Ah, the well being created just by having a job. It does something to your psyche- the unconscious thought of "this is making me money, being here" really works. I like it. Plus, the daddyman has apparently been hired for a full-time maintenance gig, and has started. It's a "real" job, even though it's maintenance, which means that the employer actually takes taxes from the employee's wages. The tax taking, tax reporting function pretty much ensures that child support comes right out leaving the daddyman out of the decision-making loop. That was big for him. He has good intentions, really he does. But now that he's an addict, albiet a recovering addict, everyone (everyone being himself, his wife, and me) agrees that certain temptations like a big fat paycheck with his name on it, are better left to be administrated by others.

There it is again, the well-being. We'll just welcome it for now, and offer it a drink. Maybe if we can trick it into thinking it's having the time of its life, the well-being will stay. Better yet, maybe I can take my cue from Tom Robbins and tell well-being that the entire city was on fire, and by peeing out the window I have saved us all. Well-being would be so knocked out by my heroism that it will stay. Of course, being a girl- let me ammend that, being a girl that's delivered 3 big infants ( 8 lbs, 8 lbs, and 9 lbs)with none of the pushing lasting any longer than 20 minutes (and that was just baby #1. Babies #2 and #3 were out in less than 10 minutes. I am very focused and can push really hard given the situation I guess. I am literally- one tough mother) so, being a girl that's given birth to 3 big babies, I am pretty sure that any chance I had for figuring out how to pee standing up with direction is lost. Peeing out the window is probably not in the picture. Alas. However, I have hopes for well-being sticking around anyway. Folks get comfortable with me. There's just no beating the mommylap experience. With this new attitude of mine, I am guessing the world is my oyster. Of course there is a lack of childcare support and everyone knows that even if I am silly and careless enough to consume raw food that I am not about to feed it to my children. But tonight, I have a date to go see a flick with legalbeagle and her truelove. Her husband is coming along to, since legalbeagle's truelove is Quentin Tarantino and the movie is KillBill. I am looking for pointers to apply to the emerging mommylap new womanhood.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

(fade out to maniacal laughter, have it lapse into helpless giggling)

Everyone please cross your collective fingers for me. On the well-being and tonight's baby-sitting arrangements not falling through.