My Weakness

I’m a member of this mommy board on Facebook (no, you can’t join).  Usually, we just ask questions like ‘what if my baby does this’ or ‘ is that normal’ or post pictures that say ‘LOOK AT THE HUGE EFF’ING SPIDER/SNAKE I FOUND IN MY KIDS MOUTH!’  Okay, not in the kids’ mouth but in or around the house.  Then everyone gets all yucked out, we swear we won’t post those pictures anymore and we don’t… for a week or so.

We also post fun, get-to-know-you questions, because even though we’ve been chatting for wow, about 2 years now, we’re just still internet-mommy-board-group friends.

Today someone asked, “What would you tell your 14 year old self?”  And my first thought was NOTHING.  Everything I’ve gone through has brought me to this place- this place where I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter (with another on the way), a pretty fantastic lifestyle and happiness.  Not like happiness abounding, but enough that I feel content.

Then, I hit some sort of weird emotional wall.  It’s the end of the year, end of our time in Guatemala.  People are starting to say their goodbyes with last dinners and last drinks and last trips.  And I’m not really included on any of them.  One friend said, “Well, I’m having a bar-hopping party and, even though I know that’s not your thing normally, and especially now since you can’t drink, I’m inviting you.  To dinner.  We’ll be pretty hammered by then but still, it’d be cool if you came.”  And I thought, “Um.  No.”  Because it won’t be fun for me.  Drunk people are funny for a minute if you’re not drunk.  Then they’re not funny anymore.

But I was planning to go because I like this girl and she’s moving to another part of the world, and I’m moving to another part of the world and I thought it’d be a good chance to at least say goodbye.  Come to find out, she’s having a small, intimate dinner with some people this week that does not include bar-hopping.  Something that is definitely more my style.  But I wasn’t invited.

I know that my lack of friends is mostly my fault.  I am an adult, I can accept the responsibility.  I am not outgoing, I don’t like clubbing or bar-hopping, even when I’m not pregnant.  I’m a homebody and it’s usually okay.  I prefer sleep to a lot of other activities.  If I was going to design the perfect hang-out night, it would involve around ten people, dinner and drinks at someone’s house with music in the background and the ability to talk to each other.  And, if I wasn’t pregnant, I would drink wine and probably get tipsy-ish, talk too much, stay up too late, and it’d be fun.

But it seems like all the people I know want to just get drunk.  And scream and yell and dance have massive hangovers the next day.  That’s just not a fun night for me.

I also know that I don’t put in as much effort as I should and I can take the blame for that as well.  I’m kind of lazy and we have to be penny-pinchers here.  I also like being at home with my daughter.  I’m always calculating how much something will cost, how long it will take, and if I’ll miss seeing the Lady Bug that day.  It’s harder to be a social go-getter when the thing you want to go get is waiting for you at home with an adorable grin and a goofy outfit.

Hence, me not being invited many places.  And only getting bummed about it now and then.  Today is a now, apparently.

I need a different group of friends to choose from.  I’m ready for adults with responsibilities and bedtimes to get home to.  I want to talk about what cute thing my kid did today and have other people not only say “awww” but follow it up with something cute their kid did.  I need real life mommy friends.

What did I finally decide to tell my 14- and 34 year old self?  This:  If people wanted to hang out with you, they would.  Which then made me kind of sad.

But I’m also a little hormonal today, so we can blame this whole post on that if we want.


One thought on “My Weakness

  1. Awww, I feel the exact same way with my friends here. I wish we lived closer to each other…we could hang out, have fun, then go home and snuggle our babies and not have hangovers the next day. Hang in there, chica!


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