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Guys, I have a confession to make. I was not very Melissa Gorga-like today.
In fact, there were several times when I thought in my head, “What would Melissa Gorga do?” and I STILL did the opposite. Oops.
The morning started out rough. I was still getting over a terrible migraine from the night before. If you’ve ever had a migraine, you know what I mean when I say there were still remnants of the headache lingering when I woke up.
Due to the migraine, I let my husband get up with our daughter while I stayed in bed a little later. I even let them go get bagels so I wouldn’t have to cook everyone breakfast. Meanwhile, two hours up the Parkway, Melissa Gorga was probably serving up mimosas and French toast in a cute Sunday football-watching outfit.
I, on the other hand, was still in my pajama sweats. Yes, you heard me right. I slept in my grubby, unfitted gray sweatpants and a t-shirt. Experiment be damned, that night was doomed for romance once the migraine hit.
I remained in my unsexy pajamas throughout the morning. Even though I wasn’t feeling my best, I tried to still project some Melissa Gorga niceness and let my husband watch his Formula 1 race on TV without having to deal with the children. Mind you, this race takes a good two hours to watch, so this was very considerate of me.
I kept everyone entertained upstairs as best as I could. Whenever we did go downstairs, it was only to give kisses and hugs and baby slobbers to my husband. Or to show him the baby’s cute outfit. I dressed him in an adorable ensemble that said “Daddy’s Crew” or some other car jargon on it. (I would have taken a picture, but he pretty much instantly pooped right through it.)
After his race was over, my husband took our daughter outside to play. I decided to attempt to pull myself together with some coffee and a shower. I put on my sexy sweatpants.
For lunch, my husband could sense that I wasn’t going to make us anything so he went out to get sandwiches. He came back with a chicken sandwich for me that had mayonnaise on it.
Since I hate mayonnaise more than any other food on the planet, the old me would have freaked out and insisted that he go back and get me a new one. But I just said, “I’m sure it was a mistake. I’ll just eat around the mayo,” while slowly dying inside.
In the afternoon, I had a sudden burst of energy and wanted to decorate my house with Halloween decorations, like the Gorga house surely is. I found a crafty idea on Pinterest and decided to go to AC Moore to get supplies.
I said, “I’ll take L with me, and you can watch the baby. He’s easier.”
“Actually, he’s not easier, and I’d rather watch L,” said my husband.
“Fine, I’ll just take both with me,” I said, very agreeably. Both of the kids were in good moods and it wasn’t going to be a big deal for me to bring them.
That’s when my husband flipped out and we had our first real fight of The Melissa Gorga Experiment.
“Ahhhh! I don’t want you working this hard! You can’t take both of them! I shouldn’t have said anything!” he said angrily.
I was confused. “I’m being nice,” I told him. “What’s your problem?”
He then confessed that he has no idea how to handle this new way that I have been behaving the past several days. It is actually scaring him. He is convinced that I am going to lose it and have a major meltdown from keeping all my usual anger and bitchiness bottled up.
I reacted very calmly and said that I’m fine and that by not allowing myself to react in my normal bratty way, I am changing my behavior pattern. And guess what? It actually feels good to be nice all the time.
I mean, so far…it has only been six days, though. Any bets on when I’m going to crack like my husband thinks and have a major blowout?
Keep reading The Melissa Gorga Experiment: Day 7…