Wednesday, March 11, 2009

I'd Rather Play

Monica Geller or Kate Gosselin would not approve. The house needs dusting, the closets need tidying (I'm actually waiting for Husband to do something about the wood and screen stored in Marguerite's room before I organize the closets. I'd do something about it myself, but... I don't want to! We'll see how long I can stand the complete chaos that is our bedroom closet before I take action.), the bathroom needs torching after being doused with alcohol (even if that hadn't been been Husband's province, at this advanced stage of grossness, I still wouldn't attempt to clean it - okay, that's a lie; I did attempt it, but all my stomach could stand to do was scrub off some of the crud and spray Mr. Muscle. Sadly, the thing still won't pass muster, lol... To people who have no appreciation for hyperboles, please understand that I compulsively exaggerate. Please do not report me to social welfare or to the health inspector.)... I was supposed to be leading to a point, but after all the side comments, never mind. Don't you find these little parenthetical inserts annoying? I'll have you know I'm exactly the same heard or read. Been this way forever.
Anyway, to start over (and this is the point I was leading to - there goes the insert again), instead of cleaning more thoroughly (I'm not a complete and utter slob, I do some superficial charing, enough to keep the place free of vermin), I play. With Marguerite, I mean. I definitely prefer that to cleaning, lol.
Speaking of slacking and doing things more fun, yesterday we had an impromptu playdate here in our apartment. Three children (all older than Marguerite - aged 3, 5 and 6) from the eighth floor followed us down from our post-lunch rounds to play with Marguerite (or Marguerite's toys, lol). I think they found me - a mom who was keeping an eye on them as well as playing with them - quite an alien concept. The six-year-old asked me, "Why don't you get a
yaya (nanny) for Marguerite?" and I answered, "Because I want to take care of her myself." I could have elaborated, but I might have ended up implying something that I didn't mean, so I kept it simple, yet truthful. Sometimes I do wonder about going back to work (esp since the extra income would give us more comfort), but the idea of somebody else being Marguerite's primary caregiver (and influence) just stops my heart cold. I'm not saying that mothers who work outside the home are not doing as much when it comes to raising their children, but I have a very concrete idea of what kind of life and relationship I want for my daughter and myself and being a SAHM was the choice I had to make.

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