Well, I'm back to work. I tried to explain to my boss that I had started a blog and I really needed to devote my time and energy to pondering the parental existence and thus I would no longer be able to actually, well, work. This was not met with the open-arms of support that I had hoped for so the blog got wait-listed.
That, and it took me another week to think of something to write. You should know now - I'm kinda stupid.
I wasn't always. I'm certain I wasn't born stupid, nor was I raised stupid. I used to be quite sharp. I could hold my own in intellectual circles, trading interesting tidbits of trivia blended with insightful commentary on world events. No, I'm convinced I remember a time when I knew a bucket o' stuff. Then came the children, and my life became a sort of blurry haze. It didn't happen all at once; it was more like a slow leak. Like a snail, I've left a trail of intelligence slime along the path and now I'm nothing but a shell and some confused jelly.
Nine years of sleep deprivation, cheerio crumbs and Barney have left me somewhat dim. It's very hard to think about stability in the Middle East when I'm pondering such questions as "Where is that smell coming from?".
To try and stem the loss of brain cells, I thought about joining a book club. Then I remembered that the last book I'd read was "Clifford's Big Vacation".
"Tell us, what did you think about the piece?"
"Well, I think Mr. Bleakman's resentment of Clifford is a thinly veiled attempt to come to terms with his own discomfort about his failures in life. No matter how hard he tries, he will simply never be big enough....or red enough. Obviously, Emily Elizabeth serves as the catalyst for Mr. Bleakman's redemption."
I think not.
I had heard that learning a new hobby was a great was to keep the mind active, so I decided to try knitting. My son's classmates, mere children of 7 and 8 at the time, were prodigious knitters. If they could do it, so could I! I imagined all of the money we would save by making beautiful hand made scarves for our families at Christmas. $200 in yarn and needles later, I have several stretches of wool that could be at best described as fuzzy tootsie rolls. I plan to give them out next year as a new product I call "Finger Cozies". If you get one, act surprised.
Then I tried to learn a new language; perhaps with my new skill I could travel the world. This challenge was met with moderate success, until I learned that no one in the world actually speaks Ubby-Dubby except for the Zoom kids.
I have to admit that there have been some trade-offs. For all of the knowledge and common sense I have lost over the years, I have gained as well. For example, I now know how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so that the bread doesn't get soggy. I can break into a locked room from the outside. I know all of the words to the Hanna Montana theme song. I know the number for poison control.
Now if I could only figure out where that smell is coming from.