Balancing Act with Max

I cried the other night. I cried because I had to lower the frame on Max’s crib. He has figured out how to stand, and as you know, he is smart enough to figure out how to climb out too! (My child is extra-ordinary, you know!) Specifically, I bawled because the movable front rail of the crib fell on my feet twice! This led my mind into a downward spiral about how I shouldn’t be using “tools” and this is a “man’s job”. As I made my way around the crib utilizing the hexagon key wrench, I paused my tears. HA! HA! I know what a darn hexagon key wrench is!

I am not going to get all “women’s lib” on you right now, nor am I going to use this forum to “man bash“, but sometimes IT IS HARD!

I am jealous; my sister slept in until 1:00pm on Saturday! Oh, I remember those days. I also remember the days of waking up forty-five minutes before work, and making it on time. Now if I do that, it is a freakishly mad dash around the apartment with Max holding on to my ankles with dear life! Really, how can I wake up late anymore? I have a 10 month-old, red-headed, babbling alarm clock that only speaks consonants.

“Ma, ma, ba, ba, ma-MAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” The babble is followed up by a SCREECH!

“I am up! I am up! It is five in the morning!”

I don’t have a dish washer! I am the automatic, 4-cycled, extremely quiet. . .no! That is my fantasy dish washer. I am the 1-cycle, talking on my blue tooth, soapy dish washer. I take out the trash, I scrub the toilet, oh and I make dinner too!

My legs are hairy. It is summer time, and guess what? I don’t care! I wear a skirt to work almost everyday, and I was sitting in the lounge in the mall that I work at. I was talking to the cute Starbucks guy (too young for me, but fun to flirt with) that creates little frothy hearts in my latte every morning, and he checked out my legs. My hairy legs. There was no embarrassing gasp from my mouth; I continued the conversation. I DON’T HAVE TIME!

My sister noticed them (the one that got to sleep in), and said, “Ewww you need to shave your legs!”

It’s hard to be the bread winner, hexagon key wrench operator, dish washer, diaper changer, toilet scrubber and whatever else I do and YOU do. It doesn’t matter if it is with a partner, or without a partner, it is EXHAUSTING, and we ROCK for doing it!

Oh and the tops of my FEET hurt!

BIO: Amy Morgan has worked in live news, production, public relations and marketing. A "jill of all trades" she has a great passion for photography, creative writing, reading and traveling. Always on the go, her most important job is being Max's mom!

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