My husband is sitting nearby, strumming his guitar and watching hockey. It is about 8:30 and the sounds of it all go right through me. The hockey announcers are about to cause me to have an anxiety attack with their choppy, panic inducing words. The guitar- well, I feel bad. It was my idea to get it back out so that Harry could be exposed to it. My sweet Muffin is working on two of my favorite songs - and yet I want to pull my hair out while jumping off of the roof! I think what I had in mind for the guitar was for it to be played during normal hours. Muffin complains that it is only 8:30.
When did 8:30 become late? I used to start getting ready for the evening at 8:30, with the music cranked up! I used to know what Jay Leno looked like. I used to wear tank tops to bars in winter. Did I know a few years back that all of that "craziness" would be short lived? The strangest part of all is that it wasn't that long ago. If I knew then what I know now, I would have worn more bikinis, stayed awake later, traveled more.
I am not sure I know anyone who actually went out on New Years Eve this year. That includes childless couples and those who are single. Okay, I lied. My friend Andrew's 50-something parents have been partying lock rock stars. I went to a mountain resort in the poconos but didn't stay up late enough to see Dick Clarke.
There is a show currently on TV called How I Met Your Mother. It is quirky and I like it and odds are it will be cancelled. Regardless, it reminds me of my post college days, hanging out with a small group of friends in the bars of Baltimore. I guess in a way, those days seemed like vacation. We had just finished a busy phase in our lives, and we were hanging out for a while, preparing for the next one. Of course, I didn't have the cash to travel throughout Europe, and I didn't have the money for a personal trainer. I had to go to sleep at some point so I could wake up and make a name for myself in business world. Still...
The next phase is here for me, and it's not what I expected. I like staying home with my son. I am not that ambitious at work. It is kind of okay that I can barely run a 10 minute mile. I would never have imagines that slowing down could sustain me.
My biggest worry is that everything I have worked so hard for could be taken away in an instant. I guess that worry is a lot to manage. Maybe that is what makes me want to go to bed at 9:30, instead of gettig a sitter to watch Harry sleep so that I can hit the bars...or an 8:30 kick boxing class, for that matter!
I was 30 when Harry was born. I'd had plenty of time to have fun, and I think I did a fair job of that. It's time for me to be a soccer mom now. I love my little house. I want to fill it with furniture from Pottery Barn kids. I love my mini-van (but I did get a stealie for it). Rather than taking advantage of some free time, Kevin and I both take Harry to his gymnastics class, his swim class, out for his bike rides and to his room for his 2 hour bedtime rituals. I guess it is not so bad to be responsible at the moment. I guess, in the words of my father, that's what you do. Besides, I can party like a rock star when I'm 50.