Date: April 24, 2015
Party People: Laura (35)
Brian (35)
JDub (2 years, 11 months)
The Mutts (old and stinky)
5:50 Brian and I are both jolted from deep sleep to shrieks from the hallway: "My clock turned green, my clock turned green!!!" I had a particularly rough day yesterday (actually the whole week sucked), so Brian kindly got up with Jonathan and let me snooze.
7:15 I must have really needed that snooze because I never sleep this late. I roll out of bed, just in time for a certain mini human to barrel through the door. "Mama, mama! I broke this! (a ball). I broke it yesterday! See?! Yeah, it was awesome!" Lots of chit chat as we walk downstairs. Actually, JDub jumps down every step. I get some coffee and join the guys in the living room for Paw Patrol. JW offers me his blankie so sweetly -- "Here Mama, this one's for you. It's dry." We all chat and sing. Eventually J gets in a little spat with Brian about his upcoming birthday: "No, I'm not turning 3 Daddy, I'm 2!!! I'm twoooooo!!!"
8:00 Brian brings me one of my favorite comfort foods -- buttered toast. So simple. So good. Brian and JDub start wrestling (a new daily favorite), which leads to a pillow fight. Jonathan is just beaming with glee and giggles. "Do it again, Daddy! Do it again, Daddy!" "Haayyyaww!! Hayaw!" I love watching them and am so thankful Brian understands this type of testosterone-infused play. I'm perfectly content to just sit here, so I don't really get the drive to ram/hit/bounce/chop/etc. But I love watching them, and they crack me up. Honey and I agree that it's a guy thing. Eventually, J gets frustrated, but I'm not sure what it's about. Brian gets it. Guys.
9:00 We finally potty the dogs. The poor beasts are seriously neglected lately. I feel bad for them, especially because they're so forgiving and patient. Still wagging their tails like normal. Brian and I talk about what I can do with J this morning, and he convinces me that the trampoline park is a good idea. I agree. I text a neighbor to see about meeting there and start getting myself ready for the day. J plays in the dirt and drives his car with the dogs. B gets showered too and then heads out to his office.
10:00 JDub and I get in the car and head toward the trampoline park. He is extra chatty in the car. I smile and chuckle, but since I didn't write it down during the moment, I've forgotten what he was saying. Darn! We stop for gas at the most loathed gas station in America. The engineers clearly did not consult with me when they designed the lay-out. I despise this place. I really do hate it, but my venomous hostility is probably due to all the grief. Anyway, as I'm gassing up, J sees a Pommeranian sticking his head out of the window next to us. "Look Mama! It's a cat!" I die laughing. The dog is really cute and does some bouncing around in the car. J loves this and squeels with laughter. Simple pleasures.
10:30 We arrive at the bouncy place. I try to find our neighbor, but no such luck. There are mini humans everywhere. They're running and chasing each other like ants. And there are tons of moms on the sidelines, most of them either pregnant or with a baby in an ergo. They're all chatting with one another. I want to be like them. I want to glamorously hold a venti Starbucks while I pat an ergo baby. I want to have those "deep" conversations with other moms about life with two ... or life with three. But I'm quickly reminded that I have more important (and maybe actually more fun? if we're all being honest?) things to do. "Jump with me, Mama! Come and get me!" I start chasing him, and we play a two year-old version of dodgeball. JW's squeels are contagious, and I'm cracking up. It's so fun to bounce! But soon enough, other kids keep coming over to play with me (not Jonathan, the cute kid ... me, the 35 year-old crazy lady). I'm pretty annoyed. I smile and act nice, and I even throw balls for them. But I'm thinking "Go get your Starbucks mom to play with you, kid!" My attitude is abysmal these days.
We jump for a long time and then go into the foam block pit. I kept my eye out for our neighbor, but we must have just kept missing each other. Eventually, it's time to go. I heave myself out of the block pit (way harder than it looks, people!). I am sweating like a whore in church. My hair feels like I just ran through a hurricane. I'm sure I look terrifying, especially compared to all the "perfect" Starbucks moms on the sidelines. Whatever. Jonathan and I had a blast.
11:30 We head home. J works on a baba while we drive but refuses the lunch I brought for him. I don't really blame him. I didn't realize we had run out of peanut butter, so I had smashed up some banana between two slices of bread and tried to convince him it was "a delicious nana sammie!!" He didn't buy it. Within seconds of polishing off his bottle, he asks "Do I have to stay awake, Mama?" Umm, yes! Yes indeed you do! For most of the drive, he cries "I don't want to keep my eyes open!! I don't waaaaannnnttt tooooooo!!!!!" I repeatedly assure him that although it's really hard to keep your eyes open when you're sleepy, I know you can do it because you're such a strong boy! He doesn't buy it. But at least we make it home without sabatoging nap time. Thank God.
