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After learning that my new employer wasn’t willing to give me two unpaid weeks off from work, I signed my two-week notice. Yes, that’s right. I asked for 2 whole weeks. Why? Because childbirth really isn’t all that hard, and Native Americans used to give birth in a corn field before hoisting the baby into a buffalo skin backpack and continuing their work. I could have done that. Were they willing to give me two weeks off and hold my job? No. After contacting the HR department I am told that they could have given me the time off, but it was my supervisor’s decision. I guess I caught her on a bad day.

So, I sucked it up, and planned on making the best of my last two weeks at work. Get in one last good paycheck. Only, due to the East Coast Blizzard there really aren’t that many international visitors coming to the US, and most of the Washington offices are closed. What this means for me? Work shortage. I’ve received a call for the past two days saying, “This is Bobby Jo from (insert company name here). I wanted to call to let you know we are having a work shortage today, and you won’t need to report to work.” Normally, I would jump for joy at this type of phone call, but now? Now I’m weeks away from a newborn who has very few 0-3 month outfits. Also, I need some other baby necessities. You know, a Diaper Genie!

What can I say? The suckage of late is suffocating me.

In good news, I go to the doc tomorrow, and hopefully since I was 1cm dilated last week I will be progressing by tomorrow. This is my second child, you know, and they say after the first one you can kind of just spit ’em out like popcorn kernels. I can only hope.

The other point of this post: What the fuck has happened to blogging? Off and on for 7 years I have had various online journals and blogs, and back in the ‘good ol’ days’ people blogged for the hell of it. They blogged to speak their mind. To keep in touch with friends. To make new friends. Just to fucking do it. Now in order to be a real blogger you have to involve yourself in some type of corporate nonsense? You should be in the process of writing a book? You are crap if you don’t make the Top 50 Bloggers list? You need to speak at conferences and meet-ups? I mean really, just because you blog you are entitled to have a book published? Or, if not a novel you have to at least do freelance. Check. Dooce did it, and now we think we all can and should. If this be the case then I may never grow up and be a real blogger.

There are other ways of making money, people.

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I haz a blog, again.

You may remember me from The Atomic Mommy, but then again you probably don’t. Anyway, I’ve decided to grace the internet with my presence yet again, and so whilst watching The History Channel I heard of a term called “Victory Girl.” Which is what I’ve now used for my blogging name. Go look it up, you’re bound to either laugh or roll your eyes.

So, I have this kid. He’s now five years old, and he’s 100% boy. As if that weren’t enough I have another 100% planning his escape from my loins in approximately 7 weeks. This, my friends, is him:

The New Kid on the Block

Am I ready for another boy? HELL NO. I have been dreaming and seeing pink for the past 7 1/2 months, and hoping and praying that the ultrasound technician was wrong the first time, but when I went back for my 31 week ultrasound there it was in all it’s glory : the infamous WINKY. So, yes, he really is a boy. I am doomed to a life of Spiderman and Hot Wheels, without any promise of Barbie dolls in my future. At least I hope not with two boys.

Me & The First Born

Thus is my life. There are good days, and there are days where I want to take some Valium and pull my hair out. I guess that is motherhood for ya. Truth be known I am far from your average mom. I don’t breastfeed. I don’t cook organically, and matter of factly I don’t cook at all. Thank God there is The Man for that. I let my son play video games that he probably shouldn’t be playing at 5 years old, and he knows the lyrics to songs that most 16 year olds are listening to. Am I a bad mother? I don’t think so, but you may. I feed him. I bathe him. I try my best to make his life enjoyable, and I LOVE him. I will do the same for #2.

I do parent, just in my own way.

I live in an apartment that is way too small for me, The Man, #1, and the cat.. so I can only imagine the suffocating feeling that will emerge once #2 also needs his space here. We have got to get out of here A.S.A.P.

I must say that I am blessed. I am lucky to have a man that loves me and a child that adores me. I am praying for a healthy birth for #2, and a year supply of diapers at my baby shower.

I’m just me, and I’m back to blogging once again.

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