The expectation….and the reality.

kidss

 

Having kids is a fun way to learn to NOT have expectations. It’s also funny that my husband always seems surprised and even perplexed when the little ones don’t cooperate with his plans for a fun afternoon together.

Take today, for example.

He had the afternoon off, and wanted to take the kids to the zoo. Perfect day for it, not too hot, still nice and sunny.

His expectation: A beautiful bonding experience, complete with shared laughter and warm feelings, as we all enjoyed our day and each others company.

The reality: Horrible traffic getting there. 4 year old falls asleep 2 minutes before parking and required vigorous waking up. Toddler won’t sit in the stroller, won’t hold hands to walk, wants to run in front of every zoo vehicle, screams like a howler monkey when we are forced to man handle her for her own safety. I carry her under my arm like a rolled up rug part of the time, sick of fighting with her to keep her alive and not flattened by a random tram. We can’t find the seals, where are the damn seals! We give up as the zoo closes. Get stuck in rush hour traffic on the way home, as toddlers shoe falls off in the back seat. And she SCREAMS. On and off, for 40 minutes.

As I drove, in bumper to bumper traffic….. I kept peeking over at my husband. Just waiting for him to start stabbing himself in the eye with something. The screaming from the back was the kind you hear when your child is PISSED OFF….it goes on, and on….slowly tapering off. You start to think you’re safe, you made it through…as she sits quietly for a few minutes. But no…. she was just taking a break. And it starts again, and hubby’s eye starts twitching…. hand desperately clutching a pretzel rod.

Oh, don’t think she’d stop if we would just put on her shoe. Trust me, I WISH it was that easy. When she gets pissed lately, there is no quick fix. Replace the shoe, buy her new shoes, take off both shoes…..doesn’t matter. She will cry until she decides she’s done. Not usually sooner, but later.

Now, ALL of our outings do not suck this much. BUT, I never expect them NOT to suck. Because then I can be happy when we have fun, and not all surprised when we don’t.

But still, my husband just doesn’t seem to understand how the world works with children. I don’t know if I should call it hopeless optimism…. or just feel sorry for him and his lack of ability to deal with reality. Sometimes it’s endearing, and sometimes it’s just annoying.

Like when we get a chance to go out to dinner together, us and the little ones again.

His expectation: We will sit, speak to each other about important or interesting topics, and we will eat our meal.

The reality: we sit. Then I get up about 30 times to take Jenna potty, because she MUST visit the potty every 4 minutes every time we are in a public place. We talk, about why is he letting Sammy run around wearing Jenna’s blanket as a cape when I’m off in the bathroom? I talk a lot to the kids, things like “Stop that!”, “get out from under the table!”, “sit down!”, “please eat your food”, “don’t spill that!”, “leave your sister alone”, “leave ME alone!”….. and between this I steal bites of food.

Sometimes things go better. But you know if you have little ones….going out to eat is not like….easy or fun usually. You have to be ready for anything, which is tiring even if nothing actually happens. Because it COULD happen, and you must maintain order at all cost.

Sounds like a lot of work huh?

At this point, based on my experience, my own expectations are more realistic.

Expectations: I will not participate in any lengthy adult conversation or activity while my children are anywhere around me. I will eat mostly standing up, and my food will usually be cold. I will never pee alone. If walking up the stairs, I will be either carrying a toddler, or a laundry basket. Or, a toddler IN a laundry basket. I will never have time to do my hair. I will steal kisses a million times a day from anyone who has previously resided in my uterus.

The reality: see above. Honestly, not so bad. And one day, I will probably even sleep through an entire night again…..

 

Avoiding Jillian Michaels

 

I used to work out with Jillian Michaels. In my basement.

It was nice, she was there for me every morning, or anytime I went looking for her, really.  I got to know her, and the girls she brought to work out with us. She understood my limited time, and totally did not mind pausing if a wandering baby pooped herself in the middle of our workout, forcing me to change her before we finished.

We even had names for our workout routines, my absolute favorites were: Banish Fat, Boost Metabolism, 30 Day Shred, Ripped in 30, and No More Trouble Zones. That last one, I loved it.

We were such good workout buddies. She really understood my needs.

Well, time went on, and somehow I started missing some of our workout dates. It was hard to meet up with her, when I had all these kids to DO STUFF with, and I’ll admit, some days I just got lazy.

Jillian doesn’t like lazy. I know that. If she said it once, she said it a thousand times….. “It’s only 20 minutes, you don’t get a break!”  I got tired of her saying the same things over and over, you know how it is. And some of those moves, was she kidding?

I loved her 3-2-1 system of strength, cardio, abs. But then when we moved up to a more challenging level I was supposed to live in a plank position, dying on the floor as she cackled at me, not even breaking a sweat. And Rock Star Jumps. Um…. I know she hasn’t carried a baby inside of her, maybe that’s why she’s not afraid of her uterus falling onto the floor when she does them. Or peeing herself, I don’t see her crossing her legs and taking a minute to make sure nothing is going to sneak out.

Sometimes I would just do my own thing while she and her girls illustrated just how in shape I was NEVER going to be. And the longer I lapsed between our workouts, the more I realized she must have been working out between our sessions, because she picked up right where she left off when we were last together, yet I was forced to start back on level one, or struggle through level two.

I began to dread working out with her.  To her credit, she never acted like she noticed. Just as perky and motivating as before. Maybe neither of us wanted to verbalize it….but it was clear, we were growing apart.

I haven’t seen Jillian in over a month. Yes, I took the cowards way out and just stopped showing up. I guess I find that easier than having “the talk”.

But I’ve kind of been missing her. It WAS nice having her there to encourage me in my quest for physical fitness. She never judged me for doing high knees instead of rock star jumps. Maybe I just got too sensitive. Maybe I just got lazy. Maybe I feel like my butt is turning into a pancake and I don’t have the money for cool laser lipo…yet.

So I think, one day soon, I’m going to try to stop avoiding Jillian Michaels. My plan? Well, I’m going to act like nothing ever happened. I’ll probably show up one morning soon, and just join in again. She’s way to professional to call me on it, so I don’t need to worry about explaining myself.

Until that day, I just won’t look at that corner of my basement where we used to work out. Might get awkward if we made eye contact before I was ready……