12:00 Brian greets us at the door, and J explains "I was crying and screaming for my eyes, Daddy!" I feel terrible that he hasn't had lunch, but he can barely keep his eyes open on Brian's shoulder. They head upstairs for books. I start the oven for our new obsession -- Papa Murphy's pizza. Mmm! Brian gets back downstairs, we chat about his practice, and we set up a war station. It's my heavy grading weekend. Fun times. The pizza is amazing. We eat and work and chat. Brian gets to hear some of the ridiculous frantic last-minute end-of-the-semester student voicemails that come through. His reactions crack me up. These people, I tell ya. I start doing a bit of grading, but I'm so not in the mood for it. Blogging sounds much better. So I write up what's happened so far today. As usual for a DITL post, Jonathan has an extra long happy nappy. I do not complain. But I assure you, people, this is not normal!!
4:00 Brian is done with the work day. Yay!! B cracks open a red for me and gets one of his new fancy beers for himself. J distributes all his blankies to each of us, including Teddy. We sit on the patio as J runs through the yard with the dogs. The jasmine growing on the vine is in full bloom and smells like absolute heaven. At some point, Brian starts a fire. Jonathan runs through the yard collecting sticks for the fire and desperately wants to spray it out with the spray bottle. He finally accepts that he can be a fireman when we're done with the fire. I become completely obsessed with the gorgeous clouds and take a zillion pictures (with filters, obvs). Somewhere in here while I'm filtering pictures, B takes a picture of me staring at my phone and IGs it. Comments start rolling about how I've got my face stuffed in the phone while my child plays with fire. HAHA! I have priorities, people, I have priorities.
5:00 We decide a campfire breakfast sounds like a marvelous dinner. So Brian cooks applewood smoked bacon in a cast iron skillet over the fire. With eggs. And potatoes. Aside from the jasmine growing on the vine, I dare you to name a better smell than bacon sizzling over a campfire. Wowzers! Dinner is amazing, especially being outside.
6:00 JDub convinces us to let him be a fireman, so he goes to town spraying the fire with the spray bottle. Loves every second of it. Power. Yes. I head inside to do the dishes. While I'm unloading the dishwasher, a wave of grief hits me. I cry, and tears hit the clean plates. I think about how much I love my life. Who gets to do this? Jump on a trampoline. Do minimal work. Have financial stability. Play with the cutest kid in the world. Have the best looking and most amazing husband in the world. Eat dinner in a fabulous back yard. Who? I live the kind of life that most people only dream of. I'm the most fortunate person I know (not to rub it in, but seriously). There's not a day that goes by that I'm not consciously thankful for the amazing life I have. And yet my heart aches. How could 2 more rounds of IVF fail? How could God create all those embryos and then just kill them? Why can "everyone else" have as many kids as they want? But I can't. My heart still longs for more. What's wrong with me? Why can I not be content having an only child? I wish I could simply be happy with the my awesome life and just move past all the IVF failures. But I want more kids. I probably always will. I'll probably be an 80 year-old lady someday, dreaming about how it would have been so fun to have a big family with big family gatherings and holidays. And lots of grandchildren. It's just in me. I want more. But I can't have more.
6:30 My pity party is interrupted by an adorable toddler barging through the door proclaiming "I went pee in the bushes, Mama!!" Ha! Wipe my tears and laugh. We settle on the couch with a baba, cartoon, and computers. Daniel Tiger on the iPad for J. Work emails for B. Blog catch-up for me. JDub randomly declares, "I smell like ME!" We all die laughing.
7:15 Toofie-brushing time. And B wants to read through the blog so far. We sit together and read what I've written so far. He takes delight in all of it, but he especially cracks up at the 'sweating like a whore in church' line. We have a sentimental moment about my grief. J insists on another wrestle mania fest with Daddy, and he tries to go all
8:00 Freedom! Brian is sprawled out on the couch. I ask him what he wants to watch tonight, and he responds with "Hmm. Well, whatever we watch will be logged into blogger infinity. So ..." I tell him that I'm absolutely quoting that in the blog, and we crack up. We settle on The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Mildly funny. Brian falls asleep snuggling my arm, and we both get kinks. It's worth it.
9:00 Potty the dogs and lock up. Head to bed. I'm glad (as always) that I documented this day. I know I'll be happy to have this treasure, and it's always a great reminder of how much joy is packed into the mundane details of life. The days go by so fast that I forget so much. But these quarterly posts help me remember how the little nuances and how wonderful they are. My heart is broken right now, but I have hope that it will eventually heal. And my life is truly great. I go to bed feeling thankful.
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