BBQ bellyaching
As aforementioned, we went to Michael's departmental BBQ last night, with all the other faculty members and grad students. It was supposed to be my chance to meet Michael's coworkers for the first time and extend a gracious hand towards the grad students to get them to work for the hubs! If they so desired.
Instead, I met maybe 5 new people and spent 2.5 hours trying to keep my baby away from near-deadly baby hazards, such as two charcoal grills not really set apart from anything; an old and senile dog's mouth; an enormous patch of poison ivy; and seriously steep concrete steps. With all of this, literally, I got to eat half a hamburger. It's a good thing Isaac ate, and I ate a little, before we came.
The worst of all was trying to keep him away from the Cheesy Poofs -- evidently I am raising a baby Cartman. Somebody had set out a bag of Cheesy Poofs in an enormous tin, open for the picking, and Isaac would take one bite, wave his around, and then try to shove the rest in my mouth, in my friend Sara's mouth (who is used to it from her 4-year-old and 7-month-old), or back into the tin with the other, unused Cheesy Poofs. And since we are now into raging toddlerdom, simply telling him to stop is like blowing into the wind, while trying to remove him from the situation results in fist-throwing, screaming, back-arching...the whole ugly scene that we are quickly becoming all-to-familiar with. Though I really could have used some more help from Michael with this scenario, he needed to help Ryan's career by showing him off to the faculty and throwing him into a pack of grad students, and then to help his own career by showing he could let his hair down with the faculty and grad students. Nevertheless, I am thinking somewhere in this that I am owed a night off some night next week, since I looked after the boy the entire day (save a total of maybe 20 minutes at the party) by myself, including all meals, bathtime, and bedtime, AND procured items from an orchard and grocery store to bring to the potluck. AND packed the car with 5 pounds of grapes, a 12-lb watermelon, cold drinks for the non-drinkers (Isaac, Ryan, and myself), and a 25-lb toddler. Is it a wonder I'm tired today?
Of course it wasn't all gloom and doom at the party. I got to meet the two faculty members Michael is always hanging out with, and Michael said afterwards that everybody thought I was just a lovely person. I also got to wear my hottie-girl pregnant outfit, a pretty skirt and a tight black tank top that makes U.B.'s house look like a genuine bump and not a beer gut. Toward the end, I coaxed Isaac away from the Chamber of Toddler Horrors that was the patio and into the lovely large lawn to run his little legs off with Sara's boy, which was much less stressful. And at the very end, these two fabulous grad student boys started tossing around a Nerf football, and they let Isaac play, too. The people I did get to talk to were really great and fun and down-to-earth, especially the football players. There was this one female grad student I met who decided that our only topic of conversation should be about how kids freak her out. Do I look like someone who can relate to that?
I guess all-in-all I should have expected as much. When was the last time I went to a party where I actually got to talk at length to adults?
Instead, I met maybe 5 new people and spent 2.5 hours trying to keep my baby away from near-deadly baby hazards, such as two charcoal grills not really set apart from anything; an old and senile dog's mouth; an enormous patch of poison ivy; and seriously steep concrete steps. With all of this, literally, I got to eat half a hamburger. It's a good thing Isaac ate, and I ate a little, before we came.
The worst of all was trying to keep him away from the Cheesy Poofs -- evidently I am raising a baby Cartman. Somebody had set out a bag of Cheesy Poofs in an enormous tin, open for the picking, and Isaac would take one bite, wave his around, and then try to shove the rest in my mouth, in my friend Sara's mouth (who is used to it from her 4-year-old and 7-month-old), or back into the tin with the other, unused Cheesy Poofs. And since we are now into raging toddlerdom, simply telling him to stop is like blowing into the wind, while trying to remove him from the situation results in fist-throwing, screaming, back-arching...the whole ugly scene that we are quickly becoming all-to-familiar with. Though I really could have used some more help from Michael with this scenario, he needed to help Ryan's career by showing him off to the faculty and throwing him into a pack of grad students, and then to help his own career by showing he could let his hair down with the faculty and grad students. Nevertheless, I am thinking somewhere in this that I am owed a night off some night next week, since I looked after the boy the entire day (save a total of maybe 20 minutes at the party) by myself, including all meals, bathtime, and bedtime, AND procured items from an orchard and grocery store to bring to the potluck. AND packed the car with 5 pounds of grapes, a 12-lb watermelon, cold drinks for the non-drinkers (Isaac, Ryan, and myself), and a 25-lb toddler. Is it a wonder I'm tired today?
Of course it wasn't all gloom and doom at the party. I got to meet the two faculty members Michael is always hanging out with, and Michael said afterwards that everybody thought I was just a lovely person. I also got to wear my hottie-girl pregnant outfit, a pretty skirt and a tight black tank top that makes U.B.'s house look like a genuine bump and not a beer gut. Toward the end, I coaxed Isaac away from the Chamber of Toddler Horrors that was the patio and into the lovely large lawn to run his little legs off with Sara's boy, which was much less stressful. And at the very end, these two fabulous grad student boys started tossing around a Nerf football, and they let Isaac play, too. The people I did get to talk to were really great and fun and down-to-earth, especially the football players. There was this one female grad student I met who decided that our only topic of conversation should be about how kids freak her out. Do I look like someone who can relate to that?
I guess all-in-all I should have expected as much. When was the last time I went to a party where I actually got to talk at length to adults?
posted by Claire at 9:34 AM
2 Comments:
I feel your pain! Everytime we have been to a party or visit anywhere I feel like all I DO is chase Brandon. This weekend we went to meet with a builder and the entire time Alan was sitting with him talking about our possible house I was chasing the boy around the model home to keep him from destroying everything. I've HEARD they get easier...eventually.
Oh sister, I hear ya. I think I just need to resign myself to that fact that going to new and non-toddler-proof places is really NOT all that fun right now. Not that we should never do it, but that I should quit going places and expecting to have fun with grown-ups! Perhaps when he learns to listen...
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