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The Single Gal

A few nights ago a single girl friend came by to gab, drink wine and share some pizza. This is a friend who has known me for years -- about the time when I met The Prince, obviously before the Rabbit was born.

She chatted about some parties she had been to, a few dinners, a benefit she's going to next week. None of which I attended -- nor could, I imagine because of the Rabbit, and well, my life. But I wondered, does she not think of asking me to go to these things because I am, truthfully, rarely available? "Yes. You're a mother. You're never free."

I remember when I first met The Prince the cosiness of having someone to spend my evenings and weekends with was wonderful. But then again, we loved our social life too. I don't think of us as the kind of couple that would suck face when friends came by, or murmer exclusively while joining pals at a bar for a Thursday night out. Nor did we think twice of going out nights without the other. But then the rabbit appeared. And suddenly, those lovely evenings nestled in front of a movie with a bottle of wine became nights passed out on the couch in the same sweatpants from the day before. And girls nights out? I could barely stay awake past appetizers. Forget drinks.

The Prince and I made a choice to try and stay connected (we believed) even after the Rabbit was born. We do go out for dinner, we do (although rarely) go out to see friends. I do make a effort to try and step out from under what must be my invisibility cloak.

But obviously not enough. When did I pass from au courant to M-O-M?

Comments

Kate B. said…
I think it's a combination of something happening to your brain while pregnant (that never quite goes away), being exhausted 80% of the time, being in an exclusive relationship for a long time, and child-induced poverty. Oh, yes, and the attitude of your single friends who never quite understand all of the above. In fact, when I was at home with the kids, a number of my single friends would call me up and sigh "Oh, I wish I could be at home all day like you, it must be so restful." Cue my slightly deranged laughter...
Manhattan Mama said…
These are the friends where we all wish we could be flies on the wall when their rabbits are born...even The Prince will say, "It must be so nice to be able to be home during the day with her....you can get so much done." Ummmm like....laundry? mistakes in stories I try to write while answering the same 3 questions about Dumbo? ("Yes, the feather wil make him fly -- like it has the last 97 times we've watched this!")
I do so love being home with her. I also do SO love frozen margaritas (no salt) and staying out past "bed time."
Anonymous said…
wow, mm, you're spot-on. i can't even think of a clever way to express how much this post captured how i frequently feel on the couch of an evening, with my beloved and with munchkins tucked away in bed, but barely enough energy even to open a bottle of wine. spontaneity? serendipity? passion? ha! but then, it IS so cozy. bittersweet.

(referring to 11/11 comments) if you want to pull out all the stops, you can get a half-hour foot scrub (that makes your feets soft as a baby's), then an hour's foot massage, for the princely sum of $10! (and that's with generous tip.) it's rather nuts. i will go into withdrawal whenever we move "back west".
Bec said…
I so know that feeling. Also, it's not just the single gal pals. Friends with teenagers who are just picking up the reins of their social lives again can be just as, um, forgetful of us with littlies!
Kate B. said…
hi bec
I haven't got to that stage yet - most of my friends are resolutely childless. I'm expecting to get to the teenage stage myself before they manage to reproduce! And then I will truly enjoy tormenting them... :-)

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