Eden M. Kennedy

mission accomplished, pal

Eden M. Kennedy is the co-author (with Alice Bradley) of the book Let's Panic About Babies! (St. Martin's Press, 2011).

A former college-radio DJ, Mrs. Kennedy has driven cross-country six times in a 1973 Volkswagen Bug and enjoys standing on her head.

Currently she works a straight job and is just about finished writing her first novel.

Jack's response to my comment, upon returning from two hours of yoga, that I had discovered some new muscles in my abdominal area that were going to have plenty to say to me the next day:

"Pain is just weakness leaving the body."

To which we all must bow delightedly and say, Obi Wan! Your hair looks fantastic!

My satisfaction with yoga as a physical discipline has less to do with sinewy muscles than with a really childish thrill at being able to stand on my head or stick my ankle behind my neck. I mean, I know I'm breathing deeply and being all meditative and burning off loads of karma, but still, it's like, "Whoopee! Time for backbends!"

You come here for my mature perspective on life, don't you?

Jackson's most recent babysitter (let's call her Rosie) is a laborer on one of Jack's building sites. She's the only woman on the crew; right now she does a lot of sweeping and general cleaning up, but she wants to work her way up to being a carpenter. She has two kids of her own that her mother watches during the day.

So yesterday I'm getting ready to leave and Jackson's clinging to my leg because he sees the yoga mat and he knows what's coming, and after taking a shower Rosie decides it's a good time to clean out our refrigerator. I'm like, "What are you doing?" and she's all, "Well, I was going to do this last time," and she starts taking out six-month-old jars of applesauce and other horrors and lining them up on the counter. "You don't have to do that," I say as she starts taking the shelves out to bleach them. "You've been working all day," I continue, "it's okay, just go to the park and hang out with Jackson." But she says she's already started so don't worry about it, and I think, Okay, Rosie and her husband work six days a week just to keep their kids in clean clothes, and I spend my days lying on an unvacuumed floor watching my son try to eat banana peels, waiting for him to take a nap so I can tell the Whole Internet how hilarious our life is. What should my reaction to this little disconnect be?

a. Rosie, you go to yoga, I'll just stay here and scrub the toilet with a toothbrush.
b. Holy shit, I'm a lousy housekeeper, I'd better pay her double for this.
c. Thank God I Was Born in the United States of America to Republican Parents, Is This Country Great OR WHAT?
d. Fuck it, I gotta go work on my hamstrings.
e.