Friday, December 29, 2006

home for the holidays

Daddy Hall has been on vacation from work for...oh, seven and a half days. that's 180 hours. [who's counting?] and we have 3 full days left to go.

it's not that we can't handle it - we can. fun and games? yes. "yay Daddy's home?" yes. helpful partner? quality family time? yes.

but i'm not going to lie. having him home 24/7 comes with bitter challenges as well.

at first, we had to adjust our daily routine -and by "we" and "our" i mean me and Baby Hall. we have a routine. Daddy Hall fits nicely into the routine between 5pm and bedtime M-F, and all day, all night on weekends. so this vacation thing really screws up our day-to-day doings. naptime has been all out of wack. and my healthy, home-cooked, well-planned meals? forgetaboutit.

in contrast to my normal days, the television seems to be on constantly this week. he likes to spend many hours of his vacation flipping between the History channel, Modern Marvels, MythBusters, various sports, the weather channel, and Blue's Clues. the constant dronning is going to be the end of this woman's nerves. if the monitor is shattered into a million miniscule slivers of glass when we wake up in the morning, i won't be sad. that's all i'm saying.

something strange has happened to Baby Hall since Daddy's vacation time began, too. she is fussier. needier. and she doesn't want to play with me. she only wants to play with/climb on/kiss/hug/cry to/listen to Daddy. breaks a Mama's heart at first...then it's flat-out frustrating...and now it's just annoying. the three stages of 'good grief!'

and the house! why can't i seem to keep it clean when he's home? i'm tripping over shoes here, an empty cereal bowl there, opened soda can half-drunk, overflowing trash can [again], bottomless piles of laundry, a lost remote [again], and i just noticed there are 2 uninstalled air filters propped against the wall in the hallway. lovely. it's starting to look like a frat house where the housekeeper has been tied up and left for dead in one of the closets. but i'm not dead. wait a minute -- i'm not a housekeeper! but i'm trying and i'm giving up. until he goes back to work.

the nice thing, i'm sure there's a nice thing. i just can't think of it right now. the blab-blab-blabbing of the TV is numbing my brain. i think i'll go find the sledge hammer.

update*** i just thought of the nice thing about having Daddy Hall home for the holidays: i get to sleep in a little bit. :) that's nice. it's worth it.