It’s Not You, It’s Me

Pittsburgh has a lot of fun stuff going on at any given time.

You can go to a ball game, a museum, an amusement park. You can usually find a fun Tweetup — or even create your own.

And I am sitting out a lot of this good stuff. There was a tailgate party last Saturday that up until last Wednesday I had planned to attend. Because tailgate parties are fun! And I like all the people who were going, and I don’t get to see them nearly enough as it is! And the kids would have had a great time.

And I didn’t go. I didn’t go to the funnel cake party or the Hebrew National picnic, a few weeks ago, either.

I’m not going to my work picnic at Kennywood. And I love me some Kennywood. I haven’t been in two years!

The thought of getting my pregnant self and my two children out of the house by a certain time, often with some kind of food to contribute to an event, and meet up with a bunch of people at a certain time — people whom I like very much at events that would be FUN FUN FUN — is simply beyond my ability right now.

Actually, that’s not true: I can do it. I am choosing not to. In an effort to minimize my stress, I have had to just say to myself: “Self, you must chill out.” And I am right.

While these people are fun and these events are fun, I would not be having fun. It’s not fun to be physically challenged as I am right now and have Kate in a public place. It is super-duper stressful. And although I know I have people who can and will take on Kate at these events, I would feel bad for allowing that. (My husband will be among the people telling me I should let that go.)

This is like the Lenten Twitter fast, only in reverse. That is, I am interacting with all these people on Twitter, but not IRL* (as we say on the Interwebz).

But at least I get to go to this tonight.

And while I am very sad to be missing what is sure to be the party of the year, and an event by a blogger whom I much admire and a tweep with whom I much enjoy “talking”, I have a long overdue dinner planned with my very best friends from childhood, N and M. If it were here in Pittsburgh, we would totally be hitting #helloSAL, but the three of us are meeting in Erie instead.

If I am lucky, I will even get to schedule a coffee date with a high school friend, H.

On the bright side, I am driving up to Erie ALONE. I am going to have a nice, long dinner with M and N. In a restaurant that doesn’t even offer mac’n’cheese on the menu. We will probably stay for coffee and dessert. And I will sleep in (until 8:30? 9 a.m.?) on Sunday. And then I will drive home to my children and my no doubt frazzled husband, and host dinner for my in-laws. (Homemade pizza!) And life will go back to normal, or what normal is for now.

And maybe I will miss a few more fun things, but I will get to go to a few, too.

And then, November will come, and we’ll have a whole new normal to get used to.

Bring it.

*In Real Life.

8 thoughts on “It’s Not You, It’s Me

  1. I’m with you. I’m certainly not pregnant (obviously) but I have a lot going on, and trying to manage it all and then also go out to meet up with people often doesn’t work in my life right now. Too often, I just have conflicting events, but just dragging the kids and Rachel out to something is tough, with bedtimes to deal with, and money forever being tight, and a constantly busy schedule…

    I say, do what you need to do. I’m with you. (Virtually.) 🙂

    • It gets more complicated when Dan is working (which is a lot right now) and I’m facing getting out of the house alone with them. And, yeah, that money thing too. Sometimes you just need a Saturday at home!

  2. What Uncle Crappy said!!!

    I am SOOOO glad you are coming tonight. Can’t wait to see you. Let me know if there’s anything I am supposed to bring for you.

  3. I can certainly relate. Although I got *used* children at 4,5, and 10, going from 0 to 3 in 30 days can certainly feel like a really short pregnancy. The best day was Sunday, because church was not until 11, so if I started breakfast at 8:30, then baths, and bribed them with Subway if they managed not to turn church into a Indy 500 with their cars, by the time we finished lunch and naps Kurt was home from work. And although I knew how much work went into having kids, I still married him.

    Do whatever is best for you; being a mom is a marathon, not a sprint, and pregnancy doubly so. I do agree with Dan, though; some of my kids best memories were when they got the honor of being babysat by friends who either had no kids or had older ones and missed the sound of little ones. I wish my nieces would let me babysit MORE. If I were there, I would be begging to have them over.

    And I love Ikea: we went to Seattle for vacation, and it was one of my main places to visit. I miss lingonberries…

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