Girlie Giggles

". . . but I don't take money, just girlie giggles."

"Huh?"

"You have to giggle like a girl."

"And if we should refuse?"

"Looks like you don't have much of a choice."

Bizarre Little Quote from Thumb Wars

So, this is my blog about parenthood. Yes, I call her the little freeloader, and then my husband comments that she does pay us . . . just in girlie giggles. I should have expected this. And I can't write about art and cinema all the time, so here we go.

As I said, I really should have expected parenthood to be exactly what it seemed like for my friends and family who took the plunge before I did. What can I say? I'm so different from them that I didn't imagine that my experience with being a mother could mirror theirs at all. Well, I'm an idiot. Not that I regret having my darling child, that's not what it is. There are just a lot of sacrifices that I wasn't really aware of. I should have been aware of them, but in my stubborness, I always just said that I'd deal with it. I'm sort of a tough broad, so one would think that I could tackle a sobbing child with the same energy that I extend to all my other endevours. Unfortunately, energy isn't really what's required, and that's where I run into my snags.

I need to be kind, thoughtful, generous, patient, and longsuffering. Wow! I need to be in love. At least that's what it looks like to me. Hmmm . . . ? In love? I need to be a 'loving' person when I have concentrated all my efforts over the past few years to being a 'creative' person, to being an 'intelligent' person, to being a 'hardworking' person.

I'm sure some people who know me personally will have heard me say this next part before, but it truly describes exactly how I feel. I was a little catapillar when I was pregnant, and then I went into the cacoon (labour) to come out a butterfly (a wonderful mother), but in reality I came out of the cacoon and was still a catapillar. I feel totally jipped. But why would labour or pregnancy really prepare you to take care of another person? I was being naive.

Now, I feel like I'm a little snail and I've been pulled from my little shell that I spent so long building (the shell being the person I've tried hard to be; creative, intelligent, hardworking), just to learn that not only do I need to build a new shell from scratch, but build one that will fit everyone in my little family (why do I liken everything to shells? I don't really know, lately I've been liking the sea). Anyway, the adaption to my new role is definitely challenging.

Can I take it?

It'll be hard.

I have to.

I must.

She's depending on me.

And even though she's little. I know she loves me. And little children are better at loving than anyone. So, I'll come through for her, and show her how to be resourceful, quick-witted, and basically a complete head-turner. Who knows, I might actually turn out to be a pretty good mom.