I spent this weekend alone with Maggie while my husband partied in Nashville (frat brother’s wedding). I would have gone, but my belly button is too close to popping, and I didn’t want to find out that my baby was “done” in the city where Minnie Pearl couldn’t find scissors to lose that tacky tag.
Anyhow, Maggie’s ear troubles crept up again and she spent the weekend in tears with a fever hovering between 101 and 103ish. Yup–it was a weekend of no sleep and bad food while trapped in stale pajamas.
Within an hour of Bret due home last night, I decided to consider my appearance and sauntered up to the mirror. Bad move. I tried to remember when I last showered as I named each of the child-induced stains covering my shirt…strawberry jello, cheese, chocolate, snot.
Suddenly, in some state of denial, my mind lept ahead to next Friday, when several girlfriends and I will hit the big town of Ludington. We plan to get dressed up and go to dinner and then see the newly released “Sex and the City” movie.
I stood there thinking about how I am sooooooo looking forward to next Friday night. How ironic though, given the fact that there was a time in my life when such an event was normal.
A little less than two years ago, I had a full-time career outside of my home teaching fifth grade. I felt a bit of power as the “bread-winner” since I was making more than my husband, who was still in training at the time. I didn’t make that much money, but I had enough to look forward to socializing quite often on the weekends.
A good friend of mine and I would often meet after work on Fridays at Houlihan’s inside a local mall. Then we’d take off to shop. She’d go home with a new pair of shoes, and I might enjoy the prize of a new pair of jeans or a few items from the make-up counter. Then I’d get home in time to change clothes and accompany my husband to dinner, alone or with another couple.
So I had to wonder as I counted my stains and worried about my husband coming home to see me in such a state, how did I get from there to here? And was there ever any going back?
A few months ago, I purchased a book from that comical Girlfriends Guide series. This one was about getting your “groove” back after having kids. Honestly, after cramming in all of the breastfeeding, what to expect, happiest baby, your child’s first year, and other “mommy” books over the last 20 months, my stomach lurched every time I even thought about picking up my newly purchased book. I guess that I am so far removed from my groove that I cannot even find the time/energy/willpower to read the instruction booklet for getting it back!
Perhaps next Friday night I’ll get just a whiff of the old groove (in my Target preggars dress, a $7.00 Wal-Mart necklace–not much of a sale if you ask me!, and hot-pink TJ Maxx slides…yes, I am so excited that I planned and purchased a new outfit–such as it is–for the event).
On the other hand, perhaps that old me–whoever she was–will never really come back. Maybe she’s not meant to…
As for last night? I quickly peeled off the stain-ridden pajamas, took a hot shower, dried my hair, and welcomed home my husband in the nicest clean pair of pajamas I could find. Somehow, as pregnant and non-groovy as I was at that moment, he was happy to see me…really happy. But I suppose that last part doesn’t belong on the blog!