YOU, My Friends, "Get It"

I said to an acquaintance, "I wish this kid we are trying to make would just hurry up and get here. I've really come to despise the little brat." Blank stare. Mixed with horrified shock, and just a dash of "no wonder you're barren" thrown in for good measure. She had no concept that, this was my way protecting myself; cocooning my heartache in sarcasm. YOU know that I only say that, because laughter is more therapeutic than tears. YOU know that I already love the little "brat" more than myself. YOU know that when I say, "Dogs are better than kids because I can tie them to a tree in the back yard and go away for the weekend." That, first of all, I would never tie my dog to a tree, and I always get a pet sitter. Secondly, I yearn to be "saddled" with the "burden" of not being able to just get up and go and third, if the way I dote on my doggies is any indication of how I will be as a mom, then I will be nominated as PTA parent of the year, long about 2012. OK, I am done venting. Thank YOU.

Quick "Sean Story" then I have to get off the internet because, I got in a little bit of trouble for my internet usage. Well, more because because of said internet usage, they found 700 Spyware systems in our confidential police "intra-net." Anyway, I thought of the perfect way to convince Sean that police are better than firemen, (when my husband saw him dressed as a fireman for Halloween, he about choked). I took him to my job and an officer showed him all the different police cars and what they could do. And, yes he did like the neat flashing lights, but do you know what he really, really liked? Dispatch! He loved my job. Not only could we not tear him away from the radio console, where he would "talk" to the officers, we had to come back later, for more. I told him he could touch any of the buttons, (there are about fifty), except the red ones, they transmit over the air. When the officers would talk, I told him to say "Ten four" which he loved because he would often hear them say "Ten four" back and he thought they were talking to him. The microphone is on a long stalk and it creaks really loud when you move it up or down to adjust for you height. He looooved that. Finally his mom and I convinced him that we had errands to run nearby, but he kept insisting, "I have to go to work, at Rebeccas job. Come on, we need to go back, I have to go to work." So we returned and he "spoke" some more on the radio. Of course, I was delighted that he liked my job. I probably mentioned before, I have a closet FULL of police toys. They are a lot harder to find than you think. I have, police toys, Marine Corps toys and Mechanic toys so, some day I can say, "Look Liam/Shannyn, this is what Daddy does (or did)." I didn't have anything, for what Mommy did/does. I do have a sign language Barbie so that is cool, but unless I buy a doll, put bags under her eyes, friz out her hair, draw blisters on her feet and dress her in an unflattering uniform, I will not be able to say, "Look Liam/Shannyn, this was what Mommy used to be. What is this, you ask? Why it's Under-paid, Overworked Retail Barbie. Go ahead, yell at her, apparently it will make you feel better." Recently I found a Mobil toys Police Department set, which is soooooo cool to me because it has a police dispatcher center in it. Finally something I can show the kid, and be proud of. And the point to this whole story is that, until I saw Sean sitting there, mesmerized at the radio console, I really never thought my future kids would be interested in what Mommy does. I really thought Daddy would be there on career day and Daddy would be the one whose job was "cool." What can I say, it was really great. Now if the little brat would just hurry up and get here so I can show him/her...