In the past week, there have been a string of negative articles about parenthood. Derek says that it costs more to raise a kid than it did in the 1960s. Elizabeth Wurtzel, who doesn't have kids of her own, says that much of mom-work isn't really that important. In thick, pedantic prose, Christine Overall tells us to think before we procreate. This woman says that she doesn't want alien-parasites. 

I am about to enter into the long summer of parenting. The kids have a week of half-days at school, which annoyingly count as full days of school. Then they are home. I have jerry-rigged various camps for a few weeks of the summer, but they'll be around the house quite a bit. (Camp is VERY expensive.) At the same time, I need to get some work done. Kids + Work + No Childcare = the perfect recipe for hair-ripping frustration. 

Still, I am pretty glad that they are around. I can take my book to the swim club, after all. We'll take day trips into the city. Dinner with dad at a BBQ joint in Times Square. Bike races at the park. Afternoon movies. It will be splendid. Mostly.