I am Irish, like for real Irish not just today is St Patrick’s Day Irish. My maternal grandmother is from County Down and came here as a young woman to make a life for herself. I grew up with beef stew on St Paddy’s day, green whatever clothes wise (NEVER Orange) and of course Irish Soda bread. When I had my own family I did a more traditional corned beef dinner with potatoes and carrots. Sorry I hate cabbage and only ate beef stew for my Grandmother’s sake (also only ate sardines for her). I started coloring my kids milk green when they were little and fed them green pancakes whenever the holiday fell on the weekend. It was silly but they loved it so whatever it was what it was. Now enter the current day and the Grandbabies are living with me.
First things this morning M1 messages me “Did you color the girls milk green? Did they like it? When is dinner can me, boytoy and the roommates come over for dinner? What did the girls outfits look like?” My heart sort of broke in sadness. I am not supposed to have to do this anymore. You are supposed to be doing this for your children. You are supposed to be carrying on whatever traditions you like. I am supposed to be retiring and just getting the photos of the kids in the outfits you bought them. But no here we are and no there isn’t much we can do about it.
OK so since they were coming over for dinner I might as well enjoy the day and take the kids hiking but first cook the Irish Soda bread. Yum the house smells so good now so yep time for a walk for sure.
We had a lot of fun on the walk though it was really muddy in parts. I love the woods and walking so that part it good. The babies love to run so we try to find places for them to do it safely. I made sure to throw in some education for all involved. I told M2 and her BFF about mating calls of geese and how they attract a mate. Also the different colorings which denote males and females. I talked to the babies about how tree roots is how the trees eat and “get their yums”. When we came out of the woods we were greeted by 2 Search and Rescue Teams and their vans. Yikes the older ones freaked until I pointed out how to tell if it was training or for real. Yes it was training. OK not really one of the educational things I thought I would have to explain but who cares knowledge is knowledge.
When we were about to come home, boytoy calls. M1 blew off work again claiming she was miscarrying. Please don’t get me wrong, but we go through this every pregnancy and despite the fact I have told her time and time again what a miscarriage actually looks like, she gets attention doing it this way. I get so tired of it and it angers me to think she is playing when there are so many folks trying for real and miscarrying for real. Boytoy asks if I can pick him up from work while M1 is at the hospital, ok whatever you live next door, sure. I go to pick him up and he asks to go to the hospital where M1is located. OK dude it is 715 your kids are in their car seats and hungry, dinner is in the crockpot they need to eat now!!!! I drop him off and hate myself for being so freaking angry but here we are. En route home M1 calls and sure enough she is being discharged can everyone still come for dinner.
They eat dinner with us and of course I take the lead in getting the kids down for bed. Boytoy is playing with the kids for a bit, and M1 is feeding into her roommate drama while they chatter about some stupid crap. I am so freaking tired of this already and remind them its a daycare/work night. I go upstairs to empty the cat box and put away laundry. I remind them the dinner table needs to be cleaned and dishes in the dishwasher. The begrudgingly assist with the chores then announce they are leaving, fine don’t care get out. The babies are all wound up and now crying. I almost shove everyone out of the house for crying out loud it is 10pm the kids are usually asleep now. Sigh seems like a never ending uphill battle so let focus on the positive. Dinner was good and the hike was fun.
I am going to have to find a way to balance this better so I am not so angry and the babies stay on schedule.