Three day weekends… they are AMAZING and they wreak havoc on my marriage. Sigh. The good with the bad, they are my constant ying and yang and if I can’t laugh at them and call them what they are they will eat me alive. I think.
Anyways – first the bad. I feel like when I am given too much time I am a freaking MESS. A mess a mess a mess. I lose my mind. Weekends in my house are for prepping the upcoming week. It is grocery shopping and laundry, resting and recharging, long walks and slow(er) mornings. But the 3 day… it throws me. It makes me feel like I have way more time than I actually have. I put things off. What grocery shopping? Until I am starving to death and we only have some walnuts and some frozen hashbrowns as viable food options. So then I we end up ordering food, eating things we shouldn’t, and suffering the consequences all night long. You’d think I would have learned my lesson on Friday, but no. Yesterday evening we were still agonizing over every food choice.
“But I don’t WANT to eat that. We have NOTHING.”
“Well then let’s go buy something.”
“But that will take too long and I am starving… STARVING… right now.”
“What about oatmeal?”
“I hate oatmeal.”
“No you don’t.”
“I don’t want oatmeal for dinner!”
Meltdown meltdown food meltdown.
But wait! That’s not all! There’s more…
Three days is a long time for Kamel and I to be staring at each other saying, “What do you want to do? I dunno, what do you want to do? I dunno, what do you want to do? I want to do X. Really? I don’t want to do X. Oh.. well… why not? Because I don’t and X is stupid, I want to do Y, let’s do Y. But I don’t want to do Y.” And so on and so forth. We could enjoy our time together. We could take advantage of the extra day, go to the zoo, take extra long walks, watch movies, etc. And we DO do some of that (haha do-do), but by day 3 we are done. It happens every time. We reach our limit of unorganized free time spent at home, and then we self implode and want to kill each other. It doesn’t lend itself to a positive last-day-before-heading-into-the-hellfire-that-is-the-work-week, but there it is – the bad.
The good! There was good! Kamel took the baby for an hour and I got to stay in bed and READ! For an entire hour! Oh man it was amazing. It was almost like the times before pregnancy, before baby, where life was not about taking turns holding the cute, wiggly, squawking bowling ball so that the other one could have 10 minutes of fierce productivity. I read in bed! And then I wandered out to see what the boys were up to and it was heaven.
Know this people without babies: revel in your lounging time, soak up all of the reading-in-bed time you can! Read in bed every single day because once the babies come those joys are few and far between (But dare I say sweeter!).
What else happened? Well! We finally saw Django! After at least 3 attempts while I was pregnant to make it to the theatre, 3 failed attempts, and then many many times where we thought about renting it only to shake our heads at the long running time because, “there is no way in hell this baby is going to let us watch a movie that long,” we did it! We finally did it! Hail the conquering hero!
Oh. And then the baby laughed. Like a real laugh, not just a sqweeee, but a gurgly laugh-laugh. And I have it on video and it is amazing and now I want him to do nothing but laugh. Clearly I set attainable goals for myself and my family. Clearly.
Also: The farmers market. We rocked it. And Gabe slept through the whole fucking thing to our delight. We bought carrots that are the sweetest most fragrant carrots I have ever eaten, we bought yellow beets (Yellow!!), we bought raw almonds, amazing salsa from this lady who was really really stoked about her homemade salsa and I wanted to hug her, AND we had this amazing exchange at the salsa stand:
[Kamel is standing directly in front of the stand, I am off to the side with the stroller so as not to block the way]
Lady: Would you like to try the pineapple salsa?
Kamel: Mm… no thank you, but what is that other red one you have?
Lady: Oh that is watermelon salsa, it is surprisingly refreshing!
Me: Oooo try that one, Kamel!
[Guy walks up behind Kamel and the salsa lady acknowledges him. She also hands Kamel a chip with the watermelon salsa.]
Guy: What? I can’t hear you with these people in my way.
[The lady repeats herself and explains a few of the salsas while handing Kamel a chip with the watermelon salsa on it]
Me: How did you like the watermelon one?
Kamel: Mm… I like the really hot red one better.
[In the mean time the lady is assisting the man, he has tired the pineapple salsa and is contemplating the others.]
Me: Ok, then should we get the green one and the red one?
Kamel to the woman: How much are each of these?
Lady: 5 dollars.
Guy: Uh do you have any that aren’t so sweet, I mean I know the pineapple is supposed to be sweet, but any that are less sweet? [He tries to get closer to the table, but it is small and Kamel is standing directly in front.]
[The salsa lady offers up the more savory/spicy options to the man.]
[I tap Kamel on the shoulder and he steps closer to me to give the guy more room at the stand. Kamel and I are discussing how many salsas to purchase.]
Guy: Yeah well… I guess when you have a kid you think you rule the land, right?
Me: …. Seriously?! [I said just a little too loudly on purpose, and to which the guy pointedly ignored.]
[Lady makes eye contact with me, clearly giving me the “What an ass hole!” look. I am then relieved that it wasn’t just me, that yes this guy was a total dick.]
We ended up getting both the green and the red salsa (if you were kept on the edge of your seat with that one) and that was my first of (probably) many interactions with a jerk who thinks it is ok to be rude to us because we have kids. Yay! The most confusing part: I realize that there are people in the world who are a little clueless or entitled while wielding the power of the stroller or who think because they have kids they are entitled to extra things, extra time, extra space, and a reprieve from rule-following. But I am exactly the opposite of that. I am ultra aware of taking up too much room, of not wanting to be in people’s way, of not wanting to impose my screaming child on random people’s lovely days. My child is my responsibility, not your burden, and not something (god willing) you have to to put up with. So that was interesting.
Three day weekends, man… they are a trip if nothing else.