 | Bryan and I have been married for nearly four years. In total, we have been together for almost nine years. And never in all that time have I seen him as thrilled to see me as he was the other day at the airport.
Our daughter, Zoey, who will be two years old in December, stayed home with Daddy for FIVE WHOLE DAYS while I went to Atlanta to see my beloved sister, Abby. My vacation included long showers (the likes of which I normally experience only on the weekends when Bryan is home to keep tabs on Zoey), and sleeping in until 10:00 in the morning (which was really only 7 a.m. my time, but still, it felt luxurious). I shopped without having to rush through stores, I ate my food while it was hot and without having to cut someone else's portion first, I didn't have to wash many dishes. It was glorious. And when I arrived in Atlanta last Thursday, I made this prediction: Bryan is going to be FINE with Zoey until Monday, and then everything will fall apart.
I was SO right.
I hadn't anticipated just how much I would miss my daughter when I got to Atlanta. So I called home. Often. Like, three or four times a day. Thursday and Friday were great--Bryan reported they were having a fabulous time together. The weekend went smoothly as well, with some bumps in the road due to some lack of sleeping through the night. But they were fine! Having a great time, Mommy! We love you!
The tone of the phone calls took a dramatic turn for the worse on Monday.
Me: Hey babe! How's it going?
Bryan: Oh my God. I'm so busy! This morning I had to take Zoey to preschool by 9:00, I had to have Pilgrim (our cat) at the vet by 9:15 and it wasn't like I could just drop HER off, I had to stay with her while she got her rabies shot! And I had to be at the chiropractor's office by 10:00--I just barely made it!
Me: Wow. Busy morning. (Translation: So?)
Bryan: AND WE HAVE NO FOOD! I mean, I went to the store the other day but all I had time to grab was milk, and cat food!
Me: Well, at least the cats and Zoey are taken care of. Ha, ha.
Bryan: It's not funny! I'm running out of things to fix, and Zoey is sick of grilled cheese. I miss your menu. And the grocery list you always write out.
Me: Yeah, well, it CAN be hard to get all that accomplished while you have a toddler around. Let me talk to Zoey.
Zoey: Mommy? Eat apples! I EAT APPLES! Eat, eat!
The conversation continued on like this for several more minutes. The desperate tone of my daughter's voice conveyed the sense that she had been eating apples, and ONLY apples, for far too long. The joke had gone on long enough, Mommy, PLEASE COME HOME! Her first three-word-sentence--"I EAT APPLES!"-- and it had been an obvious plea for her Mommy to come back and plan a better menu than the one Daddy had arranged. I was proud. And worried.
After eight hours of plane rides on Tuesday, I arrived home around noon. I had been up since 2:00 a.m. our time. I was tired. Bryan and Zoey met me at baggage claim. Zoey said "Hi Mama! Look! Baby!" Pointing out a baby across the room, she had apparently forgotten the length of my trip and the fact that she was exisiting solely on fruit and milk. Bryan hugged me so tight I thought I might stop breathing, and told me he was so happy to see me! And could we please go get some lunch, because he and Zoey were starving?
We sat at Red Robin 20 minutes later and decided to order Zoey her own lunch from the kid's menu, even though it usually turns out to be a waste of $5.00. But when our food arrived, I watched as she and Bryan inhaled their ENTIRE meal. Bryan, in between bites, informed me that he'd love to TELL me he'd cleaned the house while I had been gone, but in reality, he'd only managed to pick up all the toys before they'd left to pick me up. I was grateful for the warning, too tired to care very much about a messy house, and really loving the appreciative looks I kept getting from him.
On the surface, the house didn't look like a health hazard. But ..r inspection, after Zoey had gone down for her nap, I began to notice dust bunnies accumulating on the wood floors, jam crusted in drip-marks down the front of the stove, something sticky and dusty on the kitchen counters. Bryan wanted us both to lay down and take a nap...which was kind, but I could only lay there for 20 minutes, despite my exhaustion. Once I could tell he had passed out, I slipped upstairs to begin the deep cleaning that would last, as it turned out, for two days.
I hit my stride and got the kitchen, living room, and dining room clean by the time Bryan and Zoey woke up. I planned a menu. I made a grocery list. (Bryan was right. The contents of the refrigerator included: milk, yogurt, and leftovers that had been in residence since before my departure for Atlanta.) Bryan, in all his gratitude, did whatever I asked him, while adding "anything for my wife!" in a cheerful tone.
The cleaning continued on Wednesday while Zoey was at preschool. I cleaned the back half of the house: Zoey's room, the extra bedroom, and the bathroom. The bath tub was appalling and I wondered just how clean Zoey had REALLY gotten last night during her bath.
And the laundry? Seriously. What a nightmare. I was so glad I had washed all MY clothes at Abby's house on Monday, because I had to wash the entire contents of Bryan and Zoey's wardrobe on Wednesday. When Bryan got home, I asked him if he had ANY clean clothes left? "No. I was out of underpants and Zoey has no clean pajamas."
That night, for dinner, I fixed steak (his favorite) and scalloped potatoes (Zoey's favorite). Bryan sat admiringly at the table, and said "I suppose you finished all that laundry today, too, right?". He looked at me with what can only be described as total admiration.
And that brings us to today, Thursday. In addition to getting Zoey and myself out the door to get our hair cut, taking her to a friend's house for a play date, and surviving the afternoon despite the fact that she refuses to nap, I have managed to clean the entire downstairs. (Our shower looked about as nasty as Zoey's bath tub.)
And that, my friends? Is just how I roll. And now my husband knows it. And really, that was part of the whole trip to Atlanta. I wanted him to get a taste for all that goes on in this house, behind the scenes. The things nobody notices, but that happen in order for us to have clean underpants and dinners that aren't all some version of grilled sandwiches. |
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