Suppose, one day, I actually got my sh!t together. Would I get a medal?
-MC 900 Ft. Jesus
Lately, the logistics of life are really starting to get to me.
Use to be, work was the pressure cooker. I'd go home to be the hero – help the boy, cook a meal, spring for pizza –whatever.
Then home life got the baton, and so going to work was the place where I'd exhale and shake it off.
Now they're both dialing up the pain – and well, I'm not likin' it.
The doomsday project at work has detonated to a colossal degree. I've had fellow team members asking "to review" my past work documents. They're nice and polite – but it's clearly a CYA audit.
"Mind if I review these?" (i.e. The boss has ordered me to review your work to determine if you've screwed up, where you've screwed up and how badly you've screwed us.)
It's not personal and everyone is polite – but it's hard not to feel like the accused in some legal proceeding. "Anything else I can get you?"
"No, this is fine." And besides, we have all the digital files; I'm just here for the hardcopy.
So there's that.
At home, the boy is an enthusiastic three – making simple things complicated and complicated things impossible. Baby E is mobile and doing all the things that make 'child-proofing' seem like such a laughable term.
E and I are just on the verge of a nap at most moments of the day. We have given into the dark side and let our children watch their shows just so we can get time to do chores, get downtime, or just lie on the couch in a drooling heap.
We are closing on our house soon – and this freight train of a fact has a number of equally large problems in tow.
Financing the deal is becoming far too interesting. The lending rate that all the advice sites assured me would rise – has plummeted. So we need to back out of our earlier rate lock and sign another batch of forms. I'd like this to be done – but there are still a few more variables in play that could have us squaring our financing mere days before we close.
Closing – we need to decide on how best to finance – given some of our down payment is in investments that are (even as I type) down about 10% from where they should be. Using these funds means we eat the loss. Not using them means we will have a larger mortgage payments that will need to be paid in part from investments. Making fixed monthly payments using an ever-fluctuating amount of money is not an idea I am fond of.
Then there's the remodel – originally we'd planned on overhauling the kitchen before we moved in – this will not happen. We will now move in in a heap – and attempt two minor projects in a hurry, and do the kitchen after we're there. This means we will be without a kitchen for a good chunk of time.
Snapping back to this past weekend.
I needed to get out of the house and goof off – so I did. The forces of the universe had arranged that this activity would occur after we drove down to the house to make some measurements for the kitchen, drop off some bank paperwork, and buy groceries for brunch tomorrow.
Oh yeah, brunch. See, the Boy was talking the other day about having his cousins over to "the impartment" and E decided to make it happen. This means that Jen and her husband will come over and they will see –
Well, the total sh!tpit that E and I usually inhabit. At the point that I connect the dots on this, both kids are asleep in the back of the minivan and E and I are considering picking up coffee. E, of course has done this particular math already – but given that I will be out all night with friends, she'll be home with two kids, and my sister's family will be ringing our doorbell in less than 24 hours-
I was having one of those smash-zoom TV storyboard sequences in my head:
- mounds of dirty dishes in both sinks (we have nothing to cook with)
- junk mail, old socks, and dried food stains covering our table (no place to eat)
- laundry everywhere (on couches, the kitchen floor)
- the doorbell ringing
- scrambling to open the gate while food burns on the stove
- Jen and family politely refusing to act horrified at the sights and smells they-
-You get the gist.
Now, my sister is not a white glove kind of person, but it's hard to fess up to family that your average day is spent in a sleep-deprived haze while everything falls apart around you. Add to this that Jen is the kind of person who just gets it done. Granted, she is a stay at home mom – but she has many other challenges.
Frankly, running a house with two children makes a day job look like vacation and somehow Jen always manages to have things under control. When we're over, it's pretty seamless: there are things for guests to do – food for them to eat, and Jen never looks like she's got a care in the world.
This is why I'm imagining a sort of culture shock awaiting her as she plunges into the unending chaos that has defined our life lately.
Despite this, I go out and goof off. Mental health and all. I'm back around midnight and E's still up. Our house is still a pit, but the kids are in bed and we have groceries. E and I crank for awhile and pass out.
Morning turns into one of those "denial of reality" moments.
I'm not here. There is no brunch. Perhaps if I refuse to move out of bed this madness will stop.
Reality is not impressed.
E (who walks on water by the way) allows me to sleep in until 9am. This is Nobel Prize material in our household. Jen's ETA is 11:30.
We start. E gets the kitchen set, I start hiding the bodies in the living room. E's making her family's scone recipe and a frittata. I lamely get the sausages started and perform a few other semi helpful activities. I don't remember most of them – I think I was asleep.
The Boy insists on pouring coffee for the guests, even though they won't be here for an hour. No amount of explaining will convince him otherwise. "Dad! I need to pour the coffeeeEE!
Then he starts serving E's fruit bowl with his hands, putting huge amounts of fruit on every plate.
It's starting to unravel. We had a chance for a second, and then -
Ding dong.
They're here.
At this point, I'm figuring we'll survive, but the kids will all have to kneel around the coffee table and I'm thinking they won't want to eat anything we have. Then they'll be bored because we don't have enough to do and we only have the crappy coffee, because the stuff I bought was whole bean and the grinder's in storage and-
---And it goes great. There was nothing to worry about. E's scones are awesome, the frittata is awesome. The kids have no issues because they have something to do: play with their cousins.
Kids occupied = time to relax and chat, so we do. It's indescribably cathartic. Baby E is having a good time, the Boy and his cousins are goofing off watching Supernanny (yeah, I know – but what the hell, eh?)
E totally rocks. I was so dreading this, and this was such a good time.
Now I'm wondering if we just don't have enough company, because for awhile there, we actually had our sh!t together.