All the hype. All the build-up. Alas, my birthday (aka Date Night III) blew serious chunks.
On Saturday, Chuck and I dropped Junior off at my mother’s then had lunch at my favorite Indian restaurant. We even had a gift certificate from good ole Granny. But after stuffing ourselves full of Chicken Tikka Masala, garlic naan and a carafe of wine, we both looked like we were expecting.
The ensuing espressos and cloves were mere stupidity. As was the shot of Jack.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of me asking Chuck what he wanted to do and him telling me he didn’t care, it was my day.
My day. It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? A whole day to do whatever the hell I wanted. But there was one problem. I didn’t know what the hell to do! Something was off. I couldn’t shake the blech. The blah. The macaroni brain. So Chuck did what every good husband does when his wife is behaving like a freakazoid: He took me to the outlets.
And that’s when I started behaving like a psychotic mother in a Lifetime movie. It was like every little kid had a marshmallow head, and I wanted to eat it. Was the little boy in front of us Junior’s age? What words was he saying? Would his parents mind if I held him and called him Junior? Could I please smell his hair and kiss his fat cheeks?
The evil voices in my brain started telling me that my mother had tricked me into thinking I’d like some alone time with my husband and to sleep late. She didn’t care about me. She just wanted Junior all to herself! She just wanted me to suffer!
Can you guess what happened next?
Why, yes, of course. Chuck smacked some sense into me, we went home, etc., etc., watched the entire first season of Weeds, had a birthday toast, etc., etc. and slept until 11:30 the next morning, around which time my mother brought my child back to me and my wonderful husband served me breakfast in bed.
All of this leads me to believe that actually being 34 is going to be fine. It was the damn metamorphosis bullshit that sucked balls*.
Wow, does anyone else see a Hallmark card somewhere in there?
*It could also be seasonal affective disorder (SAD) or my potassium levels or maybe, just maybe, I have become every obsessed mother I ever mocked.
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14 comments:
We all turn into our mothers eventually. That doesn't mean we can't fight it every step of the way!
I don't even remember what I did for my last birthday. It was either THAT DULL, or senility is setting in early.
It's sooo funny that when we finally get the time to do what "we" want to do...we can't think of anything to do!
It is always tough leaving your little one. Well, I think it would be tought considering that rarely happens for me. Of course, mine are older and therefore easier to leave but I still dont get to do it. ok, I admit it....Im jealous. Dinner out, shopping and you got to sleep late. 3 of my favorite things.
You should have had banana bread for dessert and you'd have been fine! Birthdays in your 30's are just not what they used to be. But HAPPY BIRTHDAY anyhow. Now doesn't that make you feel better?
My hubby doesn't even like to take me to the grocery store, let alone the outlets :)
I miss Katie when I'm not with her--and it is getting worse the older she becomes... I'm having anxiety about putting her in preschool--my family is seriously counseling me on this. I think it's only natural to miss your children when they aren't with you-even if it is a date night...
I think Chuck made the ultimate sacrifice, taking you to the outlets.
As Junior gets older, you will enjoy some time away from him. You will still miss him, but you will be able to take advantage of your own time. I remember one of my first outings when my youngest was a baby. My husband and I didn't know what to do with ourselves. I seem to remember wandering the streets of South Norwalk, CT in a daze, trying to figure out what I should be doing with myself. I promise, it gets better.
Ha. It happens.
Oh, Happy Birthday too - you young thing you. :)
I never know what to do on my actual birthday ever, so we celebrate it on another day...close but not the exact day, and that works pretty well, though it is weird, I admit.
So I could relate to this a lot.
It sounds like you were suffering from detoxation from motherhood!
Not knowing what you want, being without the children and suddenly seeing them everywhere.
You had all the symptoms!
Good thing you had your husband with you to help! He sounds like an insightful guy!
I dunno. Sounds like a fun day to me. At my age, anything that involved breakfast (or lunch, or supper) in bed sounds like fun.
Two rounds of "etc., etc."?! Happy birthday to you!
When our boys were in daycare, they would have parents' night out when they kept them until 11:30. It never failed - we'd be seated next to the table with the screaming kids. I rarely missed my own!
It is funny how when you plan a night alone with hubby it's hard to think of something to do - and you miss the munchkin...my hubby and I are the same way! Thanks for the laugh! ;)
Yep, Chuck's a gem! I may have, ehem, taken some liberties with the etcs. Just one or three...but yes, sleeping late was divine.
Happy Birthday- a little late but I mean it. And 34 ain't that bad. You are still closer to 30 than 40. And you know that I can't say the same thing!
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