Life as a Non-Bachelorette

I have a confession to make: I watch The Bachelorette. Perhaps I just lost a little bit of your respect, but alas, I cannot deny that this glorified depiction of a harem of men all dating one girl sucks me in every Monday night. I missed it this week because we took Sam to the pool, but I planned ahead (which rarely happens these days) and recorded it. So yesterday I found myself doing laundry, feeding Sam and changing diapers as I watched Ali date her way through the last 6 well-built suitors.

If you missed this episode, you should probably take a break now and download it on Hulu.com, because this week found Ali and her fellas in gorgeous Istanbul visiting immense Turkish baths, perusing local spice markets, buying fancy rugs for exorbitant prices, etc. The city was unexpectedly breathtaking and I lost myself a little in the slightly mysterious and brilliantly colorful old world of Istanbul.

And Then. (ominous "dun dun dun" here) A Smell. I glanced down from the panoramic views of Turkey to a telling look on Sam's face and I knew what was coming. I paused the DVR just as Ali's third date was declaring his unconditional, three-weeks old love for her to the camera somewhere during their date. (side note: Do they take time out to interview them during their dates? Seems like that would be a real mood-killer.) While Ali's earnest date was frozen mid-declaration on my tv screen against a backdrop of majestic domed mosques, I changed a diaper that left me needing smelling salts.

I paused for a moment to consider the intensely different situations: Ali in exotic Turkey being courted by 6 handsome men and me in our Tennessee living room witnessing the result of digested apples and prunes. Sigh. I laughed out loud, which is always a little weird when you're alone, or semi-alone. This was one of the more "welcome to the reality of motherhood" moments that I've had lately. I'm obviously not envying Ali the Bachelorette's unusual dating life, but I must admit to wanting a little of the perks that come with it. Maybe I should be more specific.

I'd love to hang out in a Basilica Cistern in Istanbul and have dinner in the middle of a backlit pool of water with a handsome man (obviously, Matt), but what I could really go for is a night out with my husband, wearing something that hasn't been chewed on and eating something I haven't just microwaved.

Here's hoping that this weekend includes a dinner date sans diapers and baby food.