Tweets I didnt send

I’m quite prolific over on Twitter. Sending a tweet is a quick way to connect with people, muse out loud and purge my head of random clutter, e-scream to the Universe that my kids STILL ARENT NAPPING. Whatever.

But sometimes I sit down to my computer or pen Tweetdeck on my phone and start to type a tweet and then realize it’s lame/gross/untweetable/requires explanation and I don’t send it.

Thus, Tweets I didn’t send.

Tweets I didnt send

Tweet #1:

Postpartum hair loss is for the birds. Im molting! Molting! #BirdJoke

Somehow, I felt that tweeting the above, while there would be those who would understand my plight, was maybe a waste of characters? An insult to birds? I don’t know. But I didn’t send it.

I lose so much hair every time I lather, rinse, and repeat that it’s a complete miracle to me that I still have hair in my head at all. So much hair is in the fact that I almost took a picture of one of the hairballs and made an entire blog post about I but quickly realized that 1) that was borderline disgusting and 2) yall would unfollow me en masse. So, you’re welcome?

(But seriously? Enough with the hair loss. So. tired. of. it.)

Tweet #2:

Both of my kids are sleeping! Its Mommy Christmas come early!

Anytime I have every publicly bragged about sleep, the Universe has blown the good sleeping up in my face. So as a rule, I’m just not tweeting about it when either of my kids sleeps well. I do, however, reserve the right to use up every avenue of social media to complain when they aren’t sleeping.

Additionally, having the two of them sleep at the same time almost never happens, so there’s nothing to tweet. The above is merely the stuff dreams are made of.

Tweet #3:

You know youre on day four hair when you start to shampoo and theres no lather.  #DryShampooFTW

Now I’m not saying that Tweet #1 and Tweet #3 are related. But they’re probably related. My hair is in a topknot of some sort more days than not and I’m struggling to find time to shower every day. So if I do find time to shower, I’m always gambling on whether or not there’s time to wash my hair too. And a lot of the time I feel like there’s, not time so I don’t wash and then when I eventually wash it’s so dirty I have to wash twice and there’s so much hair I could make a wig. Maybe a doll wig. But a wig.

Yay! Don’t you all want to hug me right now so you can be close to my maybe clean hair?

Tweet #4:

Do you have any idea how hard it is to squirt breastmilk into your babys eye? Freaking hard.

Fun fact: breastmilk is the great cure-all. Is baby got a stuffy nose? Squirt some milk up there. Is baby got a scratch? Put some milk on it. Is baby got a clogged tear duct? Milk in the eye! Except 1) my baby is wiggly and I can’t keep her head still, and 2) my boobs do not cooperate and will neither squirt nor drop on command.

I’m not a leader by nature and am rarely engorged and I thank my lucky stars for that regularly. Except it’d be great to be able to get the milk out when I need it. Like turning on a faucet. Just a little pinch and drip drip drip right into the eye. Work with me, girls! I buy you nice bras!

I have more Tweets I Didn’t Send, but see Tweet #2. Both children are awake (that lasted not at all) and I should maybe not neglect them.

What tweets didn’t YOU send? Or what tweets do you wish had never been sent?…


Simplify, simplify

Today, I made a choice. A hard choice. A really hard choice.  A choice that Ive weighed and waffled on for months.

Today, I quit my job to become a stay at home mom.

I’ve never been good with cramming the quality into only an hour or two like some moms can. I need quantity AND quality. With only an hour or two, I feel compelled to do everything and the overwhelming desire to do everything generally leads to getting nothing done. Not even the quality time.

It’s funny how that works, right? Am I the only one who experiences this? I think I’m probably not.

Since Joshua was small, I’ve lamented how busy our lives are. How our mornings are hectic and scattered and rushed and our afternoons are plagued by daycare pickup, dinner, bath time and bed with little time for anything else. I’ve always hated how little time I actually have to spend with Joshua on any given day.

Even when he makes me absolutely crazy in the hour I do have, I still want more hours. I still need more hours.

Now that Emmas here, I want those hours with her, too. I need those hours with her to keep on healing my soul.

And with two children, having those hours in order to split my attentions between them become even more of a commodity.

So, in order to have those hours, something has to give.

I can’t give up food, sleep, or clean the house since the first two are biological necessities and the last would land us on Hoarders. So, the thing that I can give up, for now, is my career.

I love my family. I love my career. But when it comes down to it, my career will always be there. I can go back.

My children? Their childhoods? These moments? Those are fleeting. I cannot miss these moments. I cannot get them back.

As Nick Carraway said You can’t repeat the past. Once these moments are gone, they’re gone forever.

And yall, I have agonized over this decision. I have wavered and doubted and right now, I still waver and doubt.

Even this morning I stood in the kitchen and looked at Dan and said I just don’t know what to do.

And he said We can do this. Well, make it work.

So, were doing this.…