Thursday, January 12, 2012

Where's my reality TV camera crew?

I seriously think that the actual day-to-day crazy of my life would be excellent TV fodder for trashy and shallow Americans who like to peep in on the chaos of other people's lives. You know that turkey-neck syndrome we all get when we drive by a fender bender on the highway?  Don't even try to lie, you know you do it. We all do. I hereby admit outright that I can be slightly trashy and shallow too from time to time, so don't feel bad.

Want proof?

My future BFF!
Photo Credit:
I cried when "Jon & Kate Plus 8" ended, cheered Kate on when "Kate Plus 8" aired and then cried again when the spin-off cancelled (even if it was mediocre compared to its predecessor). I shit you not, but real tears fell from my eyes many times throughout my love affair with the Gosselins. I relished every minute spent watching that train wreck all the way back to their first specials broadcast on the Discovery Channel. I even own a copy of "Multiple Blessings". How lame, right?

If I am going to be totally honest here, I think Kate Gosselin and I might get along really well if we were to meet one day. We are both extroverts and we both married douche canoes whom we ended up divorcing. We could be like instant BFFs. I could teach her how to get a real job and she could teach me how to organize my oppressive ADHD-induced piles of stuff that might take over my house some day if I am not careful. (Kate, if you read this ... I truly support you, despite the train wreck aired on national television, and I do think you rocked your divorce with the utmost of dignity. I only hope that I can do the same through mine. Cheers!)

Anyway, the quirky, eyebrow raising, unexpected "interesting" of my life that seems to pop up whenever I seem to think things like "I've soooo got this" will never cease to amaze me. For an outsider looking in, its probably laugh-out-loud hilarious. For me, sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't.  Learning how to laugh at myself and not take things so seriously is one of my goals on this journey of starting over wonderful. I get better at it every day.

Evidence that I'm making progress on learning how to laugh at my own ridiculousness came up one evening last week. The whole experience and sequence of events that night would have been perfect for the pilot episode of my reality show, too!

First, you need a little background info:  for the past two months or so I've been sort of seeing, or at least getting to know, a fellow single dad with a baby girl just 4 days older than C. He sort of just showed up in my life soon after I moved back to New England. He has a crazy ex issue. I have a crazy ex issue. He has custody, I have custody. He is an engineer, I am an engineer. He lost his house and "the dream", and well yeah. So have I. The similarities and things in common continue, but I won't bore you with them all just yet. I will refer to him from this point forward as Mr. Handsome and all that's important to know here is we've been pining for one another for weeks and I've been holding off since we met because I like him, think we could have something real, and I did NOT want him to fall into that rebound grey area that can come about after a break-up. Two months ago, I wasn't entirely ready to open my life up to the idea of new love. I am now and feel safe from the perils of rebound.

Now that you know all that, you should also know that the night in question was a much anticipated get together where both of us knew that certain things might happen. We had had a couple of dates prior to this night and on the most recent one, the chemistry from just kissing was enough to either set the room on fire or make me believe I was 16 again and in the back seat of my first real flame's red camero.

I had cleaned my room, put fresh sheets on my bed, lit candles. You get it. After sending flirty texts back and forth for what seemed like forever days, do I have to explain why we were already making out fifteen minutes after he showed up and only thirty minutes after I had put C to bed for the night? Sparks were flying. I was weak in the knees and It.Was.Awesome.

Until I heard C start to cry from his room.

I say to Mr. Handsome, "Let me go check on him, I'll be right back."  I say to myself, "Please just let him need his pacifier for the love of God!"

As I opened the door to C's room and flip on the light, I take in the following scene:  C is sitting up in the middle of his crib projectile vomiting in a 180 degree arc around himself. As I leap across his room to reach him, I'm thinking to myself "This is not happening!! This is a dream (or, rather, a nightmare)!! This stuff only happens on TV!! Why Why Why?????"

Can you see why I should have a production crew following me around?

I was seriously freaking out at first. One one hand I was worried about C and if this was to be the start of a 24-48 hour puking plague that I would undoubtedly catch, and on the other hand I was mortified. I was also trying not to puke myself, as I tend to be a reactionary barfer.

Mr. Handsome calls from the other room "Everything all right?" He knows that it isn't. Puke noises are unmistakable and the vomit smell had wafted through the entire house in a matter of seconds.  What happened next was amazing, though. Not only did I quickly learn that I had no reason to be embarrassed, but I actually laughed through the events that followed.

As I loved on and kissed my little barf man of a baby, changed his PJs and then cleaned up his vomit covered crib (not really in that order), I did shake my head a lot in disbelief. But I couldn't stop laughing about it either. Mr. Handsome offered to help with the clean up, but there is no way I would have let him because that's just gross. Instead, he sat with C, comforted him and they played peek-a-boo while I cleaned up barf. It was because of how comfortable and at ease with the whole thing that he seemed to be that I was able to go on like I did, without tears or frustration.  As I scrubbed and changed sheets and sprayed Lysol everywhere, I smiled and laughed to myself. It was just ridiculous!! Invite Mr. Handsome over for some overdue sexy-time (hey, single Moms have needs too!) and spend 45 minutes cleaning up puke. Sexy!!! Cue the cameras!

After my precious (and pale looking) C was finally back to bed and I had started laundry and changed my shirt, I asked Mr. Handsome if he wanted to rain check our evening given the puke. I was already surprised and pretty much floored with how he handled the whole puking ordeal in the first place, on top of unexpectedly meeting C, so I had to really concentrate on keeping my jaw from hanging open when he insisted on staying for a bit longer.  I didn't have to focus on my mouth for long before his was on mine and his hands were all over me again. He has the most amazing hands, by the way. The kind that really hold you and pull you in when he kisses you. Hands that not only know what they are doing, but that are also both strong and tender.

Twenty minutes of kissing and talking and both of us laughing about the irony of the puking incident on our first night together, my shirt came off. Before I knew it, I was on top of him giving him my smoothest, most sexy googly eyes, as I went to take off my bra. His eyes were totally focused on me and I could tell he was enjoying the view of me in front of him like that. Just taking me in with his eyes. It was one of those sensual moments you just close your eyes and remember over and over when you're alone ... and (because this is MY crazy life, remember?) it quickly came to a screeching halt when a half eaten toddler cookie proceeded to fall out of my bra in a big crumbly mess landing all over Mr. Handsome and my bed (was C saving that for later or something, how the hell did that get there!?!!!)

We both busted out laughing.

In my head, I was screaming and wondering where the hell my production crew was. But also, my heart was sort of melting because of how comfortable he was making me feel, even if the events of the night had embarrassing written all over them. And it was just too ridiculous and funny not to laugh.

I couldn't make this stuff up even if I tried. 


  1. I am too. Entertaining reality is always welcome. It sure beats boring. Who wants to be boring?

  2. Phenom - I hope you aren't as big of a B as Kate is! She was just wicked.

    1. LOL. I have had my moments, I'm not going to lie. But I've learned to tame the B through the years and I don't typically unleash my wrath unless seriously provoked. I do think some of Kate Gosselin's bitch attitude is faked for the cameras, so that is worth taking into consideration when judging her as a person. Reality TV is NOT 100% real. No matter what anyone tries to say.


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