I know I’ve been whining a lot lately. And it’s got to be getting old.
Unfortunately, there is no relief of the bitching and moaning here today. Consider yourself warned…
On Saturday we went with Mr. and Mrs. Avitable to Mt. Dora - a cute little tourist town with shops and restaurants and tea and shit like that. One of those places you go to roam and ramble and relax.
Not one of those places you drag two little kids.
However, my husband’s new job has him working weekends - every weekend, both days. Forget for a moment how much this sucks for him (and he does still get two days off, they are just during the week) and let’s focus on the fact that this requires me to bring two little kids - one of whom is relishing her Terrible Two’s - everywhere that I go. Always.
As we walked through the shops and I threatened my children and tried to contain a wiggling ball of “energy”, I found myself looking around longingly and the “roamers” - the people trying desperately to enjoy some peace and quiet despite my noisy ass children. I realized I was daydreaming about lazy Saturdays spent antiquing, which is totally retarded because I’m not a big antiquer.
I am, however, a shopper. And the fact that I can’t imagine for the life of me when I will have a chance to go shopping again all by myself… well… I am not exaggerating when I tell you I drove home very, very close to tears.
And, yes, I know, my mom is right. NOTHING is “for always”. Nothing. This too shall pass and what not.
But I find that I am really, really, really missing “me” time. Which is odd, because I’ve never been a big one for “alone” time. I’d much rather surround myself with people and conversation and left to my own devices, quite honestly, I’m bored as hell. “Me” time usually means I grab for the phone and the company of another voice.
But now… well… even my beautiful glass shower has turned into a torture device. I can’t be in there two minutes without Emma’s little face pushed up to the glass going “Mama, MaaaaaaaaMA, whatchadoin? Is this Emma’s bath? Mama’s bath? Watcha doing? I want pop tarts! There are monschers in Brover’s ROOM! MAAAAAAAAAAma!”
Thank God there is a door on the “water closet” so I can pee in quiet.
The ironic part is, I couldn’t WAIT to get down here. I couldn’t wait to be done with the painting and fixing and staging and selling and packing and moving and just… breeeaaaathe. I was so excited for all the family time we’d have, far away from obligation after obligation.
Now, I would kill for a grandparent or two - and not just because I’m missing everyone back home like crazy. No, as much as I miss them, I am CRAVING a little baby sitting relief. I just want to be by myself for a little while.
I mean, technically, I am alone for almost two hours every day. In the car. On I fucking 4. If trapped with 5 million morons on wheels can count as being alone.
I’m just so fucking overwhelmed. And I know this won’t last forever. And I know I did this myself, I wanted this. But right now it just feels like there is no relief in sight. Right now I’m looking down a road that seems to stretch on forever and ever and ever and I just want to cry. That deep down sobbing where you just cry and cry and cry really, really hard until you can BREATHE again.
I need air. I need release. I need more than a 30 minute bath or something. I need a fucking valve installed so that I can unload ALLLLLLL of the stress, once and for all.
What I need… what I really, really need… is to shop. Really, really shop. Oh dear God to I need a bargain hunting spree soooo badly right now.
(and yes, thank you, let me save you the email, I am this much of a shallow cry baby brat, OK?)
(And - back to my husband and how much working weekends must suck. HE gets two days off still. During the week. And we pay for day care by the week with NO discounts if they aren’t there. So, he can have two WHOLE FUCKING DAYS IN A ROW ALL BY HIMSELF!! EVERY. FUCKING. WEEK! I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I’m actually kind of jealous of his schedule.)
So, for those of you reading who are wondering what to send me for a housewarming gift (and if you’re not, why? seriously, people have no manners these days) - may I kindly, and subtly suggest Mary Freaking Poppins?
Shit, time to wrap up. I hear the ending credits of Sponge Bob…
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As long as you don’t mind liberal usage of duct tape, I am now ready to babysit for you at any time. Just don’t believe anything either of them say about how mean I am.
