My mother-in-law Barbara is flying up from Maryland later today. No, there won’t be any mother-in-law bashing in this post. I hit the jackpot when I met my husband. I not only got a fantastic husband, but a great extended family as well. My son Owen has been wandering around all week muttering, “I can’t wait for Grammie to be here.”
The boys were a little disappointed to hear that Grammie’s visit wouldn’t last all the way until Christmas. So in my typical speak before you think style I said, “Don’t worry. We’ll have Christmas before she leaves. I’ll roast a turkey and we’ll make a pie.”
“Can we open presents?” Owen asked.
“Can we have apple pie?” James asked.
“Can we have pumpkin pie?” Owen asked.
“Of course!” I answered to each of their questions.
Now the visit is upon us and the house isn’t quite as clean as I’d like it to be for Barbara’s visit. Fortunately, I’ve been married to her son for fourteen years now. She knows I’m absolutely obsessive when it comes to finding great gifts and making tasty meals. But my obsession ends a little before housekeeping starts.
I try. I really do. Okay, maybe I don’t try that hard. It’s a simple matter of priorities and making choices. Let’s see, I have time to either make homemade meatballs or scrub the bathtub—the meatballs win. I mean, those are really good meatballs. How about this one—there is a pile of shirts that need to be ironed and my kids want me to watch Finding Nemo with them. Nemo and the boys swim away with my time and attention. And, yes to the multi-tasking crowd, I suppose I could set up the ironing board and iron while I watch. But then, how will the boys cuddle up to me when Nemo and Dory encounter the sharks? And I won’t get any popcorn!
Take right now for instance. There is a week’s worth of unsorted mail cluttering up the dining room table and my mother in law’s plane lands in about an hour. But I’m also trying to make writing a priority. Once again, I have chosen the creative task over the practical one. At least there are clean sheets on the guest room bed, both bathrooms are sparkling, and the dishes are washed… most of them.
I would do exactly what you do. I mean, they only let you snuggle with them once. There will always be laundry!
ReplyDeleteI'm a mom of an Owen, too. How old is yours? Mine will be five in February. Great name!
Nancy-Thanks for stopping by! Owen is 8 and fortunately still a snuggler :-) and he's fond of telling anyone who'll listen that his name means "noble warrior"!
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