by thoughts of my son's friend, Wilson, new mother of a baby daughter born in November, I believe. The talented and formerly independent Wilson has become obsessive over nursing her daughter, bemoans her husband's disinterest and has totally subsumed her life in an unexpected path of frustration, insecurity (how can one possibly be the perfect mother?) and the surprising discovery that once she has become the unwitting vessel for the heretofore wildly anticipated progeny...well, duh. I have so far refrained from commenting on her blog, which I find alternately sad and annoying. Not what she expected - well, she shoulda asked, cuz darlin', ain't no surprises there.
Lower your expectations, give the kid a couple of bottles a day and have a good stiff shot. And tell you what - no one, not children, not husband, not even your own mother - will book you A Room of Your Own.
Love, Virginia
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