SNAPPED! Reluctant Mother Style. . .

I’ve been feeling a little blah lately.  I blame the weather.  I realize it’s February and it’s supposed to be 30 some degrees with a nasty windchill but it’s bringing me down.

In an effort to cheer myself up, I purchased some fabric to make some new curtains and pillow shams for our bedroom.  I’m trying to get everything in order a looking nice so the house runs smoothly come spring and summer when our time can be spent watching Mac throw tantrums in the great outdoors.

I ordered the fabric since I would rather extract my own molars than attempt to select fabric in person with an 20 month old.  I was anxiously anticipating its arrival.  Yards and yards of fun prints for me to play with during these dreary February days!

Last Wednesday the fabric arrived.  What good luck!  Wednesday wasn’t a running night.  I was caught up on my other chores.  I figured with a little sweet talking or a guilt trip, I could convince Chris to amuse the kid for a few hours while I got started on the sewing.

To this end, I made sure to have the fabric pre-washed and dry before we even sat down for dinner.  Of course, dinner these days is often a 3 hour production given Mac’s current eating habits but he managed to eat pretty well during round one.  I cleaned up everything and quietly snuck off to the basement where my iron was waiting.

I was making curtains for two long windows, two pillow shams and a few accent pillows so there was a lot of fabric to iron.

I could hear quite a bit of ruckus on the main floor of the house.  While I was waiting for the iron to get warm, I did yell “What is going on up there?” to which Chris replied “Nooooooothing. . .” so I (stupidly) decided to let it go.

I got in the zone and ironed all the fabric.  Then, because I’m always racing to get just one more thing done, I cut all the fabric into the required shapes and sizes for my projects.

When I finished and looked at the clock and was mortified to realize it was nearly 8:30!

Oh balls.  

It’s 8:30.  And the kid is supposed to go to bed at 9 and he’s been running around up there screaming like a banshee for the past 45 minutes!

I ripped the iron’s cord from the electrical outlet and barreled up the stairs.

The scene before me was exactly as bad as I could have possibly imagined.  Every book, every toy, every pillow, every blanket was strewn about the main floor of the house.  Chris was dragging a diaperless Mac from one end of the house to the other on a little bean bag poof thing we typically reserve for QUIET READING TIME!!!  Mac is shrieking in sheer delight, “PULL, PULL, PULL, PLEASE!”

Of course everything came to a screeching halt when the boys realized I was standing at the top of the stairs clucking disapprovingly.  I was pretty angry.  Mac is supposed to be quiet before bed. . .so we can actually get him to bed. . .

I cannot recall the words that came out of my mouth next but I recall attempting to choose them wisely.  Although, being tactful is not one of talents.  I remember ordering Chris to attempt to feed Mac something before bed.  To which Chris responded, “The dog needs walked.”

Mac being exhausted was already starting to melt down at the disruption to the “Pull, Pull, Pull, Please” game and I knew if Chris left the house with the dog, I’d have no luck getting Mac a snack.  So I walked the dog.  In a downpour.

I returned to find Chris half-heartedly chasing Mac around with a spoonful of yogurt.  For chrissakes, this is ridiculous.  

After following them around for a few minutes wiping yogurt up off the parts of the floor I could see from all the book and toy carnage, I gave Mac his toothbrush, diapered him and sulked while Chris attempted to get him to settle.

Why does Chris do this?  I was gone for 45 minutes.  He watches me in a near panic every evening trying to feed this kid and get him ready for bed, knowing if we mess it up, the kid will be awake until 11.  Why would he do this?  

Shortly after 9, Chris declares he’s exhausted and retreats to our bedroom.  I attempt to read to Mac, who is nearly inconsolable because Daddy has left him with his troll Mom-ster.

I get Mac somewhat settled and get him to his crib, grab the baby monitor, shoot Chris – who is reclined in bed with the Fat Fluffs reading a book – a look of smouldering animosity and contempt, and tiptoe down the stairs.

I stood completely motionless in the kitchen, seething, for several minutes listening to the displeasure and angst emanating from the baby monitor.

Clearly Chris does this because he doesn’t respect my time.  He doesn’t have to care when the kid goes to sleep because he doesn’t have to deal with him.  He made me walk the dog in the pouring rain!  He left he house in shambles!  All I want to do is sew something.  It’s not like I asked to go out shopping or drinking or anything even remotely unreasonable.  I don’t ask for that much do I?  Don’t I deserve a little more respect than this?

And that’s when I SNAPPED.  I grabbed the Sleepy Wrap from the coat closet stomped up the stairs and hurled it as forcefully as I could at Chris’ head.  “You fix this.”

