Do you know what would make being patient easier? A whole lot of drugs. Do you know what I am going to have? A very small amount of drugs.

That’s not exactly, fully what I want here. Life doesn’t give a shit. I’m nursing a dang baby. Minimal drugs, bitch. Just enough to keep me shitting and eating and not cracking all my teeth. Not enough to feel cheerful.

Frankly there aren’t enough studies about the impact. I do minimize what I put in my baby as much as possible.

I just can’t use zero or I will melt down.

This phase is challenging but so important. I love so many parts of having a nursing infant. I will never again be this wonderful, this able to solve needs just with my body, this needed.

I didn’t think I would get this third chance and I appreciate it so much because I didn’t truly have hope I would meet this child. I’ve been through the baby gauntlet and come out the far side with big kids. I know how short and magical this time is.

But nursing fucking sucks. It’s also wonderful. More than one thing can be true.

I love this stage and it is hard. Ambiguity. Strong opposing feelings. That’s life.

I rewatched Orange is the New Black with an eye towards watching Susan more carefully. (Crazy Eyes) Watching the way she freaks out… that feels so true. I am not quite at the level of that character (I have a high IQ and she is developmentally six years old) but as I was flipping out at my friend on Sunday I kept getting flashes of Susan. My friend wanted me to calm down because I was reacting really big to an interaction that felt small to her. In my head I was seeing Susan screaming “I did a bad thing” and hitting herself in the head.

Shit. I totally do that.

I mean, my tantrums are slightly more nuanced and I’m better at hiding them… but that’s a huge chunk of what is different. I’m better at hiding my crazy and that’s a lot of what makes me be perceived better. If I was put in a setting like prison I don’t think I would do well. I would be seen as being as crazy as she is.

That scares me.

I am not better. As I watch all the stories of why these women are in prison… my fuck ups mostly haven’t been smaller (except the folks who committed murder or major fraud…) and I just didn’t get caught. I have muled drugs. If I had been caught on one of the times I was bringing all the drugs to a party? Phew.

I’ve done other shit I’m not going to list now.

For the record… I haven’t done much in the last few years that I could get in trouble for. I won’t model it in front of my kids and I don’t get a lot of space from them.

I understand why my sister did drugs in front of me. There was no one to watch me while she was supposed to be “responsible” and that was as responsible as she was capable of being.

I grit my teeth more and swallow pills or eat bits of medicated candy at meal times but I don’t spend my time hot boxing the house with my kids around. Learn better, do better. My kids are exposed to a medical explanation of drugs and they are not around smoking. They don’t need the medication and that would expose them.

I keep reading people describe other women as “good mothers” and I want to know what they are being judged on?

I’m not sure I’m a good mother. I’m doing my best and somedays that’s pretty good and other days it isn’t. I don’t know about anyone else. What is a good mother? I don’t understand. I don’t know what all these darned kids need.

My back hurts.