The Nanny Business.

I need to start blogging here again to talk about nanny related issues and such.

Any input from other nannies or parents is always welcome.

For starters, my kidlets. For the sake of privacy, they will be only referred to by their middle names on this blog.

The oldest is John. He is seven and in first grade. He is great at reading, but doesn't do anything I tell him. He is also very good at art.

Next is Elizabeth. She is four and a half. Sassy sassy sassy. She's very overbearing and controlling over the boys.

Next comes Timothy. He is two and a half and the epitome of the terrible twos.

Last is Matthew. He is three months old today. He is a giant fatty. 18 pounds! He is chatty and gassy.

They are who I love. They don't know that we have just begun our last few months together. I am moving 500 miles away from them next semester.

Here's the thing. Nobody but my girlfriend reads this. Soooo all of my posts will now go on my tumblr which is accessed by at least fifty people a day (I know, I am so popular).

If you are silently reading my blog, please join me on my tumblr. The url is thegirlwiththegirl.tumblr.com

I hope I see you there.

Two. Two migraines already. March 3 and March 6. Keeping track. 

Rant

Rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant rant.

Body rant.

Body rant.

Sigh.

I really want a baby.

But wait! You're still in college! That's not a very good idea!!

I know, crazies. I know.

Still doesn't take away my craving for a child...that sounds a little like a I want to eat a baby. Which I do not. But it's like there's a hole in my chest. It's a small hole. The perfect size for an infant.

Dear future baby,
I intend on meeting you in seven years. Hold on to your socks.
Sincerely, Momma.

TWW

Not just for those waiting for a BFP after an insem. It's officially what the time between now and when I see my love for the next time will be called. TWW. Dreaded TWW. Horribly TWW. Miserable TWW. This distance is killing me. She was only here for two days. It's not fair that everyone else gets to live with the one they love. But no. Not me. I get to be 500 miles away 75% of the year with just tiny little breaks in between. Two weeks isn't enough. We fought like pit bulls last night. We've never fought so hard. I theorize that it was because we knew she was leaving today and that makes us both so touchy and SAD. And it's so much easier to say goodbye when you're angry. Hey, no one said we are the experts on healthy lesbian relationships.

We woke up not angry, though. It always works that way. My dorm is a mess. There are pieces of her everywhere. I'm not complaining. I'm dreading having to go around and find all the pieces. All I need is to pick bits of her up and throw them out...reading over that last bit makes it sound like I killed her and then chopped her up in little pieces. I just mean that there's a sock of her's on the floor. A candy wrapper. A sugar packet. Dirty dishes. Rumpled sheets.

SOB.

Win.

Win win win win win win. WIN.

http://www.lesbilicious.co.uk/campaigns-politics/lesbian-couples-make-better-parents/

http://www.lesbilicious.co.uk/community/lesbian-parents-just-as-good-as-heterosexual-parents-study-finds/

I could have told you that none-bio lesbian moms would be more likely to spend time with their kids than biological heterosexual fathers. Lesbian partners have to work harder to create a child (in most, but not all, cases), and are therefore more invested in the lives of those children they worked so hard to create.

I smell senior sociology thesis!