Proof that Annika is not just an extension of me

This week Annika has let us know that she's been paying attention to what's going on with her life. Out of the blue, she said to Toyin, "Annika two homes." Then a couple of days later she said it to me. We weren't talking about Toyin or homes or anything that would prompt it, so clearly, it's been on her mind.

This completely trips me out. My 21-month-old child has figured out on her own that she has two homes and has been thinking about it completely independent of any discussion.

I know that children are separate people from their parents; that they are not just extensions of us. Before I had a child it seemed pretty obvious.

But ever since I carried Annika in my womb for 9 months along with having her cling to me for literally all of her basic necessities like sustenance, help falling asleep, carrying her before she could walk, and soothing, and as she gained a bit of independence, still helping her transition from one state to another, guiding about 90 percent of her motions throughout life, it was hard to accept the reality that she truly is a whole other person.

Then bam! Just like that, she throws it in my face. "Hey Mom, I have thoughts."

Annika has her own thoughts.

Wow.

The past couple of months have clearly been difficult for her. She's apparently been processing our split. Almost three months after we moved into different apartments, she's figured it out.

"Annika two homes." 

I know at some point we told her that we would not be living together anymore, but at 19 months it must be a hard concept to understand. I mean really, think about it, the concept that you poop and pee in a bowl instead of a diaper is difficult to understand.

I can't even imagine how she finally came to the conclusion.

Toyin has been telling her that we go to Mommy's home and then to Daddy's home. I guess it finally sank in.

The notion that she's been processing our split and finally come to some conclusions on her own is also proof that sometimes parents really have no idea what kind of stuff their children are thinking about.

It gives me some clarity on why parents are often at a loss as to why their children behave in ways they don't understand.

It scares me a little to think that already my child has thoughts and problems weighing on her mind that I don't have a clue about. All I know is that I worried about our split and processed it pretty quickly. I suppose I thought she had done the same.

It's pretty cool that she told both of us what she's been thinking about. It's also proof that kids don't often make a big deal out of talking like adults do. Parents have to pay attention and snag the big stuff or it will get lost in the chatter.

This divulgence gives me even more incentive to stay connected to her, to stay close to her so that she will feel comfortable enough to talk to me whenever she needs help or clarity in her life.

I wish I had had that growing up.

My Dad told me once that he remembers when I was first in college, I came home one day and was moping around. He asked me what was wrong. I told him I was depressed. He said to me, "Oh, just get over it."

Yeah.

I'm not going to go there. 

The funny thing is, I don't remember the incident. But he does. Or, he did anyway. I guess even when parents don't say the right thing or know what to say, their kids problems stick with them.

As for me, I hope that even when I don't say the right thing, it will still be loving and obvious to Annika that I'm at least trying, that I love her unconditionally and that no matter how her life turns out or how she chooses to live, I will love her wholeheartedly.

One thing that I want to do differently than my parents did is to give Annika a secure base to work with so that she will always be on solid ground emotionally. I never had that. And it's the one thing I needed.

So, just what does an ear infection feel like?

I know you all are just dying to read more about my ear infection.

Okay, okay, I promise will be the last post about my puss-filled ear. In the meantime, kick back, grab a bag of popcorn because this is going to be just like an episode of Grey's Anatomy, minus the sex and angst.

Being naturally curious and also since I am attempting to be a mindful mother, I generally try to see the world through Annika's eyes as much as possible and it occurred to me that in some ways it might have been a blessing that I had this ear infection, in case Annika ever has one, I will know how she is feeling.

First off, I gotta say, if your kid has an ear infection, keep the pain medication coming! This is not one of those times that you should skimp on the ibuprofen thinking that it's not that bad.

It is that bad. Hell, it's worse. I was wishing for some Vicodin during the worst of it.

So here goes:

I started to feel a buildup of pressure on Friday afternoon and by the evening, my ear felt like something had crawled down inside it and was growing, it was clawing around inside my ear canal and scratching me, making me feel highly uncomfortable.

By Saturday, I felt achy, nauseous and had tremendous pain in my ear, and also along my jaw. My outer ear was swollen and red hot as well, but the worse part was the pain that was traveling up and down the left side of my face and shooting me in the gums. I also felt feverish off and on throughout the day. I never took my temperature. I think I only ran a low-grade fever off and on. The infection was sitting hard and clumped up right inside my ear canal. I could feel it in there. It felt like a big ball of gunk that needed to come out so like a little kid who can't stop picking at her scabby knees, I kept picking at it around the edges until Toyin threatened to take away my Yugioh card collection.

