Article, blog post, my excuses

I'm going to throw a lot at you, for real. Ready?

Bam!
There's an article for you from HuffPost Parents, about things parents should try to avoid saying to non-parents.



Though I agree with the author for the most part (I stopped reading thoroughly and began skimming when I saw him typing in all caps, that pretty much ruins credibility for me), I have to say that parents put in time and work that non-parents just don't know about.

Bam!
There's a blog post from my old friend Sara Stock, I mean Sara Rusek, written from the throes of end-of-third-trimester pregnancy. Now this woman is a trooper, and officially knows of work that's harder than what I put in, simply by the numbers.

I've been telling myself that I'm done with two kids, but when I think of how few aunts and uncles (1) the girls have, I'm thinking it would be nice to sort of start that over again, and start an army.

But then, that line of thinking is kind of faulty, because every life is beautiful, complete in and of itself no matter what kind of family the person has or does not have. You make family from those around you if not by blood. And I mean, give me the economy that wants to throw money and a house at me, some stability, and then I'll grow my empire.

I'm conflicted, obviously, but as with every problem, I always have to come back to the same answer—I can't afford it right now. My career absolutely has to take off. Our family needs to start bringing money in, and it's kind of stressful.

All you responsible, money-making parents are going to admonish me for this, but I've been taking a not-in-school-anymore holiday the past few... months. After I graduated last spring with my first ever bachelor's degree with my very own major and minor, after at least eight years of undergraduate study, possibly nine, it felt good to be done.

So I had to take some time off. From life. Parenting and student-ing really took it out of me. I was scarred and I needed to heal, in a word.

Last weekend I had the ultimate cap to it, though. Two metal shows, two nights in a row. Two mosh pits. Two nights of drinking and getting rowdy. Deafheaven and Black Breath were my favorites. I have a scar on my chest to remind me. I slept little. I partied like a stupid teenager, or like a dad trying to escape his life and/or get out to Capitol Hill in Seattle with like-minded metalheads and share beautiful moments of hardcore brutality and black metal. I ran into just about every metal friend I have in town, too. Even a guy I needed to talk to since we broke up from our last band on my 30th birthday. Heavy shit got lifted off our shoulders, but I also was reminded why we don't work well together.

Monday, yesterday, was my day to heal. Megan let me kind of slack off. She has been so good to me during my vacation. So good.

So you know what I'm going to do now? Not edit this post, take my girls to the park, and then start the job search.

Looking in the writing, social media, marketing and public relations fields.

How dare I make them sit on the bench next to me for a picture!