The alarm to my blackberry gently awoke me like soft ocean waves to my restless haze. Hunter, the pariah, slumped horizontally across the bottom half of the bed. Little miss Stevie Day tossed and turned and gurgled and gabbed as she wedged herself between Shane and me, was having a parade of her own. Simultaneously, the bedroom alarm clock blared in clashing synchronicity with my blackberry alarm. It was five thirty in the morning and there was no way I was shoveling my way out of this disarray of a bed to a treadmill at the gym. Lofty in nature, instead of working out on my lunch, I entertained the idea of revving my metabolism at the sound of a rooster’s crow. It didn't seem impossible, I used to go to yoga at six o’clock in the morning from Potrero to the Marina for a year and a half, five days a week, to fulfill the Darth Vader that was my six year relationship. This headstrong idea has been stirring some trouble for a week and I’ve gone once. When I did, I disreputed the household, in turn, Shane was up at six o’clock in the morning cursing my intentions. Did I forget to mention that our two dogs also occupied space on our queen size bed. My husband severely suffered from the Lincoln complex, all men are created equal, screw our dogs, screw equality, I need sleep!
Early last evening, we were hip to the kid’s routine. We quickly Skyped Grandma Colleen in New York, as she was on a 3 hour difference, to make sure she got to see the kids and for Hunter to bid her sweet dreams and bed bugs bite. Kyle, brother in law extrodainnaire, gave Grandma Colleen a webcam for Christmas and 2010 has never been the same.
Hunter shoved Stevie as he was in one of his non-sharing mood, conveniently, non-apologizing mood as well. Instead, he screamed his new vocabulary favorite, a stern, "no, mommy, no," as he threw fists in the air. We simply ignored him. I loathed my parents when they'd enforce apologies, but I did the same with a toddler and an infant. In highschool, I went two years on a non-speaking term with my brother Steven, because he disapproved of my boyfriend. My parents would mediate especially over the holidays to shake hands, hug, to forgive one another in that Roman Catholic way, but I’d rather have swallowed a thousand chards of broken glass then break my code of silence. Here I was enforcing the same rubbish on my kids. Where's the old Shellie? Have you seen her anywhere?
After a few minutes of man handling, or boy handling, to apologize to his little sister. Our cheap version of instilling a good trait for life, we secretly gave in to dinner time. We had to keep to our schedule, otherwise this here boat would capsize. It was orzo with a brown butter sauce for the two kids and roasted rosemary chicken over a bed of french lentils, kale, carrots, and onions for us. Stevie Day blew Hunter out of the water when it came down to eating, hence her healthy growth of a ten month old. Hunter’s very particular and gravitates closely to simple carbohydrates like juice and candy. Hunter maintains a very petite frame that I almost envy. Stevie Day, on the other hand, will mow down on protein, vegetables, and cardboard boxes.
Following dinner, we brushed Hunter’s teeth, pajamas, and plopped him in front of the television for two series of Thomas the Train. He was obsessed with Thomas. Not sure when that came about, because previous to that, he had an obsession with Yo Gaba Gaba. Don’t ask, I won't tell. As he sat in front of the devil box, we geared Stevie Day for bedtime which included a warm bottle of delicious formula, blanket, and darkness. She puts up a big fight with “sleep” harshly tugging on her ears and shaking her head from left to right, right to left until she’s fraught with exhaustion. Unlike Hunter at her age, I couldn’t plop her in the crib with a bottle and drink herself to sleep. She required a bit more couth.
Shane did well in the reading department and did so nightly with Hunter. Besides, those books were at the appropriate reading level of my husband. I never met anyone so boastful of not reading then Shane, then again, it took an army of boyfriends and awkward dates over decade and a half to discover this gentleman. So he doesn’t read, there were other traits on my list of criteria that made it easy for me to overlook. Shane was generous with his reading, sometimes reading over four books or the same book four times.
We’re riddled with lack of space, so we must separate the kids to avoid any disruption. As soon as Hunter is asleep, Stevie Day is then placed in her crib adjacent to Hunter’s toddler bed. Mommyhood is daunting, but someone's gotta do the shiznit. The clock read eight thirty eight. The house's quiet. I ponder the idea of the gym which is conveniently located down the hill off of 16th Street. Instead, I plop on the couch next to my husband and put my feet on the ottoman as he inquires, “what time is Jersey Shore on?”
This is Shellie advising, “tomorrow’s another day, it’s another opportunity to chance,” back to you Bob at the studio.
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