Here we go…September is here! Based on my Facebook feed, it looks like we might be one of the latest ones getting back into the swing of school, but we’re ready for the fall routine, the commuting, the daytime activities.
I’ve become a little reclusive since Jude was born, not because I meant to but because adjusting to the demands of a third and colicky baby used up all my energy. I’ve been trying to do a better job lately about getting together with others and having people over. Of course, being anxiety-prone, I often find myself getting overwhelmed and nervous before said get-togethers. I wish I could send my invites with a disclosure list! Mine would go a little something like this:
Hi! I’m so glad you’re here. No, really. I am super glad I’m going to get to hang out with another adult today. Because, you know – toddlers. But I think there are some things you should know before you agree to take me and my motley crew on for a few hours. Things like…
I get anxious when I have people over || This is no reflection on you. I don’t think you’re judgmental or critical or hard to get along with. I just get antsy and panicky on the inside. Not so much the outside. I don’t mean to be fake about it, but I do cover it pretty well, mostly because my anxiety coping strategy involves going on autopilot and trying to make everyone happy. Anyway, all this to say I’m anxious, but I keep having people over because it’s worth my anxiety to get to hang out with you.
My house may be clean or messy || If my house is clean, it’s not so much because I wanted you to be impressed but because I wanted you to be comfortable. If my house is messy, it’s not because I didn’t care enough to clean, it’s because I felt safe enough to show you the less-than-perfect parts of me. I’d love to find some ways to blend both sides of myself, but I haven’t figured it out yet.
On that note, I recommend keeping your shoes on || Because Cheerios. I swear I try to pick them up, but they are like Jesus – omnipresent. Actually, it’s all breakfast cereal in general. Today, Gabe spilled an entire box of Life cereal on the kitchen floor. The. Whole. Thing. That was fun. My floors are still crunchy even though we’ve swept 3 times and washed the floor once. Whoever came up with this “no shoes in the house” rule obviously mustn’t have had small children.
My hooligans do get disciplined || If all goes well, my little people will be respectful, kind, and moderately calm. If all goes normally, however, at least one of these three probably won’t happen. I promise I really do see it and it really is important to me, and we really will handle the problems – most likely in private and/or after you leave.
My home is <ahem> a work in progress || I used to obsess over trying to make every little thing perfect. I can’t keep up now, though. Take, for example, the fact that three of my rooms are currently in the process of being painted. Three. And about six years ago, I put a swipe of paint on a wall to test the color. I still haven’t covered it over. I will get there. Some day. I try not to be super self-conscious about these things, but many times I am.
I have no ability to regulate the temperature of my house || It used to be that I was super cheap so we kept our temperatures at levels that were less expensive. To be totally honest, when Gabe was a baby, our winter nighttime temperature was 58. He didn’t sleep through the night for over a year until we finally started turning up the temperature when we realized he was cold. True story.
Now, my body temperature regulation is just broken. If it’s humid, I’m hot, no matter the actual temperature. If it’s hot, I’m hot. Obviously. If it’s warm, I’m also hot. Until I’m not and I’m suddenly very, very cold and sometimes actually shiver and have to sleep with a heating pad. All that to say please tell me if you’re hot or cold. I’ll be happy to adjust the temperature. I just can’t tell.
Please forgive my lack of beverages || Really, I’m sorry. It’s basically water or milk. No juice, no lemonade, no iced tea, no soda, no beer, no wine. I don’t do this purposefully, except that it does make things easier with my kids if I just never have other beverages. It’s so much easier to say, “We don’t have any,” than it is to give a straight-up “no.” I recognize it might be more hospitable to have more options, but I just rarely think to buy them.
If you can handle all that, welcome! We’re glad to have you! If not, let me know and we can meet at a Starbucks. Which has its definite perks. The major ones being someone who brings me coffee and someone else who mops the floors for me.
On second thought, maybe we should just plan to meet there from the get-go…