This whole thing started because I used some ear candles, and the jury is still out on whether I think that was a good idea. See, I had some ringing in my ears for several months and the ear candles were the second thing I tried, after using colloidal silver drops, which didn't seem to help.

I mention this because my ear infection was clearly brought on by something that a child would likely not do, and so some of my symptoms might be irregular.

My theory on this ear infection is that I had something infectious deep down inside my ear canal and the ear candles loosened it up.

By Wednesday the pain was completely gone, but the ringing is still there, it is localized right inside my ear canal where I could feel the infection sitting.

For several days every time I swallowed my ear popped and it felt like I was landing after a three-hour flight to nowhere.

If you didn't read my previous post about my trip to the pharmacy, I started taking Congaplex last Monday and started feeling tremendously better the next day. The pain is gone and now I just have this damn dead bug ringing in my ear. 

So there you have it. That's what an ear infection feels like. A big hot ball of dead bug that won't shut the fuck up.

It has now been 10 days and my ear is still plugged up but I am still waiting for all the gunk to come out.


It has been the most annoying and also the most painful thing that has happened to me in a long time. However, if the ringing goes away, which I am keeping my fingers crossed that it does, it will have been worth it.

Food standoff with a toddler

See that picture in my last post? The one where Annika looks like she's eating?

Well, it's real, but it's not typical.

This is what she usually looks like when she eats.

"I ain't too sure 'bout this here food thang Mama. Me thinks I'd rather just nurse."

Toyin is out of town this weekend and Annika decided to spend the day not eating, mostly nursing. She did eat a handful of trail mix and about half of a banana sometime around noon, then nap-nursed for two hours.

Tonight I spent about an hour trying to cajole Annika into eating dinner so I wouldn't get stuck with her sleeping with my breast in her mouth all night.

By 5 p.m. she was crying over things that she would normally laugh at. Throwing tantrums, whining and just generally fussing. She was hungry. I knew it. But how do I tell her that she will feel so much better if she just eats?

I know it's not that she doesn't like what I'm offering or that she doesn't feel hungry. I can offer her food and she'll refuse, but if Toyin walks in and picks up the fork and offers her a bite, she'll accept it gladly and continue eating. She just prefers to nurse. But at 21 months, nursing just ain't cutting it for her necessary caloric intake.

So tonight after spending the whole day letting her nurse as often as she wanted, and then enduring tantrum after tantrum, I got ready for battle.

"Ok, see here lil gal, you'se gone have ter eat yer dinner," I says to her, setting my body in a cowboy stance and lightly stroking my six-shooter.

The dust swirled around us. She stared me down and let out a yell that would peel the skin offen a wild cat.

"NUSE! MAMA!"

"Ok, lil girly, you kin nuse, but only after yer eat cher dinner," I says.


The screams became more gutteral.

"NUSE MAMA NUSE!"

I stepped forward locking my stance and staring into the sunset. Bedtime was drawing near and this lil cowgirl had not eaten but a stitch of food all day. Something had to give. I set my brow and hardened my stance.

I decided to sweeten the pot and offered her juice and a banana.

In an instant, something changed. I suppose my peace offering did the trick.

She gobbled down the banana and then grabbed her fork and began spooning down mouthfuls of pasta. She guzzled down grape juice.

I couldn't believe it.

The standoff had worked.

And I didn't even have to pull my gun out of the holster.

Having fun with leftovers

The only thing I have in common with Martha Stewart is the first name. I've never been much for cooking, much less anything else crafty around the house, but today, I got a yearning to have something yummy for dinner.

We didn't have much in the house that was easy and Annika seems to be tired of pasta lately, but she's on a cheese kick, which is nice because it's an easy way to some protein in her.

I had a stack of corn tortillas in my refrigerator that I had no idea what I was going to do with. Annika won't eat them and I'm about tortilla'd out and there's about 50 million of them left.

So I went to Allrecipes.com, and went to the spot where you list ingredients you want and don't want and then you get recipes. When I typed in corn tortillas, the second recipe on the list was chicken flautas.

I was pretty geeked about it. It's easy and everything in the recipe are things that are staples in my house, chicken, tortillas, cheese, cumin and salsa.

I whipped these together in less than an hour and felt pretty proud of myself. They were tasty too.

