I'm a baaaddd mother-SHUTYOMOUTH

I had a special day with the offspring. First, we went the zoo (Petsmart), where we looked at lions and tigers,  (striped), various amphibians, exotic birds (one macaw), and schools of very rare fish (goldfish). Then, we went to the fancy mall (Target), where we shopped for hours (twenty minutes) and left with new makeup and lingerie (Hannah Montana undies. Size xx small).

After that, both tired and hungry, I fed the child a gourmet meal (Lunchable) and desert (mini Kit Kat bar). Such a busy day, the little tyke went right to sleep (took forty freaking minutes) and slept for three glorious hours (forty-five freaking minutes), so I could get some writing done (none).

I've got to admit, I'm really missing the whole band scene at this exact moment, as I sit in sweats with no make-up and my hair in need of a good scrub. As I said yesterday, the days bleed into each other, sitting, waiting. I hate the waiting. Life is so short, I constantly feel like I'm missing out on something while I wait. Sure, I enjoy stay-at-home-mommy hood and I wouldn't trade it. But I wonder, when did I stop being a guitar wielding, short skirt-wearing, social butterfly and become a pull-up toting, stretchy waistband sporting, hermit?

Some days I feel I've lost parts that made me, me. Others, like when my husband holds my hand, my daughter says "I wuv you," or when Bert sings to me, I feel more alive than ever. But what about the time in between? The time I check my email every ten seconds and it's still empty, waiting. The time I cook dinner, to eat alone, waiting on my husband to get home. The time I post my blog, waiting on comments. The time I enter a contest, or two or seven, to see if I've even come close, waiting.

The only thing, constant and true to who I am, other than music, motherhood and wife, are writing and waiting.

Now the beauty is playing quietly (running through the house with a hula hoop, chasing cats), so Mommy can finish her chapter (start a chapter/potato/po-TAH-to). When I'm done, we'll go into her playroom and dress the Barbies (who are always naked for some reason) and have loads of fun (when she's not swatting me with their synthetic hair). All in a day's work for this gal. Mother. Writer. Superhero (a tired one) with superpowers (the amazing ability to make a time-out appear in seconds).

Is there something you miss about yourself? What's constant in your life?


Candyland. OOUUTTTTTT. (and still waiting)
Ps. If you can't tell, I'm waiting! In the meantime, please send me pics for Friday's dedication. Don't be scared.