Ah, I remember getting married. It was such a happy day. Dressed in frothy white, tiara-topped perfect hair, being the center of attention. Hell, I had people falling over me just to straighten my dress. Sparkling diamonds on my fingers, fizzing champagne glasses being replaced in my hand as soon as one was empty. These days I feel as if my wedding day was eons ago. I remember giddily standing before the pastor and across from husband pledging to love him "til death do us part." Really, the words should have been "until we have a baby and I want to stab your eye out with a fork because I have to explicitly ask you to do every damn little thing." Yes, my husband should be a mind reader, and I think that is a perfectly normal request. Gone is the white frothy dress, my smallest-ever dress size and perky little breasts that looked oh-so-cute in my sweetheart neckline. I now have a post-baby body including 2 huge milk machines that inhabit my chest region, and a husband who makes me fantasize about using cutlery in a whole new way.
What no one tells you is that communication becomes key once having a baby. I love B! I love that we have B. What I don't love is having to ask my husband to do things instead of him innately knowing what I need. As I nurse B to sleep upstairs every night, my husband happily sprawls out on the couch and watches Law and Order reruns. When I come downstairs and begin the nightly clean-up ritual he lazily calls out "Sit down. Relax." Oh, how lovely that would be! But bottles need washing and toys need to be put away. So instead I storm around downstairs and mumble "Gee, how nice it must be to come downstairs and relax!" As I type this (after my nightly clean-up) my husband is happily watching Animal House and calling out at random moments "This is the best part!" "No! This is the best part!" "Babe, are you watching?!" Stereotypical? Yes, between scraping spit up off the floor and scrubbing bottles, I am enjoying John Belushi in a toga. Note, dripping sarcasm.
But now, I am tired, the house is clean and my husband is starting to fall asleep. I could start another argument...but really, I haven't seen the Real Housewives of New Jersey in 2 weeks. And Sam and Ronnie are back to their shennanigans, and I have fingers crossed for more bed-throwing, property-bashing scenes. Not to mention that Sookie and Eric just hooked up in True Blood and I must, must, must see what happens with that crazy-ass witch. So, start a battle or stealthily steal the remote control and hijack the DVR? I'm choosing option B tonight. Besides, the silverware will be there tomorrow night...
