a lady I walked with a few times, but my babies “schedule” is pretty unpredictable. I don’t like to taken them out if they’re not in the mood. I can’t carry them both anymore. The playgroup I crashed has several intelligent, funky and interesting mamas with whom I would love to socialize, but I do think they would be a bit overwhelmed by my twins and their excessive neediness. It’s hard to talk/think/breathe with two babies swarming all over at any given time. And as a nursing mama, (yes, I know I am lucky to be able to do it, no bragging intended) I am liable to expose a boob at some point. (As my sister has pointed out, I have always flashed a bit of cleavage anyway, so no bragging on my convenient lack of modesty either.) Some people actually get embarrassed, even in this laid back oh-big-deal-it’s-a-boob day and age. One of the playgroup ladies lives quite close to me and I think she's cool and my type of mama. I am considering calling her to get together, but I am hesitant to smother her and her singleton with my atom bomb family.

One friend of mine, who has braved a solo visit with her four month old, said, as she was leaving – “I’m exhausted from just watching you. I don’t know whether to genuflect or to offer you a martini and a hug.” That about sums up why I don’t have a lot of visitors, and why I am reluctant to have play dates, unless they are en masse and the intensity is distributed. That also sums up why I have such a darn hard time making friends anyway – I kind of want a martini drinking, hugging, chummy buddy kind of relationship with a friend, but I also want to be someone worth admiring – I want to be found fabulous. Who doesn’t? But then who wants to be buddies with someone you have to admire? No-body. Then again, who wants to be friends with some one who wants to be petted and comforted all the time?

Uggghhh. I make myself nuts trying to figure it out. Who do I want to be? Who am I now that I have my boys? Who will I be when they no longer need a milk-making, diaper-changing, spoon-feeding caregiver? Will I become a martyr mother, who, after eighteen years of giving her all, wants to follow her boys to college, because she has nothing of her own? That’s why I want to write books, and work on my art projects. It’s not just to get away from the lovingly sticky clutches of my twins, (although that is nice sometimes) it’s also so I have something of my own to do.

Ya know, maybe the controversial anonymous and I could be friends after all. She seems to be defensive, (like me) proud of her accomplishments, (like me) and a little confused by the attack of her needy family. Just like me.