Here I Am (And There I Go)

I had grand notions for what my first blog post was going to be here, but those grand notions went up in snot. (Hipsters can have their ideas go up in smoke; us moms have ideas that disappear in much more mundane places.) I'm too tired to formulate a brilliant first post. My darling angel, my Sweetie Pie, has her first cold. Now Sweetie Pie isn't such a sleeper as it is. Let me rephrase that: Sweetie Pie is a fabulous sleeper. She does it quite often. Just never for very long. We cosleep with her (yes, yes, I know what the American Academy of Pediatricians has to say about it, but it's what works for our family) and she's a grazer as it is. Give this child a runny nose, and she's up every hour (instead of every two hours), wanting to pacify herself on my br*east. (It's my main profession these days; I'm thinking of having business cards made up: Jenny Brown, Human Pacifier.)

So let me just say hi and tell you who I am and let that suffice for my first posting here. My name is Jenny, which you, smart person that you are, figured out from that first paragraph. I have a son, Doodles, who is two and a daughter, Sweetie Pie, who is three and a half months (my kids are two years and two days apart--August is going to be a very expensive month for us). I've chosen not to use their real names because they have enough ammunition to use in therapy against me already; Doodles doesn't need to add to the list, "My mom wrote about my p*enis and the whole world knows about it!" which I've done on more than one occasion. Doodles is in day care a few days a week, while I work from home as a writer/editor, and Sweetie Pie will be joining him there next month, which I'm majorly angsting over. I'm a runner, but a slow one. I've run one marathon and hope to run another. I've been back running for about eight weeks and it's slooooow going, but I've signed up for the Covered Bridges Half Marathon next June, so I have a goal, which for me is half the battle.

I'm sure there's more to say, but Sweetie Pie is asleep on me and I'm thinking I need to join her. I can already see that little mouth going, trying to lunge for my chest. So I now I must perform my nightly ritual of shedding my persona as mild-mannered mom and assume my super hero identity of... The Human Pacifier! (I hope you heard the thundering music that went with that sentence. I heard it. Or is that just the sleep deprivation humming? Either way, good night!)