I've been somewhat more socially active than usual in the last couple of weeks. Mostly it's been fantastic, staying out till late, gulping down fruity alcoholic beverages and even dancing, once I get drunk enough to be convinced that it's a good idea.
Compared to the "partying" I used to do in my angsty youth, this has been waaaay more fun. No long, dark
monologues discussions about how broken I am, or how sad everything is. Just food, fun and lots (and lots and lots and lots) of wine, beer, vodka, etc. Who would have thought I was capable of it, hey? And I've been getting away with it because me drunk is much, much friendlier in general and infinitely friendlier to Hubby in particular, with a couple of toots down the gullet, than me all wired and tied up in knots after a long day at the office and with a mountain of household chores to ignore.
Kind of makes me wish I'd been a bit less intensely self-absorbed while I was single, and more open to life and living it. But ag, you know, regretting all that now is just too much like hard work, hey. So fuck it - It is was what it was, and now it is what it is, and while I'm in the moment, I can almost forget that my single, childless companions sometimes tend to glance at me sideways when they think I'm not looking, as if to say, "Shouldn't you be putting your babies to bed?", only, they don't seem to be able to scrape up the balls to be all in my face about it.
You know what? Being a mom doesn't make you suddenly stop being a person, and it certainly doesn't make you old and boring - not by a long shot. What makes you old and boring is deciding that the roles of wife and mother automatically relegate you to a life of cooking, cleaning, slogging to make ends meet and living unstimulated on any level in perpetuity. And this, my friends, is why god invented babysitters!
That said, and bearing in mind that I don't want to give the babysitter
all of my money, I reckon I get a lot more bang for my buck spending the weekend in the company of others in similar circumstances to my own. In fact, I kind of prefer to entertain at home. The booze is cheaper, there's no worrying about drinking and driving, you can spend the whole weekend listening to music you really like and it doesn't matter if you dance like a dork because there's no-one around that you're trying to impress. Plus you don't have to deal with lecherous old dudes trying to peep down your shirt at the bar. And because the people who are likely to accept your invitation tend to be married, or at least, have been married at some point, with children of their own, you're likely to have more in common - every mother has her own labour/birth horror story to share. And while I'm on the subject, you know what else? Say what you like, until you've done it yourself, you have no right at all to an opinion on the topic other than "Sjoe, that sounds rough!" So, ja, maybe it's boring to all you okes and chicks out there who're still seeing the world and sowing your seed. But here's a little heads-up:
If/when you do eventually
settle down, you won't be running to your single buddies when the baby's got colic and you haven't slept in three weeks and you've just been (literally) shat on from head to toe, and your piles are so painful you think someone's just rammed a jackhammer up your backside. But hey, don't worry. One of us old timers will be there to hold the baby while the boys throw a lekker boerrie on the braai and you can sneak off on your own for a nice hot bath and an afternoon nap.
