If a person named "Nortorious" applied for your babysitter position would you:
a) Run screaming (after laughing just a little) b) Look up if that's the way to spell "Notorious" and you've just been spelling it wrong all these years c) Curse her (yes, her) poor parents d) Worry that maybe you're taking this baby naming thing a bit too lightly e) All of the above
It's only fair that after I write a mature and all-growed-up post about understanding my truly good fortune in this extremely difficult world we live in my husband received word that he must indeed do 45 days with the Guard unit in Delaware.
Yes. I know it's not 90 days. And I know it's not a year deployment.
After a few days of going it on my own again, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. The weather has been gorgeous so we've been able to enjoy our deck and our yard and the most genius invention ever made for two children under 3: THE WATER AND SAND TABLE.
And I'm actually getting things done -- scheduling midwife and pediatrician appointments, interviewing doulas, getting preschool applications in, drilling and screwing in a freaking lion proof baby gate. Now I'm most certainly not scrubbing baseboards and my hands have yet to touch the vacuum, but the house is picked up at night. The kids aren't reciting Shakespeare yet, but Drew is waving "hi" and "bye" to all passers by, including stray dogs and the UPS man.
And I'm only staying up to midnight so I can do that thing called "work." Technically, if I can keep my brain in Central Time Zone, that's only 11pm! Not bad at all.
Thankfully, the Messiah has returned -- at least to my home in the form of a lovely older Brazilian woman who is dying to babysit. Alternating visits from Michael Vartan and Aidan Shaw (Sex and the City), in the form of a large pink vibrating cone, are set to begin early next week. And hello, Grey's Anatomy!
Truth be told, it will be nice to have an extra excuse to visit my friends and my mom. And if I'm desperate for blog fodder and need a good reality check, the in-laws. And being pregnant in Philly, ala water ice, cheese steaks, and pizza, isn't so bad.
But I do wish we could all be together again. That he could be with me at the ultrasound when we find out who has been craving salads and fruit. And go shopping for furniture. And choose paint. And pick out porch chairs.
We've got a lot of shit to settle. Not just with this house, but with our relationship. Admittedly, the 15-minute a night phone conversations don't hurt what has been a rocky four months. But every time I see him, it's like we're starting over. We're treading water. We're not getting anywhere.
But it is what it is. Now off to gaze into the night sky at the beautiful bright stars.
All good things seem to come with a "but" for me. I'm not sure if it's because I'm always seeing things as they should be or how I want them to be, and not how they actually are.
It's a momentary high followed by a sometimes harsh reality, like a beautiful sunset that leads into the dark, bleak night.
My mother is coming down to Atlanta so I don't have to fly up to Philadelphia on Tuesday for my trip. But she's hassling me about what flight to take. And whether she can leave the night I get back or if not then, at the butt crack of dawn the next morning. And she hopes nothing will happen to the kids and if it does she doesn't want me to get mad or blame her like I did when she let my dogs out on the coldest day of the Philadelphia winter without leashes and *surprise* they ran away.
"Just keep your eye on them. And don't let them off their leashes" I joked. Maybe the in-laws would be easier.
I've been feeling pretty great with this pregnancy going into my 16th week and I'm way off track for another 70lb weight gain. But I haven't really felt the baby move and maybe because I'm not craving sweets that means there's something wrong with the baby and I won't be able to find out because I don't have a babysitter to watch my kids so I can go to the midwife which I don't yet have anyway.
"I'm feeling great. You can't beat a pregnancy where you're craving salad and fruit." It's because I'm carrying a rabbit.
And I'm back in my house, my gorgeous beautiful, amazing house. But my husband is gone all week and I don't have a babysitter yet and I spent three hours putting up a baby gate last night that involved using a drill (eek) and I haven't found a midwife or a doula or a preschool for Quinlan.
"I'm so glad to be home," I tell people. Perhaps the tiny house in Little Rock wasn't so bad after all.
If I didn't know any better, this would just be how things were. But for some reason, I can't keep staring at the green grass on the other side. And as I think about the many many many challenges I've faced even just over the last few years, I wonder if it's just time for me voice my discontent, acknowledge the suckitude, and then cleanse myself acceptance.
Acceptance that my mom is my mom. And she probably won't be changing anytime soon. Acceptance that I will be spending many nights alone in this house. And that probably won't be changing anytime soon.
As I drove through however many straight hours of pouring down rain, with one brief stopover at my favorite mall in Tupelo, Mississippi (birthplace of Elvis, in case you're wondering), I had several realizations:
1) Trying to pull out white hairs from the crown of your head while driving is never really a great idea. Especially in the dark.
2) My son was not created for long car rides, although driving until 3am was actually a smart move on our part.
3) It was not a smart move, however, for my bowels, or the bags under my eyes.
4) I wish had a DVD player. And an iPhone. And a driver.
Upon arriving home, I then realized the following:
1) Apparently I made it onto some crazed PR person's list because waiting for me were total of 24 dvds while I was gone, half of which are
2) I think I have dandruff, which isn't so bad except when you notice it at 3am after driving in the car in the pouring rain for 10 hours.
3) I really really really really really missed my house.
Edited to add: AND BRAVO! YAY TOP CHEF OH HOW I'VE MISSED YOU! It's good to be home.