Initially I was all set to become a neurotic mess over not being able to come up with some witty, fabulous, first post title. Then I remembered I go through life half-assing it, so why get all motivated now.
I’m a single mother (get the stones ready) of a little boy (on second thought, lets just burn me alive now). Now this is where I’m supposed to dote on and on and on about how much I love my son, how he’s the center of my universe and I live for nothing more than to hear every word he utters, watch every move he makes, and characterize every badass things he does as cute and precocious.
Well, I can’t. I love him but he drives me crazy. I love him but sometimes “silence is golden” was penned for him. I love him but every single move I make isn’t for his sake or to bring him everlasting joy. I love him but I don’t feel any guilt when I have to leave him for a few hours (and on rare special occasions a couple of days!).
Thats why I named this blog This Ain’t TV. I’m not Clair Huxtable, June Cleaver, Maggie Seaver or any of the other fictional moms on TiVo’s Top 20 TV Moms list. These fictional depictions of mothers and family will drive a woman crazy.
I mean, come on. Clair had five kids, she was a high-powered attorney and her kids were pretty good, the home was always clean, there were nights out with friends, dinners out at a jazz joint, she always looked beautiful, and she always had enough energy to make us think there could easily be a sixth child the next season.
I, on the other hand, have two piles of clothes on the floor. I have boxes that haven’t been unpacked since we moved a year ago and putting on makeup just isn’t happening on a regular basis- this ain’t tv.
I’m not on a sociology or psychology rant of the dangers of sitcom tv (I love those shows) but it took some time for me to realize I’m not a horrible person, undeserving of my uterus, because I don’t want to record the sounds of my child’s cry and because I consider some of those “cute” questions annoying as hell.
This is not going to be some long “getting to know me” post. You’ll be able to put the pieces together as I post more.
So, welcome to my little home. Just step over those shoes in the doorway and ignore those clean dishes that never seem to make it to the cupboards.
-I’m No Clair (INC)