August 27th, 2007 at 12:06 am
Oh, and Mr. and Mrs. Avitable? What am I, ninety years old? Dogfucker.
August 27th, 2007 at 12:07 am
OMFG I could have written this! As you know, I have felt all of these emotions from my move to the scorching desert. Back home, every third weekend, my kids would go spend the weekend with my parents and two sisters. Granted, we still had the foster kids at our house, but they were 13 or older and plenty able to entertain themselves.
I had NO FUCKING IDEA how much I would miss just being able to unload, for lack of a better term, my children for even one hour. It would have been pure unadulterated bliss. I’m so not kidding. Mine were 7 and 4 when we moved. My only alone time was in the car for my new two hour commute (one hour each way). Finally, after almost a whole year of living here, working full time all week, commuting 14+ hours per week, being totally jealous that my husband got to sleep in (the kids were in daycare or school and he worked nights), finally after a year of that, the girls went to spend the night at hubby’s mom’s house. And what did I do with all that free time? I fucking slept. I fell asleep on the couch at 6:30 p.m. and my hubby woke me up when he got home from work at 2a.m. I pissed away the whole damned opportunity.
So hang in there girl. I know exactly what you’re feeling and going through (and falling asleep on the couch) and the whole blessed thing. It will get better eventually. Really. Hugs, Me
August 27th, 2007 at 1:36 am
So…if I come to visit, not only can I peep in at you while you shower, but I can also get a Pop Tart?
I’m sorry things are a little rough right now. There are always a lot of adjustments when one makes a big move. It will get better.
Of course, I have no way of really knowing if that is true.
August 27th, 2007 at 5:54 am
Honey,
I know just how you are feeling! Things will get better. And, when I come to visit, I will happily watch your children while you shop, OR I will bring Dave and he can watch your kids while WE shop!
August 27th, 2007 at 8:09 am
There’s nothing like shopping as a cure for what ails you–especially finding kick ass shoes at a great price.
My advice–take the hairy old dude up on his offer. It’d be worth it just to see him crying like a baby when you got back;-)
August 27th, 2007 at 8:40 am
I’ve been contemplating a move to Cali, via Husband’s job. It’s a HUGE move. And now you’ve scared me.
All kidding aside (but not kidding on the move), this too shall pass.
Ask your Mom. She’ll tell you.
August 27th, 2007 at 10:17 am
Shopping with kids is a PITA no matter what age I swear it only gets worse. I taught my son to keep his hands in is pockets at ALL time while in a store. While this will not help with whining and running, it will help remarkably with breakage. (we live in one of those high priced tourist trap kind of towns where light bulbs are 15.00 each)
Transitions are hard. This will pass and you’ll be so glad you made the move and survived the first months. Remember when you first got married… yeah like that. Without make up sex…
August 27th, 2007 at 10:42 am
I know how upset you are and yet, you still managed to make this pretty amusing.
The bottom line? This freaking sucks. Yeah, it won’t last forever and when the time flies by and Emma is on the phone giving you the “get the hell out of my face” look - you’ll regret feeling this way, but it still stinks right now.
You have been in one hell of a pressure cooker for MONTHS… go sit in the shower, sob your eyes out until you nearly choke, then get out, have a drink, and uh… maybe another drink… then shop online with me!
August 27th, 2007 at 11:32 am
I guess in a few weeks you will have to ask your boss for a personal day–while your kids are in daycare or school and…. well…. GO SHOPPING!
August 27th, 2007 at 11:43 am
avitable: I don’t mind duct tape. In fact, if you can actually get them on it, I’d like detailed instructions on how you managed it.
usedtobeme: it will get better because they get older and move away…. or because you some how figure this shit out? Please, please God tell me B.
Mr. Fab: Yes. And Apple Juice.
And then, possibly, when you’re not looking… two small children.
Turnbaby: yeah… I’m thinking next weekend is all about bonding with Uncle Avitable.
