Classroom Haiku

Oh, little children
Why do you like Hot Cheetos
The world is orange

Little girl in class
You say “You look really weird”
I lack mascara

Classroom grammar book
I’m not sure you understand
What synonym means

Please, no more Red Bull
Or Monster Energy Drinks
Your heart will explode

You ask me my age
You ask if I am eighty
Yes, I say, I am

Don’t pick your nose here
Even though I am reading
I can still see you

Are mommy blogs the new chick lit?

I have always been big on guilty pleasures. I just feel that life is hard enough as it is, and everyone should be able to have that one thing that helps them escape for a little while.

When I was in high school, my roommate (oh, boarding school) and I were obsessed with chick lit. The running joke was that if it had been published by Red Dress Ink*, we had it on our bookshelf. I probably should have been studying, but what can I say? I loved those books about new shoes, flashy jobs, messy relationships and trife dialogue (for a perfect synopsis of how every single book went, read this). They were fun and easy, a welcome break from worrying about boyfriends (or complete lack thereof), where I'd go to college, what I'd wear to the dance...etc.

These days, I'm not so into the fluff books. Maybe it's because my life has become to similar to those in the books (Um, twenty something? Check. First jobs? Check. Piles of clothing I can't afford? Check), or maybe I just got tierd of reading the same story over and over again.

But I've found a new guilty pleasure.

Behold, the mommy blogs.

All Things In Moddy
Dave and Brit Plus One
Kelly's Korner
Babbling Abby

I regularly read about ten of these, about adorable women (mostly from the South) with their adorable children (mostly under three) and what it's like to be a mommy. I really can't get enough. I'm sure these women all have problems and issues all their own, but all I can see are the cute kiddies and great clothes.

Mommy blogs are the new chick lit.

Now, I realize that it might be a little creepy that I am admitting that I read them so regularly, but I've decided to share because these little blogs really do give me a second or two in my day when I can just escape from whatever I'm doing and plug into another life.

And I'm not ashamed to admit it.




*Editor's Note: I had NO idea that Red Dress was a division of Harlequin, arguably "the" name in trashy, grocery store bodice rippers, until I decided to link them. This is why they're called guilty pleasures, people. I feel the shame, even years later.

Attention span of a goldfish.

It's a widely accepted fact that Southern B and I have the cutest dogs in the world. I've always been very thankful that Henry's a boy and Abby's a girl, so we wouldn't have to compete between who has the cutest boy/girl in the world. They're the cutest gender duo, and that works well for their mama's egos.

But, as in real life, the cuter you are, the more high maintenance you tend to be... at least with Abby. That pup wants all of my attention, all the time. Part of it may be that she's just a year old and still has lots of energy to burn, but I tend to believe that she has taken after me, and will never grow out of it. Girlfriend just wants love and attention, and can I fault her for that?

Abby's also very easily distracted, which has it's pros and cons. Pro? She will always drop whatever she has if she sees a plush toy with a squeaker. Con? She will NOT do her business outside if she sees a child.

ANY child. And while it was cute for a while, my mornings are getting increasingly more difficult as more and more children are walking to school in the nice weather.

Part of the issue is that Abby's dog park is literally right in front of an elementary school (good planning Town, I bet there's never been a single issue with children stepping in something right before they go into a crowded, non-airconditioned room in the spring). I'll frantically rush doing my makeup to try to get her there before 8:00, which appears to be the time most kids run into class, but sometimes it just can't be done. And those mornings are the worst.

At first she won't notice them, and start sniffing around for the best possible place to do whatever it is she's planning to do. Sometimes, she'll even be halfway through finishing up when all the sudden, she'll spot one. A small boy, skipping jauntily, perhaps with a ball under his arm.

BAM. She'll start running towards him, full speed, leash and collar around her neck forgotten. I'll try to catch up, but I'm never fast enough, and she'll end up flying in the air and thrown about as she reaches the end of her leash, and I reach the end of my proverbial rope. The child will laugh, and continue moving towards class, and Abby will desperately try to follow him into the building.

I'll wait a few more seconds in vain, but once she's seen that first kid, she's not going to do anything. So, I'll drag her back to my apartment and spend the rest of the day praying she doesn't decide to finish what she started in my new shoes.

But she looks like this:

So I keep trying to get her out for a morning walk, and hope that school will be canceled tomorrow.