See, I thought I could handle coming home from a 2-week trip to my parents' home and have only 1 day to prepare for a house full of company, and as it turns out, I couldn't. Oh sure, the house was cleaned (except my bedroom, which remained a complete disaster of the no-floor-space kind; this is where Gavin learned the word "disaster" and how to say it with a concerned and semi-dejected expression, just like his Mommy. I had hoped no one would enter the bedroom and see the explosion of neglect and lack of time, but who am I kidding?), the grocery shopping done (although I need to remember to stock up on the condiments next time, namely syrup and crunchy peanut butter - oh yeah, and soda...I mean, "pop"), fresh whole wheat bread just out of the oven, and I was ready for a weekend of fun and family.
What I didn't count on was that I would become a total monster for the duration of the weekend. Irritability, sulkiness, feelings of being neglected and un-complimented, the lack of desire to watch any more baseball...you name it, I WAS it. This may seem like a cop-out explanation, but I completely blame hormones. Ladies, most of you are "regular" gals who deal with this on a monthly basis, but being a woman in the body of a small, pre-adolescent choir boy renders me quite inexperienced with a regular hormone influx. Call me ridiculous, but this is the type of interaction that ensued:
Casey: That shirt looks nice on you, honey.
Brittny: You know, I'm feeling rather self-conscious right now and would rather you not say anything. (Retreat to kitchen to begrudgingly make meal.)
(Later) Brittny: Casey, you're not even giving me the time of day! I'd appreciate some more attention, here!
Casey, gingerly: Uh, the last time I tried that you shot me down pretty quick.
Brittny: What are you talking about? You've barely said one nice thing to me all day, much less talked to me.
Casey: I tried earlier to tell you that you looked nice and you told me not to say that.
Brittny: (With gradual realization of the sheer stupidity of her actions)...Oh...yeah...
While I certainly was in the throes of moodiness and teenage-like self-pity, I truly appreciate the actions of our family members who were nothing if not gracious as ever. Thank you, Cheryl, Jay, Cam, Jen, Trent, for over-looking my actions and determining to have a good time despite my lack of trying to help the process along. I promise to bequeath myself to the nearest trailer park should another hormonal episode like this try to creep up in the remotest sense and rain on our family shindig parade.
Lest you think there was no fun to be had, let me reassure you that there were bright points. We went to the Pima County Fair with Grandpa and Grandma where we enjoyed looking at the animals and eating a funnel cake (who goes to the fair for any other reason?). When Cam, Jen and Trent came, we hung out, went to the park and pool a few times, had a little birthday celebration for Gav, watched copious amounts of baseball, went to Golf 'N Stuff for the water bumper boats and batting cages, and had an encounter with an extremely obnoxious red-haired waitress. (Not Cheryl.) We loved getting together with everyone and hope that we can continue to help Gavin and his younger cousin get to know each other! We love and miss you all!
Grandpas are AWESOME
So telling.
No, Trent is not nursing - he's sleeping!
Warning! Action photos to follow:
4 comments:
too much baseball makes me crabby too.
I think you need another vacation home where your mommy can take care of you or Gavin-whoever whines the loudest!
Brittny:
You'd best stay on your medication!
...or learn the rules of baseball!
GP
Brittny,
No apology necessary, we didn't even notice. Food was great, accommodations were top notch, the entertainment staff (of one) was on the top of his game. The only apology you might extend is the one for putting the picture of me and all my chins on the blog for the world to see... haha.
We love you, thanks for having us! xoxo
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