J.: oh crap - if this is the part where I tell you to be brave and it’ll be OK and as long as you have each other…
Um…look! over there! :whistle:
Fogspinner: at least with makeup sex I don’t have to wait.
AmyD: the problem with online shopping is no impulse thrill. You search, you compare, you find, you click and then!
You wait…
It’s just not the same rush as WEEEEE! A BAG!!!!
August 27th, 2007 at 11:46 am
You know, I like how you call me “Mr.” Fab. I don’t get much respect anymore.
August 27th, 2007 at 11:50 am
I think you either leave the younguns with “Mr. & Mrs. Avitable” (I love that, I think I will use it all the time) for a couple of hours, or you find contact your local American Red Cross, see if they do certified babysitting courses. If they do, get the list, find a babysitter for 3-4 hours on a weekend. Go shopping! Call me, I will drive over and go with you.
August 27th, 2007 at 1:20 pm
@TrishK
What an awesome idea!!
August 27th, 2007 at 1:23 pm
The hardest part of moving away is loss of worry-free, guilt-free child care. I moved to K:entucky for a year when my oldest were 3 & 1 for ex-hubby’s job. I got pregnant 4 months later and moved home within a couple months of baby girl’s arrival. It is harder than you expect, but you already know that… it gets easier as they get older… just DON’T GET PREGNANT for at least a year!
Maybe treat yourself to dinner before picking kids up.. then you get a little breather and you won’t be fixing dinner both exhausted AND famished…. Actually… some pizza delivery, chinese take-out, etc. may alleviate just a little of your exhaustion… Marie Callendar’s pot pies are really good!
Cut corners where you can for just a little bit while you get settled and until you get a ME day.
August 27th, 2007 at 3:10 pm
I say you get your husband to watch them on his off days and take some time for yourself. And I like the Mr. & Mrs. Avitable idea too.
August 27th, 2007 at 5:53 pm
I really think Adam should provide day care. He can empty the pool, put them in there, and Jigsaw can keep an eye on them.
August 27th, 2007 at 5:56 pm
Gawd… if you’re ever back up in the Chicago area you could just grab holta my wife… she’s a shopping professional and would gladly help you get out of that no-shopping funk. I’d say the Mrs is downright therafuckingPUTIC when it comes to the female shopping gene!
August 27th, 2007 at 6:27 pm
Mr. Fab: I thought you liked it when I called you Dirty Boy?? :unsure:
TrishK: your application is in the mail.
AmyD: that is pretty smart, actually.
Annie: I wasn’t prepared to the impact the guilt-free sitting was going to have. What’s that say about my mothering I wonder?
Lynda: No, No. MR. Avitable is in charge of the kiddies. MRS Avitable is on shopping patrol.
Mr. Fab: now that is brilliant. Except my kids are screamers… :whistle:
RW:
Did you just say fuck?!?!
BTW - I knew your wife would be a good shopper. Just one more thing I like about her.
August 27th, 2007 at 6:52 pm
Really? I remembered that YOU were a screamer….
August 27th, 2007 at 7:18 pm
Avitable has lots of cool toys that kids would totally love! Screw daycare, take ‘em to work with you! :cheesy:
August 27th, 2007 at 9:10 pm
“What I need… what I really, really need… is to shop. Really, really shop. Oh dear God to I need a bargain hunting spree soooo badly right now.”
That’s the Quote of the Month. No doubt.
And did you say YOU were whining recently? Ha! Amateur!
;-)
August 27th, 2007 at 11:37 pm
Even better!
August 28th, 2007 at 1:13 am
Mr. Fab: Pfft. -10 pts for creativity. It’s an obvious guess that I would be a screamer.
Dave2: Oh my dear God NOOOOOO! Then I would NEVER be away from them EVER!!
Plus, Emma is scared of Adam’s “toys”.
Rich: yours isn’t whining. Yours is very legitimate fear and shitting of the pants.
Lynda: the best!
August 28th, 2007 at 8:37 am