i bristle every time that i see someone refer to sarah palin’s husband as unemployed.

he’s a part-time commercial fisherman and a full-time stay-at-home father.

it is one thing to question: her choice to get pregnant at 45; her decision to carry the pregnancy to term after finding out the child had down’s syndrome; her choice to make not one but several risky decisions about the safety of the baby after her water broke; the fact that she returned to work only three days after giving birth; accepting a vice presidential nomination when she has an infant. all of these make me uncomfortable, too.

but the fact that by calling sarah palin’s husband unemployed, people are essentially saying that it would look better (or be better?) if he had a full-time job and their children were in daycare makes me really uncomfortable. shouldn’t we be lauding their decision to care for their children themselves? every two income family with young children that i know of is that way because the parents cannot financially swing for one parent to stay at home. if they can, shouldn’t they commended for that?

annoying thing about moving: trying to finish off your freezer, pantry, and bulk foods so as not to waste food.

awesome thing about moving: finishing off your liquor cabinet. hello hazelnut kahlua in my morning coffee.

okay, here is the straight shit, for when you’re trying to figure out if you’re ready to have kids, soon or ever.

yes! it’s the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.

yes! i love him more than i’ve loved anyone before in my life.

but the love and happiness aren’t the only emotions that are cranked way up since having milo. every emotion related to him is hypercharged.

so i have work deadlines right now that mean i’m on the computer, needing quiet and concentration for 6-10 hours a day for the past week and a half, weekends included. before milo, that would have meant that i was: stressed out, tired, guilty that i can’t spend more time with matt, frustrated by how messy our home was getting because i couldn’t help tidy up or clean, short-tempered because i wasn’t getting enough downtime, more guilty because all of this made me not as pleasant to be around.

before milo, i would have put all of the above at an 8 on a suck scale of 1-10.

now i would put it at a 5 or 6.

an 8 is when i leave the room and milo bursts into tears.

a 9 is when milo is nursing and stops really eating and gets distracted and i have to immediately hand him off to matt so that i can finish working and milo starts to cry because he wants our tender post-nursing snuggles and i can’t give it to him or my 8 hour workday will become an 11 hour workday.

a 10 is when, on top of all this, i feel obscenely guilty because matt is taking care of our son through all of this, and asks several times a day: “how much work do you have left today?”

what i’m saying here is that when you have kids, the good becomes great and the great becomes blissful, but the bad becomes FUCKING TORTURE.

holy! moly!

something that i really enjoy about the last few weeks living somewhere is trying to go through the teas/tisanes, bulk goods, and freezer items.