A different kind of healthcare reform needs to happen

Doctors should seriously consider moving in the direction of offering up alternative medicines, mostly to keep people like me from doing permanent damage to themselves out of ignorance and sheer obstinance.

Before I start in on my story, I should mention a couple of things. I'm a complex person. I like to think of myself as a relatively healthy person. I try to eat lots of fruits and vegetables. Ever since I watched Food Inc. I've started buying hormone-free meat. I make an effort to buy organic when the prices aren't more than the price of gold. I take vitamins every day. But as I sit here I've got a 20 ounce bottle of Mountain Dew sitting by the keyboard that I bought mostly because it is being sold for a limited time only, Mountain Dew throwback, Made with Real Sugar. I've also been known to polish off a bag of tortilla chips and salsa along with half a bag of Oreos and call it dinner, although that happens much more rarely since I've become a nursing mother.

Now that I've come out of the closet as a junk food junkie extraordinaire, let me tell you why I am just a little bit concerned that I might be headed on the path toward deafness and yet, I still haven't gone to see a doctor.

I don't have health insurance at the moment, but that really and truly is not the reason I haven't gone to the doctor for an ear infection that developed in my left ear over the weekend.

If I was on my deathbed, I'd shell out of my pocket to get some good drugs and whatnots to make me whole again. (Yes Larissa, the whatnots is just for you.)

But since I've become a mom, I've noticed a trend amongst mothers that makes a ton of sense to me. We are not rushing to the doctor every time our kids get sick because nine times out of 10 they will either over medicate or tell us to wait it out.

Most moms I know are a lot smarter and way more in touch with alternative medicines and home remedies than I am. Oh sure, I put on a good game face. I know lots of good words to throw out when people start talking about things they do to ward off infection. But the truth is I'm just shitting in the wind most of the time when it comes to this stuff and yet, I'm sick and tired of doctors! They shine some fancy looking equipment in your ears and mouth, listen to your back and then tell you that everything's fine and charge you 20 bucks.

Or, they hand you a fistful of papers with a lot of scribbling on it and god knows I wonder how the fuck the pharmacists can tell that I needed 2 four ounce doses of amoxicillin a day when all it looks like to me on the paper is tttt axlln, swoop, swirl and end it with a flourishing signature.

And let me tell you another reason why I am becoming less trusting in the whole medical establishment. I'm not even going to get started on medical interventions in labor because that would take this post in a whole nuther direction. (But that is one factor.)

Pharmacists.

That's right, those damn pharmacists will tell you something completely different than what your doctor told you. Once, when Annika was just under a year, she had a bit of a cold, which I would not have taken her to the doctor for, but Toyin was insistent. As usual, the doctor told me she was fine, but if it made us feel better I could give her some Benadryl.

So I went to the pharmacy and was about to buy it but the label said not for under two, so I asked the pharmacist and he told me that children under two could have seizures on the stuff. Turns out that was happening when people were overdosing their kids accidentally.

Today, I went over to People's Pharmacy to look into buying some garlic mullein ear drops which came highly recommended by a bunch of moms on an online listserv I am part of. When I asked if they carried them, the pharmacist who was assisting me asked me why I wanted them. I told her I was pretty sure I had an ear infection and they had come highly recommended.

"By who?" she inquired eyeing me with suspicion. Maybe she didn't trust me because I had a Bandaid over my ear. I mean, what am I, 3?

"Oh, some moms I know," I answered.

She squinted and scrunched her face up at me.

"Uh, really just some random people," I said uneasily. I mean for gods sake, the woman was wearing a white lab coat, I folded under the pressure! I started to feel like I was selling out. It was all happening so quickly!

"Well," she said. "Are you having any pain, fever or drainage?

"Yes," I mumbled, feeling like I was in the principal's office.

"Why do you have the Bandaid on your ear," she asked, looking me over pityingly and with a touch of scorn.

"Umm, you know, to keep out water, and umm, the wind," I added realizing that it was not raining outside. I wondered how she would look at me if she knew that I had a chunk of raw potato under the Bandaid.

"Would you be interested in taking a tablet?" she asked.

"Well, umm," I stared at the longed-for ear drops that I read wonderful reviews about on an unknown source's website. They must work, right? This guy had a great story about using them on a friend's daughter who turned out to have a bean in her ear.