To his credit, Chris did try to fix it. . .for a good 30 minutes he attempted to get the kid to sleep.  But at 10 o’clock, Chris brought him back downstairs.  “I think he’s hungry.  I’d try to feed him.”  Chris says.

“He’s hungry because you didn’t feed him a snack earlier,” I hiss.

“Well, I didn’t know,” Chris protests.

“You didn’t know?!  Every night you watch me frantically play short order cook for this kid so I’m certain he’s full at bedtime and you DIDN’T know he needed to eat something?!”

Oh my stars.  I was beginning to understand the whole “heat of passion” defense used by some murder defendants.

Of course Mac was hungry.  And I did get him to bed shortly before 11.  And I did sew my curtains. . .until 3AM!!!

And Chris lived to tell about it.

Still, I learned my lesson.  These two cannot be trusted together.  Clearly, I’ll have to supervise them more closely or else I’m going to pay for it.

And I can’t help but suspect this is EXACTLY WHAT CHRIS WANTED.

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “SNAPPED! Reluctant Mother Style. . .

  1. If there is one aspect most fathers have in common is ignorance becomes our strongest tool. When it comes to our interests we’re just barely short of the IQ of Einstein. But outside our interest zone we wonder around the house like retarded zombies, knowing full well who will pick up the slack. Obviously, nothing has changed since my children were small. Loved the post!

  2. oh dear deni…. what a night! as always, i love reading your amusing rants… but this one really hits home. when people ask me how many kids i have. i say two. you should too 🙂

  3. And this is why I love you. Your blog always makes me laugh, and also makes me feel justified in my thought processes. 🙂 It amazes me how clueless The Hubs is. He always thinks I’m being the heavy, but when we do things his way and The Kid doesn’t nap, he quickly remembers how smoothly this ship sails when things are run MY WAY.

    But I’m with you on feeling like I don’t ask for much, and feeling really let down when the few things I want to do don’t go smoothly. My mom is in town for 3 days and we were supposed to go on a date tonight. It would be my first night out (and the first time someone has cooked for me) in 8 months. But my mom is currently in bed sick in her hotel room. No date night for us. And they aren’t coming back until June, which will make it ONE YEAR since I’ve had a night out with The Hubs. (*SCREAMING!*)

    • Ha! Sometimes I feel spoiled and rotten for complaining about little things like this. But 1) They are pretty funny after the fact and 2) Every Mom deserves just a little time to herself. And I don’t think showering should count. Really, that’s a basic necessity. Ha! Of course the flip side is we ALWAYS pay for it. It’s a universal truth. Every Mom. Every where.

      Oh my goodness! I can’t believe your Mother is sick. Poor Mother. Poor You! That’s awful. Did she travel from overseas too? Can she extend her visit a little bit if she starts feeling better? I’m so sorry! There’s just not even words. I completely understand how you must feel.

      If you lived closer I would totally watch Bubbs for you guys once in a while! I would use at least a pint of Purell, follow your bed time routine to the letter AND makes sure all the surfaces in your Condo were Windexed before you returned home! I would! I think we both understand how important (if not neurotic) all of that is. 🙂

      PS Slacked on my Circle of Mom’s voting over the weekend but I’ll do my best to keep on it for you this week. XO

  4. It gets better: I had to drag The Kid through the grocery store this aft since we had nothing for dinner, Hubs didn’t leave 1/2 hour early as he had hoped, and he just texted to say there are subway problems. Just a typical night for me.

    Ha! I love that you would do all of that for me! I would babysit Mac, too, and I would wear him in that sleep wrap all night long. Would probably help me shed my post-holiday weight!!!

    Thanks so much for the voting. I am NEVER doing this again. I feel like I have totally pissed off my followers, but I have an inability to do anything half-assed, and my family and friends don’t know the name of my blog, so I can’t hassle them! 😉

    xoxoxoxoxp

    • for itThere is no doubt in my mind that you would drag Mac around in the sleepy wrap if needed and I adore you for it! If we ever get a break, let’s tweet. . .#SomedayIWill XO

  5. Pingback: Call Me Crazy. . .I Am. | The Diary of a Reluctant Mother

  6. I come back home from a full day at Gymboree ( I work there) on Saturdays and find this- peanut butter jar let open, bed sheets, bed covers never on the bed, crayon marks on the floor, clothes on the bathroom floor but never the hamper- child and father both, every single glass surface sticky and dried bits of food on the dinning table although the offspring likes to sit on the futon and have his grub.

    But as annoyed as I get Deni, I love working on Saturdays because am away from the monster and his father!!!

    Someone else’s kids are always easier to tolerate especially since each class is only of 45 mins to an hour.

    Heck! I’d pay them to let me go there on a daily basis!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s