Even though I complain about the parenting time constantly (much more than I blog about), there is a (very) small part of me that looks forward to it. I hate to admit it, but it's my only real, consistent time out of the house by myself.
I'm not usually by myself though. My Mom almost always goes with me, after the screaming incident she likes to be there as back-up. We plan a dinner out, and usually some shopping. Luckily, Nemo's parents live close to lots of shopping, so it's easy to rotate between the malls and other shopping areas without becoming too bored. On occasion, we might go visit my grandmother, who has cancer and is not doing very well.
On the infrequent times that my Mom can't go, I might go to the library, meet up with friends (although it's rare that anyone can fit into my specific time block), or just go out to dinner by myself with a book. Even the times by myself are pleasant enough.
Besides the fact that I don't trust Nemo, the hardest part for me is that I don't like that the parenting time is etched in stone. That I feel like I have no choice about it. Usually, I have a nice time, and it's a good break for me to get out of the house. I can accomplish things quicker too without dragging around a toddler.
I just hate that it's forced upon me.
Monday, July 24, 2006
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