Notes from the Blue House

Is there anything worse than rejection? OK, maybe a frontal lobotomy but I swear that's all. Rejection is a tough pill to swallow. Agreed? As if rejection in and of itself isn't sucktacular enough,  it's felt much more sharply when it comes from someone you adore. Didn't get asked to dinner with friends? Crappy. Didn't get the dream job? Terrible. Asked someone out and got the cold shoulder? Awkward. Tried to hug your kid and he smacked you in the face? Well, I can assure you that the latter is the worst. Simon's been putting me through the ringer since I've gone back to work. If he was a cat, he'd have pissed in my shoes by now. He's blatantly, and without apology, favouring Tim. When he's fallen down and scraped his knee, he'll push me away and bury his face in Tim's lap to cry. When Tim and Owen ducked out this evening for a quick errand, Simon clutched his little shoes and sobbed at the door; devastated to be left behind. I crouch...

I hate change. Once I've settled into a comfortable routine, I avoid change like I avoid dental work. You can imagine how comfortable my routine had become over the past 16 months of being a stay-at-home mom. Ya, so what I'm still in pajamas at 4pm? Wanna fight about it? Sure, there were days that I was touched out, talked out, tuckered out and glancing around for the nearest escape from my kids. Those days were rare, though. Truthfully, I loved being at home. I accomplished things around my house. I watched Dr. Phil. I wore  yoga pants. I made lunch dates with people I like. Please don't rant at me about how hard it is to be a stay-at-home mom, I get it. It's not for sissies but it had it's undeniable perks and I loved the whole shebang. Now, the money's run out. I knew in July that September, and my return to work, was looming but I decided that if I didn't think about it, it wouldn't be true. I ignored it in August too, skipping through life like ...