So yesterday I had a lovely breather. I got to go out (gasp) by myself and go out to lunch with two dear friends.
It helps that they don't have kids or husbands at this point, so I can for just a little while fool myself that I have left my darling men figuratively (not just literally) behind me for a few hours. One of my friends is about to be married in October. Their honeymoon is three weeks Down Under, and I told her I was completely jealous and wanted to live vicariously through her. My other friend just got an exciting new job, and is also pursuing her MBA.
Their lives seem so much more exciting than mine, and I sit and drink in their less-tethered-than-mine existence. Not to say that I would trade what I have for the world, it is just nice to think back to the days when I could sit and read the paper without a tiny being doing the "pajama-jam dance" to vie for my attention.
Of course, we would have to have the booth behind us occupied by a couple who in our opinion, needed to break out a serious can of whup-ass on their loud, screaming toddler son. After you have said, "Shhhhhhhhhhh" for the thousandth time and it hasn't worked, it is really time for a new approach. Sadly, that approach never came, and our meal was peppered all through with loud screeches, whines, and tantrums. I think all three of us were ready to escort the child out of the restaurant ourselves when they finally left.
Then on to Starbucks for (completely overpriced, almost three bucks for a tiny cup!) tea for me and coffee for them. Intelligent conversation that ranged from the state of education to the housing market to the organist my friend fired from her wedding. I did mangage to forget about my fairly unexciting life for a short time, and damn, it felt kind of good to get away.
But as I pulled into the garage, I could not wait to see Mr. Personality. I missed him and wanted to see the adorable little face I hadn't seen for four and a half hours. I was going to rush in and throw my arms around him, showering him with kisses.
My arrival was greeted with barely an acknowledgement of my presence, as throwing pillows off the sofa was counted as a much bigger life priority than welcoming old whats-her-name back. Ahhhh, home sweet home.