Bass-Ackwards

Hello out there intrepid reader. I know, I know. Its been WAAAY too long since I have posted. And what you ask, has kept me from the keyboard and any relevant updates on this redheads world?

Trading gossip quips with Perez Hilton?
Snark-fest 09’ with Chelsea Lately?
Pilgrimage to LA for MJ’s funeral?
Lounging on the tropical shores of Ibiza with a cocktail in one hand and an attentive pool boy massaging the other one?

Nope – dear reader (or whomever of you out there just might stumble across this post), I have spent the summer in the hum-drum Midwest – nary an ocean or pool boy in sight. Hardly even a big puddle. And what has filled my halcyon summer days here in fly-over country? Work, work, kid, work, the occasional wedding and more work and kid. Yes, the mighty have fallen and they have fallen hard. I have managed an occasional night out or on the porch with a bottle of my favorite grape juice in hand. The only problem with those nights stems from parental rule #82(d) – you can go to bed at 9:30 PM , the kid gets up at 6:30 AM. You can go to bed at 11:15 PM, the kids gets up at 6:30 AM. You can go to bed at 3:00 AM because well, you really needed that 5th bottle of wine and you haven’t looked that sexy in a really long time and – you guessed it – kid doesn’t give a rats ass how sexy you thought you looked at 2:45 AM and gets up at 6:30 AM. This means that the evening out theory has shifted just a smidge. This is not a bad thing in and of itself, just another in the multitude of adjustments a mini-me brings to the table.

So what else is new in my little corner of the world? Well, I have come to the conclusion that when it comes to major life events, we (Joe & I collectively) do things backwards. Like, Bass-Ackwards. I believe there is a somewhat agreed upon order in which your average adult does things. It goes something roughly like this

You meet.
You date.
You fall in love.
You get engaged.
You get married.
You move in together.
You spend a few years in wedded bliss.
You get in a family way
You buy a big house and live happily ever after.

I think you can probably move the “move-in together” portion of programming up a few rungs depending on the situation, but all in all that is how its suppose to be. According to whatever ruling body is in charge of these types of things.

Here is how we do it….
You meet.
You don’t date for like 8 months, you just dance around it.
You finally start “dating” after a serious make out session at a friends after-hours party.
You date for about 7 months officially.
You break up.
You keep seeing each other for oh, a year or so. Even though you are not together.
You discover one day that you are pregnant.
You then decide to move into together.
You have a kid.
You then decide that you moved into a house that was way too big for you at this point.
You downsize so at some point you can buy a house.
You set up savings to buy a house.
And that is as far as we have gotten.

So somewhere in there we will buy the house, oh and we might get married. Eventually. You see where I am going with this? Ass-backwards. It’s like we take all the things in the first list, threw them into a hat and then just pick them out at random. But dammit, we are going to get our happily ever after, just in a round-about sorta way. Details right? Just goes to prove, the best laid plans….

In the little leprechaun department, we are getting really big (7 months) have 2 teeth, sit up on our own, crawl/lunge after anything resembling electronics (the remote, the cell phone) and have plenty of personality to go with all that. Still not sleeping through the night. Not sure we are ever gonna get that one in check. And its not that he is up all night just screaming his head off. No, he is just up. Chatting to whomever will listen and wanting to play. Yep – play. At 3 AM. Its one of those falsehoods of parenting. They make that first few months just sound awful and then there is supposed to be this mystical, magical point when **poof** it all just comes together and the family is smiley and full of well-rested goodness.

Reality check: not so much. You get over the newborn stage and then you hit a growth spurt or two, then the teething kicks in, then another growth spurt. Have I convinced you all to go out and have like, 5 kids yet? Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I really don’t remember much of my life before he came along. Seems like I was doing things that I thought at the time were important, but realize now not so much. That’s not to say I wouldn’t love a crazy night out and more importantly the ability to sleep in the next day, but the parenting gig is pretty freakin’ awesome.

So there it is. My first foray back into the blog-sphere. Wasn't that painful at all. Just like ripping that band-aid off. Just gotta do it. Here's hoping there are a few of you out there still reading. I am gonna keep writing.

Now Listening: Vol I by She&Him