We watched 2 episodes of the new comedy Happy Endings this week. Overall? Interesting. And not in The Cape's "I'll give it a try because I really like sci-fi/comic book movies". Really interesting. Kinda funny. Quirky. I won't say much except that it's up at Hulu. Give it a look-see and let me know what YOU think. When they cut to the main guy in the HERS bathrobe in his bedroom during the pilot with some fantastic music in the background, I kinda wept with joy a little. I'll keep watching and hope that we didn't blow through the best ideas in the first two episodes.
I mention it, of course, because one of the characters had this great line about having babies and moving to the suburbs and suddenly it being 5 years later and having butch mom hair while driving a red minivan and I was all "OMGOMGOMG THIS SHOW SPEAKS TO ME!"
Why is that? Well, I recollect a time in my life when living in my cute turn of the century Cherry Creek home, mere weeks before my first child was born and saying to my husband You know, some people just allow their homes to be taken over by toys and children. I never want to be one of those people. Ever.
A mere year later, that self-same chic Cherry Creek living room, with the wide doorway between the fireplaced sitting room and the full dining room was walled in with backward bookshelves, a coffee table in front of the fireplace, a baby gate across the other large entryway to keep the baby off the stairs, and a thick carpet of toys, books, and half-saliva-soaked cheerios covering 75% of the floor.
I don't generally walking around saying to Moms-to-be "When you have kids, you'll understand" because generally that's dosed out with a large amount of preemptive judgment and bitchiness, but I can say this - until I had kids, the Happy Endings girl's freak-out was exactly how I felt as well - but a mere year later, when I was swallowed by the momness of it all, I wasn't upset in the least.
Had my standards fallen? I don't think so. My expectations, wants, needs, they all changed. I didn't understand until I was a mom. And again, not in a judgmental way, but in the way that, say, you don't understand that the world holds nearly 100 flavors of Kit Kat bars (so I've heard, but I don't *get* it, you know?) until you visit Japan home of the Green Tea and Corn flavored Kit Kats.
If you want to talk about standards falling, let's talk about now. I'm not only the woman who I was once terrified of - I'm the woman who once repulsed me - wearing a maternity tank & avalanche pants covered in baby spitup, hair in a ponytail, watching the baby roll around on a crumby floor, still mulling over whether simply flipping the baby-spitup-covered pillow was the right call at 3 am or proof that I've fallen and can't get up.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not feeling sorry for myself or where I am. Baby spit-up isn't to endure, it's to celebrate. It's awesome. It's a totally different life. And please note: not better or worse than someone who lives differently than I. Just different. *I* happen to love it in ways I did NOT love life before the kids took over, though you will note: I do not yet drive a minivan. I'm fighting that one tooth and nail.
But the minivan hatred aside (a hatred that will one-day be consumed with squeals of "Oh my god there's SO MUCH ROOM!!!"), the me of 10 years ago would be utterly appalled at the me of today. And you know what? She can suck an egg, man. Because the me of today is covered in baby spit and loving it.
My buddy is set to have a baby in an hour or so and I feel the deep need to give her a shout out during this terrifying and awesome time. Congrats and welcome to the ride, friend. You never know, you might end up in a minivan. . .
Minivans for all :)
ReplyDeleteWe watched Happy Endings too, and we liked it as well. You should also check out "Traffic Light."
ReplyDeleteAnd as for momness, here's the thing: it is constantly changing. The bleary-eyed, sweat pants covered in spit-up stage only lasts for a year or so. Then you move on to trying to keep the toddler from killing his/herself stage when they get into Every. Damn. Thing. and climb all over the place. Then you move onto preschool, etc. etc. My point is that you may be appalled by your current stage of momness, or maybe not, but you will become a different mom very soon whether you like it or not. You might actually have a hip looking house again someday, but balance it out with a minivan (with flames painted on the sides or something so that it isn't TOO lame...) So all is well in momland, enjoy the ride.