Tag Archives: ambivalence

My Buddy

22 Jan

Whine:  Bird Strikes. As if I didn’t have enough things to worry about. By the way, did anyone else picture an Alfred Hitchcock-like attack when they first heard that term?

Cheese: The Miracle on the Hudson.  Thankfully there are people out there whose job it is to throw frozen turkeys into jet engines just to see what happens.


I’m feeling some ambivalence about my role in life right now. I simultaneously feel blessed to have such gorgeous, delightful children and also desperately WANT THEM TO LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!

I love being a stay-at-home mom; I can’t believe I get to do it.  But I really wish I could sometimes, just occasionally get. something. done. Seriously. I spend much of my time in an inner dialogue (not monologue, mind you, there’s lots of voices up there) wondering why I never get to cross anything much more than “Get slobbered on” off my to-do list.  I can’t seem to figure it out.

So anyway, both my kids were supposed to be away today and, well, I had locked my keys in my car and Lil’ Sis couldn’t go with Grandma because the car seat was locked inside the car along with my keys and I saw all my dreams for a productive and AWESOME day go up into flames and I almost cried. And that’s when it dawned on me: I don’t get anything done because I’m never alone. Big Sis goes to preschool or to Grandma’s house on a regular basis, but Lil’ Sis, she’s always with me.

Even on the days she does decide to grace me with a decent nap, by the time I get into the shower and throw on some clothes, I’ve used up all my “free” time on basic hygeine, and elective pursuits such as makeup application or meal preparation are just pipe dreams.

Throughout the course of a day, I carry Lil’ Sis around in a sling on my hip, or let her crawl around after me as I make my way through the house. Her ever-presence in my life has led me to dub her “My Buddy.” And if you were a child in the 80s (or a parent of such a child) this may bring back memories for you. “My Buddy” was a doll for boys. Yes, you need to admit it, boys, it was a doll. One of my friends (who shall remain nameless) said her husband had one. Hee hee. Even if you only have a faint memory of My Buddy, I’m sure you remember the theme song:

My Buddy, My Buddy, My Buddy, My Buddy

Wherever I go, he goes

My Buddy, My Buddy

My Buddy and Me


So I’ve been singing this song all day to my Little Buddy because wherever I go . . . she goes. The irony of it is, I spend much of my day trying to figure out how to get around my Buddy, how to get things done in spite of her, but really, truly, deeply, I wouldn’t give this up if you paid me. I really wouldn’t. I might really, really, really, really, really need a break from her sometimes, but I wouldn’t give it up. And as much as I moan and complain, I actually kinda like toting her around like some sort of extra appendage. Perhaps in my next life I’ll be a kangaroo.