Paging Dr. Freud

So I guess I shouldn't blog so much about my garden, because last night I dreamed that where most of the plants had been, there were only empty squares of dirt. Goodbye, zucchini. Addio, tomatoes. It was very sad. I was crushed. Happily everything is still there in real life. (It wasn't really a Freudian dream at all, just anxiety.) I do need to spray some insecticide (organic, natch) to get rid of these little beetles that like to eat the leaves and who knows what else. I keep discovering them in flagrante delicto nestled in the zucchini flowers. I'm sure it's very cozy in there, what with the warm golden light filtering through the blossoms, a perfect spot for romance, but get the hell out, bugs!

In other news--there is no good way to segue here--I've recently noticed that my son has leg hair. I swear it wasn't there a month or so ago. But maybe I am just noticing now that he wears shorts more often. It's these little things that sometimes make me realize how he's growing up. A few months ago I felt for the last remnant of his fontanel and it was gone. In less than 2 months he'll be 2 years old. I'm sure in a moment I'll turn around and he'll be shaving, driving, and graduating from high school, God willing. I realized at some point that part of what's so weird about having a child is that I still feel like pretty much the same person. I still listen to WFNX (after a few months just after ASH was born in which I steadily listened to the local classical station, because I do love classical music, and supposedly it's good for babies' brains and all, until one day I just couldn't stand it anymore. Give me back my Beasties and my Nine Inch Nails!). I still swear more than I should (particularly in the car, alas, and only too late do I realize what I've just said to the idiot in front of me while my little pitcher sits inches away). I still like sharing drinks and gossip with friends. I still like wearing makeup and high heels (even if my feet don't). I don't know what made me think this would all magically fall away and I would switch to sweatpants and smooth jazz. I'm the first of my main circle of friends to have a baby, and I'm enjoying showing them that it is possible to retain one's sense of self while wiping spit-up off your concert t-shirt. Not to sound smug, or like I don't have plenty of days where I don't bother to try to look pretty, or like there weren't days at the beginning where I felt having a baby had been a bad idea (don't tell ASH). Being a parent is the most ridiculously difficult thing in the world. So hard that I genuinely believe if people knew how hard it was, they wouldn't do it. BUT. It is also the greatest, most rewarding, most bringing-love-into-your-life thing you can do. In my opinion. I have Moxie and her commenters to thank for showing me all the different ways there are to parent, and to show me that I'm not alone. And some days, to remind me to be grateful for the challenges I do have, because when you are tired from your 22-month-old waking up crying at 3 AM one day out of the month, you go to Ask Moxie and see someone commenting who is still nursing her cosleeping 2 1/2-year-old 3 times a night...well, then you feel MUCH better.

This is the randomest post ever, no? I'll stop now. :-)