It has come to my attention of late that I am not the only one dealing with the following so I thought I’d share my thoughts. I have had a LOT of thoughts to share lately but no time to do the sharing, so along with all of the other guilt I carry now is the “Update the blog” guilt. Part of the issue is many of my items have to do with life at home, including my husband, who has expressly forbidden his inclusion in the blog except in terms describing him glowingly and in the best possible light. He is a good husband and a great father but nonetheless this blog does concern something a trifle annoying.
(I believe he has some sort of alert when I write about him that allows him to immediately know about it and pay attention, in a way he does not when I’m asking him to, say, fix the fridge. Since he’s home today [NOISY work from home conditions to say the least, how do couples survive who both work from home??] I will take this opportunity to say hey, if you are alerted and have read this far, can you call about the refrigerator?)
This is the thing: the going out. I’m not talking about wild nights in Vegas or even semi-wild nights at Indian Casinos. I’m talking about leaving the house without any or all of my children in some way attached, to attend a meeting or MAYBE, MAYBE have a drink with a friend. I can get away with one night a week, IF I have the kids fed, homeworked, cleaned, etc. Two nights, however, is met with mass uprising from the father and the children.
Number one. When he meets friends, which I totally don’t mind, I don’t ask him to first come home and feed/clean/homework the kids. I do it. And then when I go out…I still do it. Number two. Sometimes, sometimes I have to go out twice in a week. I mean, the upside to the round of complaining that ensues (“You are NEVER here” (lie) “You are ALWAYS out” (exaggeration) “I MIIIISSSSSSSSS You” (sweet, but I’m ALWAYS here so how can you miss me and follow up, if you miss me why are you so fresh?) is that I get so indignant about it I don’t feel one iota of guilt for gasp, taking two hours away from the house.
I got extra dirty looks, I felt, the other night when I ended up having to go to the ER after a night out to dinner with a friend. The ER was related to a stupid ongoing stomach issue but the point is, it was as if I had chosen to end my dinner by losing said dinner (that’s gross, I know, but it proves my point that no one would actually choose it) and then spending 8 hours with the fine folks at the hospital. It was like I couldn’t get sympathy (not that I was asking for it but still) for the ER BECAUSE it had been preceded by one of my many, many, many nights out.
For a while, I wasn’t allowed out without the baby, who came to all manner of restaurants and meeting places–I realized, in fact that the only time I’d been without her was two meetings with my doctor, whose town council campaign I was helping on. How WEIRD is it that my social calendar, for a year, included either my baby or my OB/GYN?
So I’m not alone in this. One friend could feel the resentful eyes of her husband from 3 floors away after she spent two nights in a row, gasp, at board meetings. Another, after heading out (with kids in bed, tucked away) hears “Must be nice”. Here’s how she reacted: she stayed out till 2:30 am at a wine bar, having an awesome time with girl friends. YES, indeed it WAS nice.