Despite now having 2 children, I have never become germ obsessed. I have allowed both children (as babies) to crawl around on the floor without washing it first, I have let dogs lick their faces, and I have been known to wash a binkie by sucking on it myself. I have Purell around, but only next to the changing stations (because I know full well that I am not able to hold a squirmy baby AND wash my hands at the sink like I would prefer), and I try hard not to buy into the whole antibacterial craze.
But I love, love, LOVE bleach. If I was allowed only one cleaning product for the rest of my life bleach would be it. Especially since the cats had Giardia AND I suddenly had a son who only felt manly if he peed standing up (but lacked the attention span to complete a pee without dripping). Gotta love the drip-drip action.
It’s bordering on obsession. Suddenly I want to dip the baby in bleach after he shits up his back. I have to stop myself from following both Ben and Dave around with a spray bottle of bleach.
Between this and my eyebrow plucking problem I think I need a new hobby, as I’m starting to think I’m a little Aspy.
If you had asked me 7 years ago what I’d expect my world to look like when I turned 27, I seriously doubt I’d have seen myself as a mother of two (!?!). Growing up, although my mother did stay home, “housewife” was a dirty word and something I’d never have wanted to become. But you know what they say, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.
Nevertheless, here I am. Degreed in a field I’ve always hated. Staying at home day after excruciating long day. Occasionally I am the person you glare at when you go to Target, complete with squalling baby and snivelling first-grader. Yes, I am aware of how obnoxious this is. Those bags under my eyes have been well earned, I promise. And no, I didn’t look in the mirror before I went out. Sorry about the smell. I’ll shower tomorrow.
Some days are diamonds, some are rocks, and all are unique. Well, almost all of them. Since Alex has been born, my life feels like one four-month long day. Want to expend some of my energy? Ask me what I had for breakfast. I HAVE NO IDEA. But I will die trying to remember.
Damn, I really need to take up a speed habit.
Anyone who has had to bear the burden of being married or in a long term relationship has inexplicably been stuck in the same predicament year after year. Who gets you for the holidays or any other day of the year that your family may deem IMPERATIVE that you be home.
I have been blessed with both in-laws and a family who do not become angry if I am unable to make a particular holiday. Neither of us gets outright YELLED at or threatened to be written out of a will or two. No, they’re MUCH more subtle than that. I’ve experienced the passive aggressive, sullen and disheartened, “Well, ooooookkkkkay, I GUESS it’s OKAY if you don’t make it. Your BROTHER would have made it.”
The Daver deals with the same stuff.
And I have to be honest, I ADORE the holidays.
It’s the most wonderful motherfucking time of the year, after all. There is nothing more magical than the Christmas season, aside from maybe a freshly shorn nutbag, but I digress. The lights, the smells, the sounds, the bells, I love it all. I love shopping for gifts, I love decorating for the holidays; I love that magical first snow of the year.
And I admit that I even love seeing my family and my in-laws. I adore both sides of our family; and I love seeing them for the holidays.
As usual, there is a catch: both sets of parents EXPECT that they are the most important members of the family,and are therefore entitled to certain unalienable privileges. Most of those being our time WHENEVER THEY WANT US TO for the holidays. It isn’t as though I don’t want to see them; I do.
But I can’t say that I enjoy my holidays spent in the car going from one place to another. Although traveling isn’t a problem for us; we like to get going as much as the next person. But spending 7+ hours a day in a car with a small child for a couple of hours with each set of families is going pretty far beyond what anyone else in the famil(ies) do.
It only compounds matters exponentially that my parents, living about 1 hour from us, see us far more than Dave’s do, living 3+ hours from us (although, by some untapped miracle Dave claims that it only takes an hour and a half. Aside from teleportation, I have no idea how he gets there with such speed), which makes us feel bad. This, in turn makes us try to bend over literally downward facing dog AND the tree trying to appease whatever holiday requests they ask of us.
But no matter how much we break our backs for the families, no one else will meet us halfway. We get no”Well you came out by us last time, now it’s our turn.” If we cannot attend a gathering, there will be no offer to see us or come out to our house at a rescheduled date. Which would explain why I found a couple of little gifts I had picked up for my in-laws LAST YEAR in my vanity. Just SHAMEFUL.
Let’s compound things once again: I have a child whose father is not Dave, and said father wants to see his child on the holidays, too. So Dave, Ben and I are stuck grappling with the seemingly senseless fragments of 3 timetables from 3 families.
We have to make it to cities, W, X, Y and Z in a matter of 1.5 days. These cities are 1-4 hours apart. So we could alternate the cities based on a number of factors (If we leave for W at 6pm after work, get there at 9, stay til 6am drive 4 hours, arrive at 10:30, open gifts, smile, laugh, eat, leave at 1pm if Ben has had nap, drive another hour, drive an hour back, open more presnets, better not nap b/c you’ll look like you’re not having fun, drive 1.5 hours home, utterly exhausted), but it essentially boils down to extra travelling time for us, but not for anyone else.
Here’s my resolution, dear Internet, next year this foolishness will be done, and we won’t exhaust ourselves traveling multiple hours in the car just to appease everyone for the holidays.
Next year, we’re embracing the “N” word.
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