Friday, November 15, 2013

So Lonely Baby

Sometimes, you procrastinate a thing long enough that it becomes insurmountable, a terrible task to undertake, a terrible burden to bear, when really it’s the stupidest thing ever, like sending off an email or making a phone call, or I dunno, keeping up on your stupid blog. That thing where you vent, where your thoughts have an outlet, where you actually have made online connections that matter to you.

On my way home from work, I make two phone calls: One to Vor, to let him know I have retrieved the package (aka Lis) and one to my parents, just to chat. Sometimes I will call my sister or my SIL.  A few days ago, no one answered, I realized that other than those people, I have no one to call. I don’t have a closest friend anymore. I do have a best friend, but she lives thousands of miles away, and we don’t talk every single minute. I have my co-workers, who I am very friendly with and close to, but I am still stinging from my one co-worker leaving to go hike the Appalachian Trail. We were really close, and our spouses were close, and I just miss her. I really like the other women here, but I miss her. My closest friend from law school is here, but we’ve kind of drifted—she’s in big law working 80 hour weeks, getting paid insane money, and I’m in public interest law, getting paid insanely little money. She has no kids, and while she and her husband would like to have a kid soon, he will be a stay at home dad. I have a kid who runs everywhere and touches stuff and their house is not kid friendly. Plus, they have two cats and I hate hate hate cats and Vor is really allergic to them. I don’t think they like our dog, who is admittedly really annoying sometimes.

What I’m saying is that I’m lonely, and sometimes, blogging makes me feel even more lonely.

It’s not like I can just go join a parent’s group. They meet during the workweek. My friends who work and have kids have the same limited time problems that we do, and honestly we all do like to spend our free times soaking up our spouses and kids. My stay at home friends have already formed tight little circles, and there’s this…vibe? from them that they think I’m judging their choice to stay home (I’m not) and that they are judging my choice/need to work (unlikely, but they do make comments sometimes, that I think they only mean to apply to themselves, but they come out wrong if applied to me).

Poor me, etc., etc., moving on.

October got really crazy—we had my SIL and her three kids come into town for a long weekend, then I had four full days hearing the following week, and then—surprise!—my best friend pretty much just showed up on my doorstep and spent the weekend with us, and we had approximately a metric ton of information to catch up on with each other. Then, we had my company’s big fundraiser, which takes the rest of the week to wrap up, and we got family photos done the next weekend, then I had speaking engagements the whole next week, and we pretty much just dropped onto the couch this past weekend, exhausted and grateful to have our house to ourselves.

Then Vor’s sister had to be all awesome and have her volleyball that she coaches win everything in their division, so they are going to the NCAA tournament, and that means Vor is deserting me this weekend, flying out to see his sister (hopefully) coach her team to a round of victories. Which leads me back to the no close friends problem, because I will be all alone, and so what do I do? Invite my MIL over to help me decorate the house in Christmas stuff. Not have a play date, not have coffee, not anything else. Don’t get me wrong, it needs to be done and I love my MIL, but still.

Fortunately, I have gained back a slice of time, thanks to the MILPs. I was really struggling at dinner time, due to a whirling dervish style toddler who is constantly on the verge of imminent self destruction and poor meal planning. I’m a good cook, but I learned to cook when I was single and had time to make complicated recipes, so my bank of “Oh yes, I know that by heart and can whip it up” recipes takes far too much time. So, I begged for ideas, and they came through, and there are now 2 frozen casserole in my freezer and three frozen quiches, along with precut ingredients that I can toss into stir fry or soup, whatever suits my fancy. That REALLY came in handy this week, when I found myself home at 2:30 in the afternoon with a migraine, unable to stand up. When Vor came home, I mumbled something about putting a frozen dish into the oven, and voila! Dinner.

I spend that extra time marveling at my daughter. She’s developed a sense of humor, and she is actually pretty funny. When she smiles, she crinkles her eyes and her nose up. Her hair is red in the sunlight but looks blonde inside. I have no explanation. She is unbelievably tall, towering over the other kids in her classroom, even the ones that were born several months before her. She is also ridiculously coordinated, and can out maneuver kids even a year older than herself. Other than that, she is pretty a “normal” kids with the average amount of words, etc. This week, she suddenly added “thank you,” “shoe,” “book,” “oval,” “circle,” and “help” to her vocab, so that was nice. Oh, and she says “Simba” quite clearly, and obviously, loves lions. All lions are Simba. Really, we don’t let her watch much TV, she just really latched onto the songs from Lion King. She loves to play dress up with my jewelry, and she has a tool kit that she carries around to help Vor. She helps him reassemble tables, put together bookshelves, and we have a broken door knob that we let her work on. It’s pretty awesome. She has an incredible obsession with drawing—every day with the crayons, EVERY DAY. Thank God they are washable, because last week, my entire hardwood floor was covered with crayon, and I’m not sure how she accomplished it without me really noticing. She’s a bit sneaky, in a cute way.

She’s so awesome that two thoughts constantly struggle with each other in my mind: “She’s so awesome that no second child could compete with her,” and “She’s so awesome that I bet a second one would be just as fun.” Factor in my current contemplations about loneliness, and there are days where I think having a sibling for her might be good for her. It’s just that it wouldn’t be good for me, at all. So, that continues to be tabled, at least until the idea of being pregnant doesn’t make me immediately cry with terror.

Time to go dig out the Christmas decorations.

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