Wednesday, July 06, 2005


My third child

Lately, I have taken to referring to blog as my third child. At first, it was merely a bit of a jest, a way to illustrate how much blog has ingratiated itself into my life. Then I started to think about it, and have come to the realization that there are more similarities between blog and my boys than I would have expected.

For example, I have no idea what I did with all my spare time before the boys came along. Ditto blog. Both are very needy and I must pay attention to blog at least every day or so. Ditto boys.

Beloved is just a little bit mystified by my obsession with blog, and often mystified by the strange behaviour of the boys. (Inasmuch as running around the house with a bucket on your head hollering the theme to Blue's Clues is strange behaviour.)(It's the boys who do that. Not blog. Blog has a bit more sense than the boys.)

When they are particularly adorable, I will sit back with a mixture of wonder and satisfaction and think to myself, "I made them!" And I could be talking about either blog or boys.

I find the lamest excuses to work anecdotes about the boys into conversations. I don't need much prompting to talk about blog either.

Both boys and blog have done a lot of damage to my previously svelte and girlish figure. (I dimly remember a time when I used to go for walks on my lunch hour.)

Blog and boys have both introduced me to a world of people I never would have met otherwise, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Both are an endless source of temptation to acquire the latest gadgets and do-haws. Digital camera, notebook computer, life-sized ride-on Thomas the Tank Engine. No, it's not in the budget, but think how happy it will make {the boys/blog}.

Although both blog and boys are for the most part very fulfilling, they can at times cause me an inordinate amount of stress. I spend a lot of time lying in bed at 3 am wondering about their future and hoping I am doing right by them. (And by 'them' I mean the boys. And blog.)

It's fun to dress both blog and boys up in new outfits, and bask in the glow of admiration by proxy. Although I have yet to find a way to coordinate their outfits. (Hmmm, maybe some 'Mothership' logo Ts for the boys...?)

Despite the fact that I try very hard to impose some discipline and direction, the boys and blog are willful creatures and insist on having a mind of their own.

My boss, although extremely patient and understanding, would probably prefer that I spent just a little bit more of my work day focused on something other than the boys. Or blog.

Like any parent, all I want is for them to grow up to be fine upstanding citizens, settle down near by and provide me with oodles of grandbabies/blogs to keep me company in my old age.