"Let me take a look at them," I agreed. She convinced me to buy Congaplex tablets after I poured out the whole story of using ear candles, which made a bunch of wax come out and then started to drain and now I have an ear infection. After I told her the story she looked at me with more pity. I felt irritated. After all, I had bought the damn candles at this store.

I suppose the Congaplex tablets aren't so bad. I bought the drops as well since I am a rebel and I hate the establishment. But I think I'll wait a couple of days before using them to see if the tablets work.

My point is, if you can't already tell by this ridiculous story, is that doctors need to start considering other alternatives to antibiotics and decongestants with heavy side effects. I used to run to the doctor every time I got sick and I realized over the years that a lot of the medications I was taking were either overkill, or just gave me other problems that I had to deal with later.

Now, I turn first to Dr. Google.

Second, to my friends.

And third, doctors.

Shouldn't it really be the other way around?

Trial sleepover

This weekend an ear infection snuck up on me and Saturday at 6 p.m., after Annika had spent the day with Toyin, I called him and said I really needed him to attempt keeping her that night. I told him I was in so much pain and felt so crappy that I didn't think I could be a good mother that night.

He was hesitant to try it. He said he thought the plan had always been that would work up to it, but I was insistent. I could not be the nighttime parent tonight.

This wasn't how we had envisioned it. I'm not really sure how we envisioned it, but this was definitely not it. There would have been more planning and we would have talked to Annika about it. Other than that, I have no idea how it would go. Toyin hasn't put Annika to sleep in several months. He wasn't even sure what our routine was anymore.

For instance, he wasn't aware that she didn't really need to nurse to sleep anymore. I still do nurse her to sleep most nights, but occasionally nursing is just a distraction and she falls asleep without it. I imagined that he would do everything I do to get her sleepy, except nurse and then just cuddle her to sleep.

He asked me to bring a couple of things and leave them outside. I brought the stuff he requested along with her favorite books and a teddy bear.

He did not follow my usual routine. He stuck to his own regimen of walking, which is how he put her sleep when she was an infant. At first he drove her for a while. She got sleepy, but didn't fall asleep. Then he walked her around his building to and around the apartment until she fell asleep.

She awoke around 11 p.m. after falling asleep at 9.

He was able to get her back to sleep with more walking, but she awoke again at midnight and cried for 30 minutes before he called me and said he was bringing her home.

By then I had had several hours of uninterrupted sleep dosed up on ibuprofen and Vitamin C and I although I was not 100 percent, I was feeling much better and welcomed her home. She fell asleep after nursing heavily for about 20 minutes.

At that point I had not nursed since the morning and I was pretty engorged, so I was a little relieved to have her home. I guess even a part of me felt some reassurance that it wasn't so easy to stay over at Toyin's. She still needs me. 

This situation snuck up on us and I wonder in amazement that this is the first time in 21 months that I have been unable to care for Annika every single night.

I also wonder how things would go if I was totally incapacitated. She would be fine. Toyin would probably be in worse shape. He was pretty stressed about the whole situation.

So, now, I wonder when and if we should start hard core planning for her first real sleepover. Part of me is so ready for it I can taste an entire night alone in my own bed, able to be loud in the house, able to do whatever I want without worrying that she will wake up and need me.

But the other part of me, the mama bear in me, says, no, she's not ready. We should wait until she's completely ready and even excited at the prospect of spending the night with Daddy.

But that could be another year or more.

I would love to hear and suggestions or ideas for helping us transition Annika to the idea of spending the night at dad's.

Making yoga a priority

I've always had bad posture. When I was a kid my parents were constantly telling me to sit up straight.

As an adult I ignored my poor posture until I had a knee injury and I realized my weak knees were affecting more parts of my body than just my knees. I learned how to stand without locking my knees and pull my chest back so that my back wouldn't feel so much pressure. Even so, I knew I should be doing more to strengthen my body.

When I went through my divorce, 10 years ago, I bought a yoga book and began doing the poses at home. It always helped me feel better, but I could tell that I wasn't getting the full benefit of the stretches.

All of my varying jobs in the past 15 years have been sitting in front of a computer, which means my back developed an (un)healthy habit of eight-hours-a-day-hunched-over typing and staring at a screen.

After Annika was born last year, I spent so much time holding her and nursing that my poor back and shoulders began to stiffen up and I felt like my mass of back and chest muscles were turning to stone, more like rounded marble. Chiropractor sessions and acupuncture helped, but it seemed more like a patch than a cure. I began to feel like I was turning into a hunch-backed old woman. 

