I'm Becky Sherrick Harks, better known as Aunt Becky, and you'll normally find me blathering on my own blog, Mommy Wants Vodka. But I'm here at The Stir to secure Total World Domination, er, discuss how I'm (barely) surviving parenthood.
We've all been through that kind of breakup or divorce.
Y'know, the one that leaves us weak in the knees, gasping for air, and wondering how it all went so wrong. The one that leaves our hearts breaking, wondering how we are going to get through the next five minutes, let alone next five years.
Yeah. That breakup. The one where you are beyond crushed because you are still very much in love with your soon-to-be ex -- and you don't want the relationship to end.
So if that's how you feel, is it wise to stay friends? How do you move on? How do you keep those romantic feelings at bay?
When I found out that my daughter, was, in fact, a daughter (I believe the tech said something about a "cheeseburger" when describing my fetus, but I'm not entirely positive about that), I began to cry. Tears of joy.
See, I'd always expected I'd be the mother of three sons, which I'd accepted as my lot in life. I love my sons like I love butter and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Not even a yacht.
But to find out that I was going to be the mother of a daughter? Me? With a daughter? I was beyond thrilled. And terrified.
With Valentine's Day here already, I know many women who are anxiously awaiting a little tiny box full of sparkly doo-dads and a dinner fit for a queen. I know even MORE women who are looking forward to all that hullabaloo PLUS a romp in the sheets.
Here are some tips for getting down and dirty on a holiday that celebrates, what else? LOVE.
Let's get crack-a-lackin' with some tips to make your Valentine's Day sizzle.
I knew a girl once who, only semi-bitterly, referred to Valentine's Day as "Singles' Awareness Day."
Newly engaged, I merely laughed at the notion -- the most fun I'd had on Valentine's Day was during my seahorse period. My girlfriends and I, who all happened to be single at the time, by some miracle of luck, went out and celebrated together.
It was the best Valentine's Day ever.
This one, though, which is looming over me like a particularly cheerful cloud, is going to be a bit ... different.
I'd been prepared for the sleepless nights and the colic and the screaming and the horrifying diaper changes. What I hadn't been prepared for was the fact that I'd feel like absolute dog shit every time I didn't measure up to my impossibly high standards as "Parent of the Year."
Parental guilt at its finest: you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.