My MIL was here this weekend, which meant I spent Friday trapped under the baby–who only wants to nurse and nap on me–wishing I could clean the place. Ditto for the first half of Saturday. Friday night, after being so pinned all day, I was so desperate for some time away that I fled to my friends’ house for a beer. “Fled” as in first went to pick up a pizza for C for dinner, then returned home with pizza to find toddler having a meltdown, baby crying, and yogurt spilled all over the couch (and side of the couch, and living room carpet).
Huh. I’m pretty sure we still have the “No Food in the Living Room” rule in effect for toddlers, unless it’s pretzels and he has a toddler pal over to play.
It was hard to tear myself away from this compelling family scene, but somehow I managed to after doing something householdish like trying to wipe up some of the yogurt while giving C dirty looks or a kiss or something. It was kind of a blur, really.
At my friends’ house, I immediately realized that my energy had completely drained several hours earlier. I accepted the beer I was handed, admired their beautiful container-garden patio, and watched them grill CSA meats and veggies. Then–barely awake–I dutifully ate some food, tried not to pass out from sheer fatigue face-down on my plate, and sheepishly excused myself the second they finished eating. I mean, I don’t think they were finished chewing.
By that point I had probably impressed upon them my terribly out-of-shape social skills by using the word “Awesome” in response to absolutely everything they told me and by answering questions with the sort of rambling monologue that makes the questioner wish he or she hadn’t asked in the first place.
Yeah. That’s me! First time out on my own in months! I’ve become socially maladapted and generally lame.
No matter. I got out. For nearly two hours.
My goal is to continue such jaunts. They’d be easier if my close friends would stop moving out of state, but whatever. And as soon as my knee is fully healed, I’ll be out mountain biking every weekend, hurrah! And running as much as I can.
Until then, I’m just lactating, lactating, lactating. And doing laundry: between the baby’s cloth diapers and the toddler’s potty training, there’s a lot to launder.