Sunday
Clothes – washed ‘em
Church – went, sweated – it was hot, but *yawn,* no offense God. That priest is very uninspiring.
Groceries – bought ‘em, cooked ‘em
Kid – fed her, clothed her, changed her – all times three… no, clothes times four – church dress. She looked cute.
Best present I got for Mother’s Day. My brother in law (sis #2) watched Zoë, and sis #2 and I saw The Mighty Wind. I knew it wasn’t going to be that good, but went just to go somefuckingwhere.
Zoë made me a tissue / clothes pin butterfly. I love it.
Just another Sunday in the life of a single mom.
--------------------------------
The guiltiest I always feel is when Zoë is sick and I have to take her to school. I only get 20 hours of sick leave. I used that within two months of receiving the hours. I am negative on my vacation time from Zoë’s stomach flu last year. So here I am. At work. Thinking about my child.
Kids at daycare just get sick. Working parents (most of us) can’t afford to stay home with every little cold. Therefore, all of our children pass around such nastiness to one another on a regular basis. But it makes you feel like the shittiest parent in the world to dope your child up and bring her to school when she feels bad.
And you know what? Your boss doesn’t fucking care. They just want you at work. Do the job. No drama. They wish for the employee who has no life. They don’t ever want to hear about it. Just fucking show up and do your work. I know this.
I used to be a boss. I supervised 42 secretaries. Like being the keeper of a hen house. BUT I WAS NEVER ONE OF THOSE BOSSES! Where I worked, you couldn’t use your sick leave for your kids/spouse. It was only to be used if you were sick. So I had a code with my secretary moms. If their kids were sick, I told them to say “I’m sick and my child is sick too.” I felt it was my responsibility not to make them feel guilty about missing work. I mean, they feel bad enough about their kids. It was my job to cover for them. Several times I actually filled in for them. I was a good boss. I’m glad not to be a boss anymore. It sucked.
My bosses are butts. Most of the time they don’t even say hello. Just do the work fuck you. I don’t want to have to tell them about Zoë being sick, but I want to go. I need to go. She was really feeling bad.
She was dragging this morning. Woke up every hour on the hour last night with congestion. She’s just plain full of snot and no amount of decongestants will make it go away sometimes.
We watched “Drumline” last night. Twice. Talk about your guilty pleasures. She loved the music. I love marching bands, especially these. They were cool and funky.
I asked her what she wanted to be when she grows up. She said “a princess and a queen.” Looks like someone is going to go visit NASA this summer. I hate Barbie and fairy princesses. How did I end up with such a girly girl?
I want to be with her. I don’t want to be working (ok, stop laughing, I know I never want to be working…) Today, all I can think about is my little girl, snottily snoring. Poor thing.
I feel like the worst mother on the face of the planet.
Happy Mother’s Day.