Monday, April 21, 2008

Why My House is Dirty and Why I Will (Learn to) Not Care

This past weekend was my annual girls' weekend with the lil' dude's "aunties". It was, per us., a blast. We shopped, drank, drank, drank, ate, drank, gossiped, laughed, and danced. As a new mama, I am learning episodes like girls' weekend in my life will make me a better mother. When the hangover(s) subside, that is . . .

I returned home yesterday around noon. I was delighted to see the Dad and the snoozin' babe in her swing. I unpacked and put on sweats and showed the Dad the things I bought for the lil' dude. "Buy anything for yourself?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"Umm, booze, I guess."

Within minutes, the lil' dude woke up. I scooped her up and we played and talked about her Saturday at home with dad, how she wore her pj's for two straight days, and how she got to go get milk, the paper, and OJ at the corner gas station. I relinquished the kisses her aunties wished to bestow on her, and showed her the fun new things I brought home for her. Then, I put her on the floor so I could start crossing things of my to-do list.

She was pretty occupied for long enough for me to vacuum, sweep, shake the rugs, clean the kitchen, and upstairs bathroom. I took a break to load her in her stroller to head out to buy brownie ingredients in the delicious sunshine. When we came home, I positioned her into the corner of the rocking-recliner so I could finish my list.

The Dad, still possessed by the baby bug, sat in the sunny window blowing his nose and trying to nap.

As I preheated the oven for the brownies, the lil' dude began to wail. Emphatically.
I put her pluggie into her mouth. Still wailing. Real tears began to spurt from her sad eyes.

I stoked her fuzz-head. "Why are you so sad, lil' dude?"

"She misses her mom," the Dad offered.

I looked at him. I looked at the sad, pink baby in the recliner. Instead of feeling defensive about how I needed to get things done at home before another busy work-week and how I felt I maybe needed to redeem myself and house and family for spending the whole day prior, playing, I felt . . . that he was right. He was absolutely right.

So, I shut the lights off in the kitchen and above the stove and settled the lil' dude onto my lap in our fave chair. I grabbed her green star blanket, and we cuddled.

For two hours. I loved every minute of it and so did my once-again contented little girl.

The bottom half of my house is still dirty. I am learning to not care.
My to-do list is not complete. I am learning to not care.

1 comment:

Libby said...

You've found it. I have learned as a mommy sometimes if you just stop and hug, roll a ball, watch part of a "mooey" or just look them right in the eye and say "what honey? You've got all my attention"...sometimes that's all they need...sometimes, after that, they can just be again.
Love your stories!