I can't even begin to express how ridiculously excited I am that we have officially hit a point where we are not busy every single day of the weekend. Tomorrow, I have exactly zero to do. I mean, I'm sure I probably should do a bunch of crap but I am required to do none of it. Well, nothing that requires leaving the confines of this apartment. That right there is enough to make my entire year and it's not even a full week in yet.
However...
Today was pure torture. For starters, I am not a huge fan of photography. Let's just say that I harbor a lot of insecurity. I used to be a smaller, more petite girl and now I've had three children and could absolutely use some exercise and diet control. However, I'll be honest when I say that I am not one to limit myself with portion control or the types of food that I eat and my physical limitations have kept me from doing the activity necessary to maintain my intake of food. So, that leave me at a "bit" of a disadvantage proportion wise.
Anywho, today we were doing portraits with my man's family. We're all a dysfunctional sort (my family has always been this way so it's nothing new to me) and sometimes, we all just clash with our plethora of personalities. We chalk it up to, "We love big and fight big" but if we're honest with ourselves, it's usually us just being a bunch of assholes. I asked what the theme of the portraits would be (such as color coordination and whatnot) and was not given any input other than, "I don't do gimmicks." Fair enough. I decide that my family will be dressed in black and white with jeans and nice shoes. For those of you with the extra junk in the trunk (and everywhere else, for that matter) you probably are familiar with the fact that black is a little more slimming than say, oh, I don't know--white. Ick. White. Well, the clothes that I picked out for my little brood weren't good enough for the family portraits so the man and I were hijacked into some other clothes. I'm not going to lie that I am not only annoyed at this point but genuinely hurt. It's not like we looked like a bunch of bums (although I know for a fact that that word exactly was used). Our children were going to be dressed in brand new stark white shirts with nice new jeans and shoes and the hubster and I were in nice black T-shirts (form-fitting) so maybe it's not a pressed button-up but what the hell am I supposed to go on when given no direction? I was told more "casual" so... I went with casual. So now, I'm grouchy because there was no reason I should have spent the past few days stressing over (and purchasing) the clothes we got because we weren't allowed to wear them anyways. *grumble*
No problem, I'm going to play along because his sister went through the trouble of setting this up. I figure we'll have time to change if we don't like how we look in the clothes. So, we all leave and we start to follow his sister. We figure she knows where she is going since she set up the appointment. Apparently, she was going to slow for him so he asked me to look up the place on Google Maps and follow the directions. He passes her and we travel a ways and he passes someone on the right---on the right?---yes, on the right. I tell him that we were almost at our exit (one of the few that is on the left hand side of the interstate) and he should have passed on the left. Suddenly, there is our exit. POOF! He careens like a crazy person into the far left lane and exits. Next thing he knows, his phone is ringing. He answers it and it is his sister, screaming at him because she missed the exit because he was driving like a maniac. I grant her that he was maneuvering like a stunt driver but I'm totally baffled as to how someone can set up an appointment at a studio and have no knowledge of it's location. Also, if you are planning on following someone, you need to let them know or else they won't drive like someone is following them.
Needless to say, after much grouching from the hubster and I (his dad was in the van with us) we make it to the studio and so does his sister. He's still getting the cold shoulder from his mom and sister and my temper is starting to boil over. I take the toddler and go hang out in the van while the photographer sets up, trying to get my blood pressure down.
Look, I know this is insanely hypocritical coming from someone who yells at the slightest provocation but you really can't treat people like that. At the very least, you should fucking try to regulate your emotions and you should try to treat people that do you a lot of favors (such as siphoning out a poop hole) with respect. And as much as I care about his family it seems like my guy is shit on more than he is respected. And it saddens me that he gets it from everywhere he goes. The exception is that I am actively trying to become a better person and maintain my disorder. Most of his relatives do no such thing. (Granted, neither do mine, so that is something we both have in common.)
I will say that I was blessed with some lunch at Ted's (delicioso!), got a new couch that will fit in swimmingly with our living room at the house and also got to have coffee with my pregnant friend--well, I had coffee, she had water and several trips to the bathroom. But now, I am at home with all three of my handsome men and my beautiful little girlie girl and am going to snuggle up to watch some Supernatural. I am such a Castiel fangirl, it's ridic. It's so ridic it makes me type things like "ridic." Okay, now I'm going to go let my brain turn to sludge for the next hour or two and then crash like Enron.
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