This morning I crawled out of bed to discover that Chris had taken our little gremlin to the barber shop with him when he went. According to Chris, she had a grand time. She fit right in, cooing on cue to the Barber who was complaining about whatever it is that crochety old men complain about. I made my way toward the sanctuary of my couch, wobbling as though I'd been drinking through the weekend. For the record I was not, dammit.
The TV was on, as it usually is and I was surprised to find 3 Men and a Baby was on the screen. As I absorbed this, I was also watching Chris, who was playing with the baby. Between the silly voices emanating from him and the 80's gem playing on screen it's no surprise I wondered if he'd gone soft in the head. On a side note, this isnt the first time I've woken up to find really weird stuff on the TV. Just two days go, there was a documentary about Jeff Gordon playing. He will watch something, and then get up and walk away. Listen, a TV is not background noise. If it's on, it's meant to be watched. Otherwise, turn it off. Jeez. This is not a difficult concept.
After shaking off the sleepies, I got started in the kitchen whipping up some yummy Shepherd's Pie. I made it, and am quite proud to announce that it was delicious. However my kitchen now bears a strong resemblence to Ground Zero. Between the pile of dishes, and the various and sundry baby toys, supplies, swings, playmats, etcetera, etcetera strewn all about the house, I'm wondering when I woke up to such domestic bliss.
I mean, for crying out loud, I just spent 20 minutes snapping photographs of my little gremlin who was talking to the ceiling fan. I can't even blame Chris's genes for that either, that's definitely all me right there. I've been taking her about the house, pointing out the walls, doors, and windows in the hopes that if she knows what they are early she wont spend her life running into them as I am still prone to doing.
I'm still left wondering when this all happened. Two years ago, this was so not my life. I was doing things, going places, meeting people. My schedule back then boggles me now. I'm not sure how I managed it. Anyone who knows me can agree that my time management skills read in the comics section of a newspaper. Two years ago, I only had myself to worry about. Today, all eyes in the house were on me, including our two cats. Hello, have we met? I am a giant slacker. Get your own food, your own drink, and be merry in your own corner, away from me. Oops, who pushed the grumpy button?
Let's ignore that last paragraph, shall we?
I spend my days giving big, slobbery kisses to my daughter and getting big, slobbery kisses from Chris. I cook his meals and pack his lunches and fold loads of laundry on a daily basis. I play with our gremlin, reading stories too her and getting excited when she gives me a happy smile. And after the baby goes to bed, I give the cats extra cuddles and pets. Last week I bought yarn, and crochet hooks because I want to make the baby a crocheted stuffed animal. And that's not the worst if it, that's only what I'm willing to cop too. I'm so content in my domestic bliss that I want to take that crochet hook to my eyeball.
My friends (if I have any of those) I am in dire need of an intervention. I need me time. I need a pedicure. I need a waxing session with a sadist parading as a beauty technician. I need to gorge myself on sushi and after, some 2 for 1 margaritas at Chili's. I need a shopping spree that doesnt involve cute outfits for the baby, diapers, and cat litter. I need shoes. I NEED PURSES. I need help.
If you check back in on me next year only to find a me covered from head to toe in a crochet cozy, fossilized in domestic bliss, you have only yourselves to blame.
The TV was on, as it usually is and I was surprised to find 3 Men and a Baby was on the screen. As I absorbed this, I was also watching Chris, who was playing with the baby. Between the silly voices emanating from him and the 80's gem playing on screen it's no surprise I wondered if he'd gone soft in the head. On a side note, this isnt the first time I've woken up to find really weird stuff on the TV. Just two days go, there was a documentary about Jeff Gordon playing. He will watch something, and then get up and walk away. Listen, a TV is not background noise. If it's on, it's meant to be watched. Otherwise, turn it off. Jeez. This is not a difficult concept.
After shaking off the sleepies, I got started in the kitchen whipping up some yummy Shepherd's Pie. I made it, and am quite proud to announce that it was delicious. However my kitchen now bears a strong resemblence to Ground Zero. Between the pile of dishes, and the various and sundry baby toys, supplies, swings, playmats, etcetera, etcetera strewn all about the house, I'm wondering when I woke up to such domestic bliss.
I mean, for crying out loud, I just spent 20 minutes snapping photographs of my little gremlin who was talking to the ceiling fan. I can't even blame Chris's genes for that either, that's definitely all me right there. I've been taking her about the house, pointing out the walls, doors, and windows in the hopes that if she knows what they are early she wont spend her life running into them as I am still prone to doing.
I'm still left wondering when this all happened. Two years ago, this was so not my life. I was doing things, going places, meeting people. My schedule back then boggles me now. I'm not sure how I managed it. Anyone who knows me can agree that my time management skills read in the comics section of a newspaper. Two years ago, I only had myself to worry about. Today, all eyes in the house were on me, including our two cats. Hello, have we met? I am a giant slacker. Get your own food, your own drink, and be merry in your own corner, away from me. Oops, who pushed the grumpy button?
Let's ignore that last paragraph, shall we?
I spend my days giving big, slobbery kisses to my daughter and getting big, slobbery kisses from Chris. I cook his meals and pack his lunches and fold loads of laundry on a daily basis. I play with our gremlin, reading stories too her and getting excited when she gives me a happy smile. And after the baby goes to bed, I give the cats extra cuddles and pets. Last week I bought yarn, and crochet hooks because I want to make the baby a crocheted stuffed animal. And that's not the worst if it, that's only what I'm willing to cop too. I'm so content in my domestic bliss that I want to take that crochet hook to my eyeball.
My friends (if I have any of those) I am in dire need of an intervention. I need me time. I need a pedicure. I need a waxing session with a sadist parading as a beauty technician. I need to gorge myself on sushi and after, some 2 for 1 margaritas at Chili's. I need a shopping spree that doesnt involve cute outfits for the baby, diapers, and cat litter. I need shoes. I NEED PURSES. I need help.
If you check back in on me next year only to find a me covered from head to toe in a crochet cozy, fossilized in domestic bliss, you have only yourselves to blame.
HAH Welcome, you have "arrived." Yeah, it doesn't really stop being like this. And every now and again, you'll stop and let loose a loud "WTF! What happened to me?"
ReplyDeleteAnd you know what's going to happen when you go out for "me" time with friends? You'll spend every moment worrying that Chris (or whomever may be babysitting) is doing OK with her. Is she eating, will he change her diaper quickly enough, what if she cuts her head open walking into a wall...?
Once you have all that under control, you'll be able to head out with no problem. Oh wait...one problem: she'll be old enough to know when you're leaving and start crying, "Mama, Mama!" I dare you to leave and not spend every moment thinking about her then.
She also could have mentioned that 3 Men and a Baby was only turned on for the last 30 minutes because The Princess Bride was coming on after it. I can suffer 30 minutes of Gutenburg for that movie.
ReplyDelete