Lessons of the Ah-Goo

...and our tired and disgruntled blogger breaks down and confesses that the italics section of her blog is getting harder and harder to write...

Pandora Music Selection of the Day: Tony Bennett Radio! Go baby go!

So according to the news on CBC last week, the results are in from a Montreal study, and it appears money does indeed buy happiness. This is a blow to me as I mark the six month mark of my year-long, paid maternity leave (I love you Jean Chretien, I don't care what everyone else says...) because I have for some time now seriously considered getting down on my hands and knees and begging my principal to allow me to go back only part time next year. (Actually, I'll probably have to do a full nose-to-floor grovelling, he's a very short man, but anyway.) There would be a number of disadvantages to me doing this, the four most obvious being:
1. We would be poor.
2. Holy crap, would we be poor.
3. Bean dinners every day of the week, except Sundays. On the Day of Rest, we just won't eat.
4. Bean dinners cause cracks in the relationship between That Guy and me for reasons that I hope are apparent and do not need to delve into. (I told him just this morning that if he were to ever write an autobiography it should be entitled The Contents of My Bowels... did I say CRACKS in the relationship, I meant whole scale RUPTURES....) (ahhahahahah, ruptures, get it?)
5. Oh my God.

The obvious advantage to me being home in the afternoons next year would be the time I'd spend with m'babies, time I will never, ever, ever get back again. Little Miss High Intensity was in Daycare twice a week from the time she was one year old, That Guy was with her twice a week, and my mom took care of her on the remaining weekday. I got the weekends and a sad little three hours a night, after which we would both pass out together at about seven o'clock. (I'm an Early Bird, not a Night Owl.) Next year she will be in Kindergarden, which means it's our last chance to spend at least part of each day together. And of course Little Miss No Intensity will be so cute next year, learning to talk, etc., etc., how can I miss that? And the reality is, you don't really need that much money to live pretty well when kids are young. Their clothes can come from thrift stores, and it's not like I would want to take expensive vacations with them right now anyway. Our mortgage is pretty modest, because, well, you know the old real estate adage "buy the crappiest house on the best street"? We did the opposite, and bought a real charmer on a street about five blocks away from where all the city's murders occur. Huzzah! My point is that it's not like we would starve or they would foreclose on our home or anything like that if I went part time. But our income would indeed be severely decreased, and according to that damn Montreal study that means our happiness would be compromised.

You know what? I don't believe it. Incidently, Little Miss H.I. just walked in and she wants to type a few words so here goes:


123mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Wow, that should be a recipe title or something. I like it. Next year when I'm back at work and make one of those snappy-fab bean surprise dinners, that's what I'm gonna call it. And when everyone complains, I'll say, "look, it's gotta be good, it's got mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm in the title. So piss off." Ha! Problem solved.

We get old H.I.'s first report card ever tomorrow. I have no clue what the teacher will say about her. I would think at this age the report will concentrate on whether she is able to do everything four year olds are supposed to do. I remember being freaked out a bit when she was six months or so because that stupid What to Expect book said she should be saying "ah-goo" or something equally ridiculous and she wasn't. I thought "ohm'god she's not gonna learn to talk properly! She must be autistic or something!" In retrospect, I can see how incredibly dumb I was, but she was my first kid and so I was on hyper-alert for signs of her intelligence, or lack thereof. (Oh COME ON! You KNOW you did that too!) Now, of course, she never stops talking. Lesson learned? The experts are full of .... diaper material. So! I WILL go back to work part time next year, money be damned! Incidently, I have no clue where Miss No Intensity should be right now, developmentally speaking. I gave away the book and never think about it. She's cute and smiley and healthy and that's all I care about. Really. No, REALLY. Ok, ok, so she's not saying Ah-goo either....