Does Anybody Seriously Care How Much Oprah Weighs?

I mean, seriously? Who is worse? Oprah, for thinking that anybody cares that she has gained weight? Or society, for actually caring?

It's a toss-up.

Seriously, Why Can't I Just Move On Already?

It's been a year and a half since I left my job. I think that I miss it as much today as I did the day I left.

I'm having fun with the girls, please understand. I keep racking my brain trying to think of a way to have it all. Right now. I know women do it all the time. Don't they?

Here's the problem. I still don't feel like I want to put them in daycare. Disclaimer: I realize there is nothing at all wrong with daycare, it's just not for me personally.

The impossible dream for me, I suppose, is to have a full-time job and still be able to be the only one with my girls.

I want my job back so bad that it hurts. It's a bit like breaking up with a boyfriend. A boyfriend with whom you know that things can never work out long-term. But he's so hot and there is just something about him that sometimes you just don't care. You want him back. Now.

Sometimes I'm driving along in my car and I hear a song. A stupid song, perhaps, but a song that reminds me of driving along in my squad car. Window down, hair flowing through my long, luxurious pre-baby locks. Listening to the radio on a hot summer night and hoping that folks everywhere would start beating the shit out of each other so that I could go do my job.

I'm seriously kidding about that last part. And about the luxurious locks thing. But, seriously. Did anyone else's hair turn to straw post-babies like mine did?

Porky's

I am officially as heavy as I was when I got married. I have officially gained back all of the weight I lost over the past few years.

I am officially pissed.

How could I let this happen?

Back to the gym I guess.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Targeting Constipation

Could Target be the magic bullet cure for constipation? My bowels tell me this is so.

Fo' real. I don't know what it is about that place. Every time I step into SuperTarget to do my weekly grocery shopping, the urge strikes.

I chalked it up to mere coincidence the first few times. But at this point, it can be no coincidence. It is virtually guaranteed that I will have to abandon cart within ten minutes of arrival.

I always wonder if the security guys are watching me from above. "That lady again. Can't she do that before she gets here?"

If you don't believe me, try it out. And then let me know.

Maybe it's just me.

Freedom: It Doesn't Suck

The day finally came. I put the elder on the bus to go to kindergarten. I dropped off the little one off at her first day of preschool.

I went and got myself a big, greasy, gut-bomb of a lunch that I then ate while sitting in front of my television watching an episode of The Hills that I DVRed. Hey, I figured, if I'm stuffing my gut with junk, I might as well stuff my brain with junk simultaneously. It made perfect sense at the time.

Then, I sat back and listened.

Nothing. The only sound came from the two goldfish in the kitchen who have the oddly endearing habit of slurping water at the surface of their bowl.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that the silence was pure, unadulterated bliss. I actually felt a little guilty for having been granted this gift of free time.

For a long time, I thought about all of the things that I would do when this day came. I would clean the house, I would catch up on laundry, I would reorganize the kitchen cabinets.

I didn't feel like doing a damn thing, though. I guess that's where the guilt came from. I'm sure I'll get around to doing some of those things.

But not today.

Or tomorrow either.

Kindergarten

Pretty much from the time I brought my elder home from the hospital, I was preparing myself for the first day of kindergarten. I knew that I would feel a giant lead weight in my stomach as I watched her walk into school and out of my clutches for good. Well, for two and a half hours at least. I pictured myself at home with my little one, making cookies as I awaited the elder's arrival home from school.

She would run toward my car as I waited for her in the pickup line. She would throw her arms around me hug me as if she never was going to let go. She would then hop in her car seat and begin chattering excitedly about all the new and wonderful things she learned on her first day in kindergarten. She would hungrily gobble up the oatmeal raisin cookies (her personal favorite) I made for her while she was at school. She would thank me endlessly for making her favorite cookies.

How's that for a fantasy?

Here's the reality.

I had a (private) countdown to the first day of kindergarten. I watched with pride, a smidgen of sadness and a great deal of happiness as she walked into school. Yes, I took pictures and video. Yes, I waved enthusiastically until she disappeared into the classroom.

But, silently, I was shrieking, "Hallelujah! Peace and quiet!"

Noticeably absent was the aforementioned lead weight in my stomach. In fact, I felt the lead weight leave my stomach and float lazily and happily up into the sky.

Is it wrong?

Remember me?

Well, lucky readers (all one of you), I think I may be back. I was on sabbatical for awhile there. What have I been up to, you ask? Along with attempting to maintain some thinly-veiled semblance of sanity, I started school again. A master's program in counseling. Funny, huh? The person who probably is in the most need of counseling is soon going to be counseling others?

Takes one to know one, right?

Hey, if nothing else, it is one free night a week without kids. And I'm learning. And stuff.

Here's the thing. I'm doing the stay-at-home thing for now. But I don't want to do it forever. Not that there's anything wrong with doing it forever. It's just- I've tried it on. I can squeeze myself into it for awhile. But long term, I gotta shed the weight and put my old clothes back on.

You feel me?