I had a small epiphany yesterday. I said small, since I know epiphanies are probably by definition huge. During a seemingly long breakfast I was holding my hung over head with one hand and securing Max on my lap with the other, I noticed that Max was holding relatively still and not fussing. He was calmly hanging out with us while my wonderful chef husband made breakfast — we were for the first time doing pretty much nothing. Max doesn't normally hold still, at all really and he usually complains in that wah fussy fussy cry more than I like or than I think is acceptable. I started to wonder how long this chill out would last. Pretty long actually, all morning and through the afternoon, very nice. I wondered what was going on. Clearly the only change between this morning and all the others was my pathetic irresponsible after effect. Perhaps I should be permanently hung over, ha ha ha just skating the edge of a perfect excuse. But really, apparently my condition made me relax and therefore relaxes those imprinting off me. Huh. Not rocket science you’re thinking? But it is deceptively deep in its simplicity. I took it a little farther and realized I've been subscribing to some of my generation's mommy madness by thinking Max needs my constant activity and attention. I've had a running and crazy making voice in my head constantly pressuring me to do more. More of what exactly is the big abstract annoyance. I've even been subscribing to the hellish over produced mom agenda and freaking out about future schooling issues rather than enjoying the fact that we’re not there yet. This freakish anxiety of mine is why I need a tortured musings category on my blog.

My fabulous little sister (permanent title I might add) sent me an excerpt from Judith Warner's New York Times blog Domestic Disturbances (part of Times Select which I don't subscribe therefore I can't read it daily without forking over dough so no linky linky — However I found the quote on the real eve blog). Within normal, healthy limits, what we do, how we feed, how we sleep, how we talk, whether we read to our kids for a half-hour each day or for six (as I, craziest of all the crazies, sometimes did), doesn't really matter very much in the long term, I'm starting to think--so long as we do what we do with kindness and with love. Nice. I hear the Beatles singing "all you need is love, la la la." 'tis true. I found a few more mom blogs I'd like to share: the new mom, half changed world, corporate mommy, dot moms, and then here's a little tasty gossip to break up the mommy centricity annie in motion.