I’ve come to the conclusion that some people are in desperate need of a punch in the face. The other day I was at work when a very large and in charge gentleman came into the bar to have a drink. It was very early and we had no customers so everyone began chatting with him. It turns out he used to be a bouncer at a very exclusive, hip, celebrity frequented club. He was pretty impressed with himself, but those types of places aren’t really my cup of tea. I like beer, not attitude. So he goes on to tell us about people who tried to get into his club. He said that there were rules, like a man couldn’t get in unless he had at least two females. He said one time a man gave him $1000.00 so he could get in with his date. I blurted “did you punch him in the face?” He said no, because he was trying to impress the girl. Maybe I need higher standards because I wouldn’t be impressed with that, I would be annoyed and slightly uncomfortable. And I'm sure if a girl would get impressed by something like that, you may just be able to give her the $1000.00 directly and she would sleep with you, rather than suffering through bad techno and extremely overpriced bottle “service”. My bouncer friend also said there were other rules, like he couldn’t let in ugly or fat girls. What? That’s wrong. I asked him if he felt bad doing that, he said yes but it was his job he had to do what he had to do. I’m sure there are Nazi’s who said those exact same words. I didn’t say that last part out loud, because at this point he was my customer and I had to do what I had to do.
I don’t know what’s happening lately but everyone has been taken aback when I tell him or her how old I am. I was at work yesterday and the manager almost stumbled when I said I was only 25. I know I’m married with a child, which is a lot more responsibility than most 25 year olds take on, but I don’t think I really look that old.
Unfortunately this has been going on long before I gave birth. People have thought I was older since I was 16. Not because I ran around dressed up like a hussy, it’s probably because I’ve been dressing like a soccer mom since middle school. Seriously I had 5 or 6 warm-up suits I wore everyday.
My parents used to have to volunteer at Bingo for my brothers’ school and somehow they were able to guilt me into doing it for them. (I didn’t have a car and if I ever wanted to use their minivan I had to put in the man-hours) The other parents were confused by my presence and thought I had a kid in the school. Hello I was 16. Most of them admitted they though my fake kid would be in preschool at the most but that’s still embarrassing. At least when I was 16 it was cool to look older, that meant I wouldn’t have as much trouble getting into bars when I got into college.
It’s still happening even after I turned 21. My best friend since childhood, Megan, is the same age as me. (6 months older if we want to get technical) She has a younger sister who is the same age as my younger brother Richard. After graduating college Megan and I would help out our parents by taking our siblings to the doctor or dentist. Meg’s dentist thought her younger sister was older than her and my doctor asked if I was Richards’s mom. What? I wasn’t even wearing a warm up suit! Maybe it’s the glasses, maybe its because I’m an old soul, I don’t know but its certainly annoying.
We’re a month into this “stay at home mother” business and I think I may be starting to get the hang of it. Sure my days are ruled by a tyrannical two year-old, but it’s not all that bad. Here are some of the major changes I’ve undergone since I hung up the work pants and slipped on the apron:
o Wait; with that title did I imply that I could shower? Because that’s a lie. I no longer shower. I don’t feel bad if I smell; its not because I’m a smelly person, it’s just because I couldn’t shower. Also, it’s so hot out these days that I wear my hair up anyway, so why would I wash it? I should say it’s because I’m “green” or “trying to save money” but my water bill is included in my rent and I can’t leave that baby alone long enough to lather.
· Going to the Bathroom
o Intruders beware I now go to the bathroom with the door WIDE open. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on her? Its actually really liberating, I can stretch out. Its nice to know that no one is going to walk in on you since you never closed the door in the first place. This change can get tricky though, I went to my parents house the other day and went to the bathroom, just before I was about to get it started I realized the door was open. Thankfully I closed it before anyone saw that my fly was open.
· Business Lunch
o Yep, no such thing as lunch. I’m lucky if I can carry around an easy mac while I chase after her. I remember I used to have a whole hour for lunch and I would complain when it was time to go back to work. Sometimes I used to take a nap during lunch; it was wonderful. Not so much anymore. Now my lunches are spent in the kitchen eating whatever cold leftovers I can find off of Ali’s plate.
· TV time
o I think in some fantasy I thought when I was home with my daughter I’d have a half hour to spare to catch up on my favorite HGTV programming. I have a better shot at winning the lottery. My TV is permanently fixed on Nick Junior and my DVR is filled with SpongeBob, Dinosaur Train, Barney and of course Umi Zoomi. I’d be lucky if I was able to sneak something PG in there just for my enjoyment. I find myself getting excited when a NEW episode of a cartoon is on because I haven’t already watched it 14 times.
· Wake up Call
o Turns out you don’t need an alarm clock to be up by 7am, just a baby. When I was working I didn’t wake up until at least 7:30. Now with all the hustle and bustle of city living Ali is awake and shining the second she hears the some idiot cab driver blaring on his horn.
Staying home with her is stressful but so far we’ve been having fun. She does forward rolls in the grass near our house (don’t worry I check it for dog poop). I’m the thinnest I’ve ever been from chasing after her and I’m the tannest I've ever been from going outside everyday. Sure I wake up early, but there is nothing like going to bed Sunday night relaxed, not frantically thinking of what I have to do at work tomorrow. All I have to worry about is whether Ali wants to go to the park before or after lunch.