Somehow, toddler giggles and Darwin smiles are making me less tempted by alcohol, late nights and holding grudges. Who is this nice, motherly, non-psycho person I am becoming?? It’s very strange. On Saturday, we had a BBQ at our house, and afterwards, Joe went to Mayfest with some friends. That was at 6:30. At midnight, he came home, pretty much incoherent. Things like “Who did you see at Mayfest?” Were met with responses like “Yes.” When I explained I said “Who,” which usually involves an answer of a name, I got “Don’t pretend that way with me,” or something like that. (I tried several times to re-create the “conversations” I tried to have, but could not fully capture the non-sequitur-ness of the night accurately.) Then, Joe stumbled off to bed, holding tightly onto the wall (and still almost taking a digger in the 10 feet from living room to bedroom). When I came to bed a bit later, I was surprised to find that, contrary to tradition, Joe had not spread out all over the bed and then passed out immovable, so I only had 3 square inches in which to sleep. But, I then realized it was because he had passed out on the floor, fully clothed, next to his side of the bed. Sigh. I was magnanimous and threw a blanket and pillow over the side of the bed around 3am.
But, the point is that the next day, Darwin and I went to church, where Darwin clapped after every choir song, pointed at all the lectors and said “ooooh!” when they got up to read, tried to share his sippy cup with all around us, and was generally super duper cute (one woman actually sought us out after the service and said “I want to babysit him. Tell me when you want to go out to dinner sometime and I’ll come over.” Score!). Then I planted geraniums in the front yard. Then, at 3pm, when Joe was still passed out sleeping off Mayfest, Darwin and I went to the zoo (where he was much more excited about the squirrel and the empty pigpen that was being hosed down than about gnus, kangaroos or gorillas). And you know what? I didn’t even care that Joe was in bed all day, and that I was solo parenting. I didn’t care that Joe was out late whooping it up while I was watching MeTV (no cable. Sigh). I had such a great day with Darwin, and he was so happy and smiling and endearing to strangers, that I was just glad to have the day. Weird, huh?
A part of me is kind of sad about that. I mean, I am really good at drinking and holding grudges, and society tells me that those things are FUN. Desperate Housewives is a lot more fun to watch than Seventh Heaven. And if 5 years ago, someone else would have told me the same story, and said “But I don’t care, because I had such a great day with my son, and am just so thankful for it,” I would have: a) not believed them one whit, and b) felt sorry for their boring life. And had another drink.
But a part of me is really happy about it, too. I really DID have a great day. It was beautiful out, and we live in an awesome city, and Darwin was just a peach the whole day. I had a lot of fun enjoying the city, enjoying the sunshine, and enjoying being a mom, and really feel like Joe missed out, and that’s punishment enough.
I am still making him wash diapers today, though.