For 10 years I've wanted to do yoga. I wanted to do it really well. There is something about the mind body connection of yoga that really draws me to it as a form of exercise.

So why didn't I bother to sign up for a class?

I realized that I haven't ever made self-care a priority. Before I was a mother, when I got stressed out I'd take a sick day, or a vacation and enjoy myself to the point of exhaustion. But now I've realized, as my friend Tareeshia (yes, that's really her name, and no, I did not misspell it) says, being a mother is relentless.

You can't take a sick day. You can't just take off for a weekend or plan a week-long of self-indulgence. Self care has to become a priority and part of your routine. It can't be something you put off.

In my post yesterday, (which was supposed to be about yoga) I wrote about setting priorities and self care. For the past four months my lists of self-care activities have included yoga every time.

Then a friend of mine and her husband opened a yoga studio. I couldn't really give myself any more excuses not to go.

So finally, after 10 years of procrastinating and four months of putting it off, I finally went to a yoga class.

It was fan-fuckingtastic.

Setting priorities is an act of self care

For years I've wanted to take a yoga class. I bought a book and did poses at home. I watched DVDs and did Pilates, which uses yoga moves. But I never took a class.

When I was pregnant, I swore I was going to do pre-natal yoga to prepare my body for labor. But I never got around to it. I was generally too tired to think about it and as the pregnancy wore on I sleep became more and more of a priority.

Speaking of priorities... In November I joined a small group of women for a Personal Renewal Group. To those of you who have known me for many years, yeah, I know, it totally doesn't sound like me at all. Before I had a kid if I'd heard of this sort of thing I probably would have snorted, said something vulgar and made fun of women who did this sort of thing. (I apologize to all the women in my group, I think you are all lovely and strong women.)

We are reading this book called, A Mother's Guide to Self Renewal and we have been going through one chapter a month, learning how to better care for ourselves because as so often happens with moms, we forget that we are people with needs.

So yeah, I was talking about priorities.

I have realized lately that I am prone to some ADD tendencies. I'm pretty sure I don't actually have ADD. But I grew up in an unorganized and often chaotic household, which brings me to my point, lest I get distracted and start babbling like I often do.

This month in the PRG, we talked about setting priorities.

I read the chapter the day before our meeting and when I read it, I felt like the floodgates of knowledge opened up in front of me.

Right.

If you want to get certain things done, you have to put them in order of priority.

Oh, yeah.

An old and dear friend of mine and I used to have this joke, "If you want to get things done, you have to do them." It seems I forgot that lesson somewhere in between getting pregnant, giving birth and becoming known as mommymommymommymommy.

Even though I knew that a lot of my priorities were getting pushed to the wayside, I didn't know exactly why.

It was because I am easily distracted and often I think that if I can't get to it one day I'll do it the next. Then the next day comes and the same thing happens.

Like I said before, I'm easily distracted. I don't think that's going to change. At least, not anytime soon.

Since I started writing this post, I've checked my e-mail. Posted two messages to an online forum. Made a phone call. Gone outside about 15 times to check on a sleeping toddler in the car.

But I always came back to writing this post. Because, as hopefully you, my loyal reader(sss?) will see, this blog is one of my new top priorities.

Heh, heh, heh.

You are probably wondering why I'm smirking.

Yeah. I'm distracted, but I'm going to let you see just how easily I can get out of touch with reality unless I have a good priority list.

I started to write this post about a yoga class I started last night.

So much for priorities. I will do it tomorrow.

I will.

I will.

Unconditional Parenting is one of my new favorite parenting books

One of my new favorite parenting books is Unconditional Parenting, by Alfie Kohn.

After I read this book, I smacked myself in the forehead and went, "Duh!" This is what I've been looking for!!!

You know how most parents want to do things differently than their parents? I knew that I wanted to do some things differently, but until I read Unconditional Parenting, I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly it was.

Now I know.

Unconditional Parenting is based on some scientific research and gives a lot of advice, talks a lot about things like extrinsic vs. intrinsic motivation, Skinnerian theory, rewards and punishments, reinforcement, self-esteem. Oh, and parenting stuff.

But I'm not going to bore you to tears with all that gobbledygook because truthfully, if you're like me and you like reading that kind of gobbledygook, you'll read the book and it explains itself way, way better than I will.

