If you want to feel better about yourself, you should read The Village Voice personals section. Ashley and I did this a few weeks ago while making lentil soup. I have rarely been so disturbed. Our favorite ad title began “TOURRETS UNDER CONTROL”. It went downhill from there, let me tell you what.

I took Gabriel to the playground today in order to obey his father’s wishes that he get some “air”. I was completely against the idea because it was, oh how do you say it, FREAKING FREEZING?!!??! But we bundled up and braced ourselves and Laura got herself some decaf coffee.

Gabriel: Can I have some coffee?

Me: *pause* Yeah. Sure. You can have a sip, it’s decaf.

Gabriel: (takes sip) I loooooooooooove coffee!

Me: Okay. Well. That’s mine. It only has milk in it. You’d probably like it a lot more with sugar in it.

Gabriel: No way, man. I like my coffee just with milk. Just like YOURS.

*pause*

And Laura?

Me: Yeah Gabes?

Gabriel: I love you.

So we walked on and found ourselves to be the ONLY ONES at the playground. Dang. This could be because it was, oh I don’t know, THE MIDDLE OF FREAKING FEBRUARY!?!?!?

Now, I’m a pretty good babysitter but when it’s playground time, I’d rather sit on the bench and read a book than run around like a crazy person with children. It’s not that I don’t love me some slides and jungle gyms, I’m just tired. ALL.THE.TIME. And also, since Gabe is an only child, I feel like it’s my duty to force him to socially interact with other kids. Well, Gabe didn’t have any playmates today so I got my lazy self up to run around for a 30 minute game of hide and seek and then a 7 minute sprint of tag. I was doing pretty well until I jumped off the stone castle into the sand and twisted my ankle.

“YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!!!!!!!” Gabriel screamed in my face.

As I doubled over in agony, trying not to yell out curse words, I assured him that I could not indeed catch him if my life depended on it because

Me: My ankle…*gasp for breath* is…on fire.

Gabriel: I don’t see any flames.

Me: I didn’t mean that literally. I mean I hurt it.

Gabriel: Oh. *pause* Well. I NEVER HURT ANYTHING BECAUSE I HAVE SUPER POWERS LIKE THE HULK.

Me: Right. I know.

AWWWWWWW! Come on people. Why am I not married and having 18 children?! It’s obvious that that is my destiny. Regardless of this “I want to be an actor” shit I’m trying to pull off, we all know I’m destined for stretchmarks and diapers. I even have the huge birthing hips!

Babysitting I guess should quelch those mommy pangs but sometimes, it makes it worse. I already feel like I’m a parent except for the tiny fact that oh, these kids aren’t mine. But I wipe their noses with my shirt, I jump up from sleeping on the couch to attend to the whimpers from the cribs, I share my food, I share EVERYTHING, I miss them when they’re gone, I’M ALREADY A MOTHER DAMNIT. SAVE ME. I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE.

But in all honesty? I love all of it. It makes me tired and crazy but I even like stupid things like filling up the dishwasher with baby bottles and folding baby clothes. I don’t even mind when Owen throws up ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE because it’s me that can hold his hand and whisper to him that it’s okay and give him some water and clean him up and rock him back to sleep.

And this gives me purpose, people. Purpose.

All this baby nonsense is no good for my almost-23 year old self.

My uterus is doing backflips, y’all. BACK.FLIPS.

And that is painful.

Who am I kidding, anyway? Without a career, I would probably go batshit crazy. Also, the problem with raising kids your whole life is that eventually kids grow up and become junior high schoolers and what the hell do I do with one of those??? Besides blink at them for long periods of time because they are ALIENS.

So for now I’m going to enjoy livin’ it up as a young HOT New York woman!

Watch me look so cute and fly in my clubbin’ outfits!

Check out my mad skillz on the dance floor! My ability to drink a green apple martini! My beautiful youth! My independence! My freedom!

I’m goin’ OUT, y’all! I’m pre-gaming! I’m doing jello shots! OH GLORY!!!

Oh wait. Just kidding. Because tonight? I have to wrap my ankle in an ace bandage, drink a cup of tea and eat a Dove chocolate heart while listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack and get to bed around 9 pm because who am I kidding, I am such a freaking loser.

Peace.