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In the movie Lost in Translation there is a scene in which Bill Murray's character explains that, upon having your first child, "your life as you know it is gone...never to return." The movie has been one of my favorites for years. I just wish that I had known he meant my life.

In early 2010, I gave birth to the world's most perfect child. (Is there a parent who doesn't think his/her child is the world's most perfect?) In addition to being beautiful, he is brilliant and sweet and funny and hands-down the best thing that will ever happen to me. This kid is my entire world. I had somehow suspected through most of my life that he would be, which is why I fought very hard to have him. But about the post-childbirth apocalypse, I had absolutely no clue.

To say things have changed would be misleading. EVERYTHING has changed. Most of it has been good--some not so great--but everything is without a doubt different. And now the world changes once again. My little family and I find ourselves journeying from the big city to beautiful, calm Montana. Will the change be for the better? As with anything, the answer is sometimes "yes," sometimes "no," and always sought with massive quantities of hope. Come with me as I navigate the roads from fast-paced, big-city lawyer to Montana Momhood. Is there a line that can be walked? We'll see. But I can guarantee, at a minimum, it will be an adventurous road trip....

Friday, March 11, 2011

I frequently wish I knew what was going on inside my child's head.  Typically this is for entertainment value.  For example, when he is standing in the middle of the room, looking at the ceiling, and laughs hysterically before running away, I would love to know what was so funny.  Don't get me wrong--I typically think things are wholly amusing that aren't (such as this blog).  But I would love to get in on the baby's joke once in a while.

There are other reasons, however, for which I would love to know what he's thinking.  In particular, it would really be fantastic to know whether I have already scarred him for life.  This is only a half-joke.  I, as you know, am a working parent.  In addition to being gone for a significant part of the weekday, I sometimes enjoy doing grown-up things such as attending a Janet Jackson concert (oh, how I wish I were kidding).  These days when I walk out the door, he runs to the door and throws a fit.  This typiaclly results in me feeling horribly guilty and strangely thrilled at the same time.  I hate that he's sad and love that he actually likes me!  The "thrilled" lasts approximately 1 minute, however, and the guilt becomes unbearable.  The books and magazines all say that kids need space from their parents, and that it's good for them to see you out and that it's good for you before you go insane, blah, blah, blah.  But I would absolutely love to know that they're not making this s*&t up just to make parents feel better.

Could someone please invent a way for this to happen?  Does anyone else think the guilt is going to consume you on a daily basis?

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