Parenthood and the Death of Spontaneity

Remember those days when last minute, we’d all decide to meet downtown for drinks, spend hours re-hashing the ups and downs of the past week and brainstorm over trips we’d take and plans we’d make with all that extra time we have floating around?

No, neither do it.
Party like a parent

And I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I birthed a human and now I can’t commit to anything if it’s not on my calendar 3 months in advance. Don’t misunderstand me. I LOVE going out. My post-baby booty loves to shake it and I am dying to mingle with fun-loving adults. Anyone in fact, who doesn’t pull my hair, slap my face or expect me to eat food they’ve graciously pre-chewed.

What’s stopping me, you ask? Let’s start with the babysitter. Mainly, the fact that I don’t have one, and my husband’s out of town. I mean, of course there are the grandparents, but I’ve already reserved them at strategically dispersed intervals throughout the next year, so I don’t really want to push it. There’s the neighbour’s daughter who is amazing with my daughter but has school commitments and you know, a life, and unfortunately she’s not free on Saturdays. There is that other babysitter who charges like $20/hour… I guess maybe I could get her. If we leave at 5pm to get there for 6:30pm, that’s dinner from 6:45-8:30pm – and then dancing you say? Yes, of course dancing. That goes until, what…11pm? Ahem, oh yes of course I meant 1am, obviously. So at $20/hour (maybe I can negotiate down to $15 or so) that will cost me around $120. Plus gas. No big deal (gulp). Maybe I just won’t drink? Genius! A sober night off. I’ll rememeber more this way. Phew! Glad that’s taken care of.

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