Matter of fact, I need to read it again. And again. And then, again.

Kohn says that in all likelihood, sure, most parents do love their children unconditionally. Nobody is really debating that.

But the most important message I got out of this book is that what matters more than how you feel as a parent, is how your child receives your actions.

Let me say it another way.

What matters absolutely most in parenting is that the child gets the message that you (the parent) love that child unconditionally.

Or as Kohn says it, "It... matters how we love them."

He goes on to say, "The value judgment is, very simply, that children shouldn't have to earn our approval. We ought to love them... 'for no good reason.' Furthermore, what counts is not just that we believe we love them unconditionally, but that they feel loved in that way."

Now, you're probably going, what did your parents do that made you feel not loved unconditionally? Well, in theory, I know logically that my parents love me unconditionally, although, there was that time in my early 20s when my dad got really pissed at me for a few days and disowned me. But he came around quickly. (To be fair, he had a pretty good reason.)

My parents followed standard parenting advice for the time period. Spankings were pretty typical in our household, although, I got way less of them than my older siblings did. My younger brother probably got less. I think I even remember him saying he doesn't remember ever getting spanked. However, he is super mellow. He was an easygoing kid and rarely acted up like I did.

It wasn't that I was going around thinking that if I didn't win first place in track or always make straight A's that my parents would stop loving me.

But did I feel it? I don't know. I guess not. The only metaphor I can come up with is how my ex-husband used to poke fun of me all the time and then go, "I'm just kidding! You know I think you're great."

Kohn even says that you should never have to tell your children that you love them. I don't plan on not saying "I love you," to Annika. But I want to know that she will feel love from me all the time.

There are a ton of valuable points in this book, but one of the other messages that struck me most was the information on extrinsic vs. intrinsic motivators.

Kohn says that conditional parenting teaches children that external factors are more important than internal factors. He also notes that when people are motivated more often by outside forces, they have less joy in life, and they rarely do things they enjoy without an incentive.

That is so me. And I hate it.

Conditional parenting focuses exclusively on behavior and the idea is just to change what children do.

Unconditional parenting asks parents to consider why children do what they do so that you can take their feelings into account. He says that it is not always obvious from behavior what a child is feeling or why they are doing what they are doing.

In Unconditional Parenting, Kohn says that withholding love (also known as time-outs) is tantamount to abuse, children today are controlled too much, punishments don't work, and pushing children to succeed will only take away your child's natural love of learning.

Luckily, Kohn also offers plenty of feedback, including 13 principles to help parents become more unconditional.

If you want to know what they are, you are going to have to read the book. Read it! Go on now. And no, I'm not giving you an incentive. But I think you will like it. That should be incentive enough. But if it isn't, here's an extrinsic motivator, it will make you a better parent. Ok, I gave you an incentive. What can I say, it was the way I was raised.

Being a procrastinator is helping me put off my mental shift about laziness

It is finally happening. Annika has begun to sleep deeper and longer.

I waited and prayed for this day. I spent long and anguishing hours contemplating what I would do once I finally got my evenings back.

No more would I waste my time watching television and Facebook stalking. Becoming a mother had changed me. I knew that I was a changed woman. I finally realized the value of my limited time and when Annika started sleeping longer and deeper, I would enjoy productive evenings. I would write in my blog more and I would research freelance opportunities, send out networking e-mails and look for other opportunities.

Yeah right.

If you are one of my few regular readers you might have noticed that lately I have actually been writing less.

Know what I've been doing?

While you make your three guess, I'll give you a few hints.

I can tell you what Hiro Nakamura has been doing. He's dying from a brain tumor, meanwhile Liz Lemon is getting laid more often and having sex dreams about Jack Donaghy.

That's right. I'm right back to my old habits. 

I've tried to rationalize it, by telling myself I'm tired. I'm recharging. I'm relaxing.

The truth is I'm lazy. I've thought about writing television reviews, but I'm afraid that would totally screw with my finely-tuned balance of laying-around-time-and-putting-things-off.

I've wondered lately if I will ever change. Will I ever manage to focus my attention on things that matter like, writing more, finding a way to efficiently manage household chores, and work from home, all while being a creative and attentive mother?

According to Claire Dunphy, people can only change approximately 15 percent.

If that's all I can aspire to, then I guess I shouldn't add any more shows to my repertoire. But we are in the middle of a season. I think I should wait until the new fall lineup to make any rash decisions.