Bad Days and Bad Boyfriends

It isn't glamorous. It really isn't pretty. According to normal beauty standards, anyway.

But I genuinely enjoy being pregnant. I do.

I feel glowy. I feel lovely. Even though I have dimples on my ass and a recurring zit on my chin.

I feel strong and purposeful.

But,

For the love of GOD,

I would love to be able to simply express myself without completely breaking down and bursting into tears.

Especially since that makes The Bottomless Pit go 'Ohhh, ok. This is a pregnancy thing.'. It completely invalidates anything that I was just trying to say.

***

So.

I'll tell you guys.

I had a REALLY bad day today.

***

Eddie's grandfather came over. With nothing in mind to work on. He just...gets bored.

I had an antique Tiffany ceiling lamp that my sister had in her house since she first moved in with her husband. The Pit had admired it a while back and she brought it to us as a housewarming gift.

I asked Grandpa if he knew how to hang one.

He said 'Yes, I've done a few of those' and he grinned in that charming, Grandpa way.

He is sweet, he is helpful, he is cute.

I get it. I get it.

He trekked through my spotless house without using the doormat, as usual. Dragged mud everywhere he went.

Saw The Cute napping in the recliner and affectionately rubbed her head, waking her up.

Do I need to mention that she spent the rest of the day being a crab? A crab who wouldn't go back to sleep? Because....yeah.

Realized he'd need something to stand on and went to the garage to find a stepladder. Dragged it through the snow, the mud and then the house.

Of course. Of course.

Grandpa proceeded to CUT half of the CHAIN before I realized what was happening.

'That's what ya gotta do' he said.

'No. My sister had it hanging with the chain gathered.'

I stopped him from cutting anymore. I didn't want it flush with the ceiling. He disagreed with me. Made a point of muttering about it. Repeatedly.

I was already feeling that tightness in my chest. I am a pain in the ass about my stuff. I like it in tact. I like it perfect. I like things just so.

But I didn't. Say. Anything.

I just don't have it in me. Even if I did have a point...he's Grandpa.

And I know my place.

(Said only partially in jest, sadly. The Pit can talk all the shit he wants about my mother, brother-in-law, cousins; but if I even say I don't want something that Grandpa built it's taken personally and turns ugly.)

***

Cranky baby.

Muddy floors.

Lamp...antique lamp...altered.

***

I would've liked to have been rude. But I wasn't.

***

He dropped the lamp.

DROPPED the lamp.

From where it had been precariously dangling from the ceiling, to the hardwood floor.

It didn't completely shatter, but it cracked in a few places.

I wanted to cry.

But I was too busy being grateful that it didn't bonk my sweet little girl in the head while she played at her great-grandpa's feet.

'Want me to just wait for my brother-in-law?'

'Nope, nope.'

He apologized. I accepted.

He offered again to cut more of the chain.

I declined.

'I like it WITH the chain. I want the chain.'

 ***

The lamp is now up.

Grandpa has gone home.

The stepladder is where he left it.

The Cute is finally napping, after a heartwrenching half hour of her screaming like she was being killed.

I swept up the dirt and mopped up the mud.

And life goes on.

***

Just...

Sometimes...

When you...

(I, anyway)

have a bad day...

You need a 'Hey, I know that was rough. You handled that really well. I'm sorry, I know you're upset.'

And that's it.

***

I don't have a personal vendetta against Grandpa, nor do I want to call him on all of his flaws.

But...

Does The Bottomless Pit really HAVE to flip out when I don't talk about him as if he's some kind of saint?

***

The Pit called me.

I was crying.

I composed myself, but he asked what was wrong.

My voice shakes when I'm upset. No hiding it, yo.

I told him...

'I had a really bad day.'

He was sympathetic at first, so I continued.

Told him about the mud that was everywhere but on the doormats, the chain, the cracked lamp...

And he said...

'You weren't mean to Grandpa, were you?'.

***

Crazy cat lady isn't sounding so bad.

***

Humor me.

Who/what is off limits to your man?

I wish mine were this defensive about his child.