Take, Take Me Home
This will be a quick one. If history dictates anything, I have about 6 minutes before Millie wakes up from her early morning nap.
She actually ate for the babysitter yesterday, so perhaps we have turned a corner in her boycotting the bottle for the lovely young woman who watches her. She's been totally off the wall lately, in a good way. Non-stop movement, which is great. Exhausting, but great.
On a whining moment, I miss my old town. I met the best friends of my life there, people who I consider family. Now they are an hour and a half away and I have a daughter who can't make it to the grocery store, which is less than a mile away, without freaking out, screaming and gagging herself into throwing up any breastmilk in her little tummy. There, in Rhode Island, are her multiple surrogate aunties, other women with little children, other women who I'd love my little daughter to learn from and know and love. Jessica, Claudia, Tricia & her amazing children, Pat, Davis & her little Claire, Mary-Ann, Maryann, Lisa & her pumpkin. Don't get me wrong. I have friends here. School friends, some with little kids. Friends from the crew I work on, few of whom have little ones. The three of us went to a superbowl party this Sunday, in the late afternoon, before the drunkenness and football screaming began, and I never felt so old and out of place in my life. There were a whole host of other funky juju going on at the awkward party that had nothing to do with us being old, married and with child, but my how things have changed. If I was at "home" (not PA home, of course, but Bristol home), I would have been AT HOME. With my peer group and beyond. Oh well. Time changes. I'll have to invest in baby sedatives for Millie, put her in the car, and go home. I miss my peeps.
She actually ate for the babysitter yesterday, so perhaps we have turned a corner in her boycotting the bottle for the lovely young woman who watches her. She's been totally off the wall lately, in a good way. Non-stop movement, which is great. Exhausting, but great.
On a whining moment, I miss my old town. I met the best friends of my life there, people who I consider family. Now they are an hour and a half away and I have a daughter who can't make it to the grocery store, which is less than a mile away, without freaking out, screaming and gagging herself into throwing up any breastmilk in her little tummy. There, in Rhode Island, are her multiple surrogate aunties, other women with little children, other women who I'd love my little daughter to learn from and know and love. Jessica, Claudia, Tricia & her amazing children, Pat, Davis & her little Claire, Mary-Ann, Maryann, Lisa & her pumpkin. Don't get me wrong. I have friends here. School friends, some with little kids. Friends from the crew I work on, few of whom have little ones. The three of us went to a superbowl party this Sunday, in the late afternoon, before the drunkenness and football screaming began, and I never felt so old and out of place in my life. There were a whole host of other funky juju going on at the awkward party that had nothing to do with us being old, married and with child, but my how things have changed. If I was at "home" (not PA home, of course, but Bristol home), I would have been AT HOME. With my peer group and beyond. Oh well. Time changes. I'll have to invest in baby sedatives for Millie, put her in the car, and go home. I miss my peeps.
posted by Kris at 8:07 AM
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