Wednesday 9 May 2012

OK.  Let's be clear.  To start:  I am neither a "mom" nor am I any where close to being "savvy" in the traditional sense of the words.  I did, however, run across an internet site called "www.savvymom.com" and read some of their blogs.  I noticed something missing amongst the rejoicing and confusion of being a mother.  What I noticed missing was me.  I am your 40 year old best friend who has never been married/ never had children/ single/ lives with two cats, a bunch of memories of failed relationships and career decisions.  (Hey!  People like me are out there!  We just usually tend to stay home and watch bad televison while eating a Hungry Man dinner with more sodium content than recommended for a month.  Whatevs.  It's tasty going in.)

So.  Back to my point.  You're a "savvy mom."  I truly and honestly bow down to you. I can barely keep myself and two cats alive.  The thought of trying to raise another human being makes me and the cats all shudder.  Every once in a while I wake up pleased with myself that I have managed to keep the three of us in one piece and still breathing.  I then proceed to put some clothes on (usually after a mandated-by-the-cats shower...) and drag my butt to work.  Upon arriving to work my "cheerleading" posse only files grievances over my mismatched socks.  So it goes.  My life is a mess but I managed to find two white socks that came in the same bundle (granted, one had a black edge around the ankle and the other a neon pink.  My rationalization was that the black matched my runners and the pink matched my Swatch watch.  Win-win in my mind.  Apparently not all see it as such.) My life is falling apart and I was happy that I could put two socks of equal material together only to be chastised for the train wreck that I am usually accused of being.

The "sock incident" as it will be referred to from here on in, would be a typical beginning to a typical day in my non-"savvy", non-"mom" life.  The rest of my days usually consist of fielding phone calls from real life savvy moms using up my day minutes on my cell phone trying to find out when it is exactly that I intend on joining their ranks.  I don't have the heart to tell most of them the "sock incident."  (Mostly due to the fact that the mommies have banded together and created a "single woman rehab" and I'm pretty sure I would walk into my house one day and find my mommy friends sitting around crying while being served finger foods and cocktails by the cats.

Everyone just wants me to grow up and be normal.  You know, husband, 2.5 kids, a dog, cat, white picket fence....  That's what they say at least.  ---After they ask to hear some of my "single life" stories.  They say they live vicariously through me (although I'm fairly sure they just want to hear the stories because I am always such a butthead in them that they end up feeling better about themselves and the paths they chose.)

Alright.  So all that being said....  for all of you possible mom-doubters out there in the world:

This blog's for you!

(Just wait.  My buttheadedness only gets better as time goes on.  This, I swear.)

Brandi