I had a pop up playdate the other day. The kind of thing where one mom says to another "We should get together..." and instead of saying "We Should" I said "Sure, what are you doing right now?"
It worked out fine. Very fine in fact. Almost perfectly.
The mom was loquacious, interesting, laid back, funny, articulate. The girls got on, I was quasi relaxed (once I put behind me the idea that I was going to get anything done)
I had the time because I put the boys in childcare 2 days a week.
For which I feel awful. Horrible. Very 1% not occupying. very lady of the manor. Very...something.
But the reality is, after 14 months of being the primary caretaker, after an arduous pregnancy, after myriad doctors appointments, after my son screaming for, what was for me, the last and final time... it was time.
It was a shitload of money. It IS a shitload.
It's 2 car payments.
It's a bunch of new furnishings.
It's a million things, my husbands time for mine.
A waste.
and I'm no further "ahead". I'm not using the time enriching, I'm not relaxing, I'm not organizing, I'm not getting thinner, I'm not getting anything done.
ut I'm trying. Trying to make better choices. Trying to spend a minute spending a minute with. Trying to, instead of rushing home to do, taking time to do with.
We've gone bowling. Miniature golfing. We visited.
We've gone to the park.
But the list of what we haven't done is even longer.
I'm taking forever to set the stage and not enough time acting in the play.
But that's another story.
A different post.
None of this is going to make sense because I'm typing where my head leaves off thus no perspective.
But hopefully I can write enough, about her, about them, to capture something in the next, to make up for not recording the last.
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