Sunday, October 03, 2004

Dog Vomit at 5am

Here’s another entry from my glamorous life:

5:30am Thursday: I stumble downstairs to find piles of dog vomit strategically placed around the living room -– between couch cushions, on the carpet. The only surfaces spared are the hardwoods. They, of course, being easiest to clean. But I’m one step ahead of my little furry friend. Last night at midnight, seeing him lick the floor and then race outside to eat grass and knowing what this meant, I put old sheets on the couches. Still, it’s no fun cleaning chunks of grass and pasty vomit from sheets either. So I stuck them in the sink in the laundry room. Back to bed where I can’t sleep. Daniel isn’t awake yet. He’s gone eight hours with only a few wakeups and no feedings. Yahoo. I may still be sleep-deprived but things are looking up.

7:30am: The usual – my boobs are out. They’re always out these days. No, my life isn’t a constant Mardis Gras party. I’m a food source. They’re like udders. Only perkier. I feed Daniel and play with him. But my dirty little secret is that I want him to take a nap so that I can too.

8:40am: He naps. I nap. Murphy, nothing left in his stomach to throw up, naps.

10:30am: I drive 45 minutes to visit anotherhomebound mom and play with her twins. They’re two and adorable. Daniel hangs out too. We talk about poop and eat chicken quesadillas. Then it’s time to go.

2pm: Home. Daniel’s sleeping.

Now I sit typing wondering who else out there will understand or even care. Other moms? Of course. They’re the only ones. But what about the moms-to-be-one-day, those single women in their twenties and thirtieswho don’t know what they’re in for Will they read this and say, “Yes, this will be me someday?” No chance. They’ll go out with their group of friends and bitch about their latest bad dates and sip their wine and say, “I read this thing the other day about this mom that totally couldn’t handle things. When I have kids I’m going to keep moving up that corporate ladder and spend quality time with my child who will never cry all night. And what’s more, no dog of mine will ever throw up.”

And to them I say – “Ladies, I used to be you. That’s right. I was cool and hip and hung out in trendy eateries. And marriage and babies were, while coveted, pictured in a sort of whitewashed, lovely , we’ll-have-a-loft-in-manhattan-and-three-maids-and-I’ll-always-look-perfect-and-carry-my-baby-around- easily-like-arm-jewelry kind of way. And I’m here to tell you that one day you’ll be me with spit-up on all your clothes and comfortable shoes that you bought during pregnancy because your feet were killing you and you’ll be lucky if you get to shower once a day while baby coos in his bouncy seat and you’ll never, ever get to do your hair again. GOT IT? I WAS YOU. AND YOU, ONE DAY, WILL BE ME (followed by evil cackle).

The truth is is that while I may complain, I wouldn’t change this for anything in the world. Well, maybe I’d take that nanny that lives in my fantasy world. And a lucrative book deal. And a live-in hairdresser, chef and personal assistant.


At October 12, 2004 at 2:17 PM, Blogger jessica said...

I can't relate to the dog puke, though we did have a dog for about a week last year and he peed everywhere (grown dog, not a puppy) and barked at my toddling daughter so eventually I had to take him back to the pound and throw myself, sobbing (literally) at the mercy of the dog pound workers in an attempt to not have the worst karma on the face of the planet. but i digress.

i read your post and enjoyed it. my new life is now nearly four years old and still as fraught with periods of serious funkin' (and not the disco diva kind) and random bouts of wanderlust and all that entails.

keep writing and i'll keep reading!

At October 28, 2004 at 10:33 PM, Blogger • zarrin • said...

i'm almost twenty, and i find your journal fascinated. granted, the topic on hand scares me (little kids are meant for the fun and cute times, they're returned to their mums when they start to become unfun), but your writing style is quite enjoyable :)


Post a Comment

<< Home