Mistaken for Strangers

Oh look that’s right, I have a blog! Not that anyone cares, because there’s nothing worse than a blogger being all, OH SO SORRY I AM SO SHURE YOU MISSED ME, but man, I missed doing THIS, so I hereby declare to post no fewer than three times a week moving forward, until the end of time, barring holidays and vacations, in the name of Blogging Jebus, Amen.

The reason for my absence this week was that Jennie and Mike were here visiting, and I know the last thing anyone feels like reading is another Mighty Blogger Circlejerk, because it’s ALWAYS Lovely Love My Internet Family, but let me tell you, there’s a significant difference between going out FOR AN EVENING with someone and coming away with a good feeling, and, say, spending FIVE DAYS WITH THEM IN YOUR HOUSE, and then — hand to God — when they leave, having it feel like the time was too short, and perhaps they could cancel the second part of their trip and just stay here, with us? No? Too forward? What if you just moved in then?

And let me tell you it is even MORE DIFFERENT when your husband — one of the most private people in the world — skips doing work each night to hang out with them because he, too, loves them so, and when they leave, have him feel THE SAME WAY, which is to say that they could have stayed another week, and I don’t think we’d minded in the slightest. Nay, we’d have enjoyed it. Their son Kyle, would have enjoyed missing them another week not so much, probably. But whatever, he can move in here, too. Problem solved.

We had SO much fun. They were here sightseeing and wedding-ing and such, but we spent almost every morning and evening together, and I’m sure by now you’re all reading Jennie, but what I think is impossible to capture is, a) how fully cute she and her husband are, in a non-barfy way; and b) how incredibly down to earth they are. Just good, solid, normal people that are so easy to be with — no tension or weirdness or discomfort, and I don’t think either of them has a pretentious bone in their body, for there was ZERO pretense among any of us, and it was SO REFRESHING. It felt like being with family, except without all that weird family tension and history. It was just EASY and COMFORTABLE, like wearing your favorite sweater, and I don’t think that point can be overstated.

I think it was the first night that one of them said something that was so disarmingly NORMAL and charming, that I looked at Adam and said, “These are our people,” to which he replied, “Yes.”

(Self-involved side note: I always use normal to describe people who fit my personal Good People Paradigm, or worse, People Who Are Exactly Like Us. I don’t think this is particularly generous or open-minded of me, but there you go. Apparently I think I’m the definition of Normal, which is so douchey, right? So douchey. AND YET.)

And oh, hey, do you want to see the pictures of us together?

LOOK A BLANK SPOT BECAUSE I DIDN’T TAKE ANY AGAIN. The closest thing I have to photographic evidence that they were even HERE is a picture I took with Jennie’s camera of her and Mike all dolled up for the wedding. If you look closely, you can kind of tell that’s my kitchen. THAT’S IT.

***

Now for the bad: The day they were slated to arrive, I realized that Sam had the most ASS-SEARING stomach virus with some kind of HORRID, FLESH-EATING side effect that left her in … oh dear. It was unpleasant downstairs, and if I so much as glanced at the kid’s behind, she wailed in agony. There was SKIN BREAKDOWN and some BLEEDING AND SLOUGHING and I wanted to DIE, but also, I just felt so bad for her. The solution, if you were wondering, was to ride it out and also, coat the kid in approximately four ounces of Triple Paste per diaper changing, which is how I arrived at the Very Awful Place of going through AN ENTIRE JAR of the stuff in less than a week.

What? You don’t think that’s a big deal? Oh, it’s just DIAPER CREAM? OH PEOPLE. THIS DIAPER CREAM GOES FOR $28 PER JAR WHAT THE EFF.

Which brings me to, seriously, the four biggest surprises to me about pregnancy and having a kid that with all the unsolicited assvice, no one ever told me, so now, I am telling you:

1) While pregnant, you may possibly puke until you pee your pants. Not a little pee, but like, a FULL BLADDER’S WORTH. No, it doesn’t matter if you just went. The pee will materialize from some mysterious reserve your body keeps just for these occasions. What is wise is to puke into a bag-lined bucket while sitting on the toilet. Minimizes cleanup. Oh, and this will pretty much happen every time you cough from now until eternity, THE END.

2) When you give birth vaginally, your post-birth ladybits will be so swollen that you swear — SWEAR! — that another baby is crowning, until you press a little and realize, nope, that’s just YOUR VAGINA, swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. No, I’m not kidding or exaggerating. Okay, fine, HALF a cantaloupe, with the cut half resting on your pelvis. SERIOUSLY. (This does go away, thank you GOD.)

3) Already stated, but worth repeating: worst part of a backdoor stomach virus is not the cleanup, but the SEARING SCREAMING DIAPER RASH. I’m telling you, DID NOT ANTICIPATE THIS.

4) You will gladly — nay, GLEEFULLY — spend $30 on something you spread like peanut butter on your kid’s ass. FOR THEM TO POOP ON.

YOU ARE WELCOME, PREGNANT PEOPLE OF THE WORLD.

Happy Tuesday!

*The National

132 comments October 25th, 2010