Tonight, I am bravely leaving the home without my children or my husband or my mother or any of the pets.
I am going to dinner with this lady friend of mine. She's a friend I made as a grown up; but sometimes I think we've known each our entire lives. We are the only two of our little crew that can make it out tonight; but we must perserve, otherwise we will never escape!
I cannot wait!
I just have at least 4,000 more things to micromanage and conduct before I leave. I did nearly successfully orchestrate the placement of three children at a variety of sporting and dance practices. I also made a substandard dinner made of a crust of bread with some tomato sauce I found in the door of the refrigerator and white cheese (unknown variety). I told everyone it was homemade pizza, but really I don't think anyone in Italy or New Jersey would agree.
Anyway, I just have to find an appropriate "leaving the home for a meal not at Jersey Mike's" outfit, put lipstick on, remove it, apply a new color and repeat, find my good mascara and shoes! I need to definitely wear shoes that are not Uggs or sneakers.
Going "out" is so much work. I used to believe when my kids got older it would get easier; but it's only got harder. They need more serious things now--help with real homework, rides everywhere, and big problems solved. And I love all of that, but there is never really a night off, at all, because their responsibilities for better or worse are also my responsibilities. They cannot yet order their own Uber, so it is Mike and I at the ready.
And then I always feel a bit guilty leaving--there is always one more thing to do or one more item to find or some piece of something that isn't complete. What if they don't have enough clean underwear for tomorrow? What if they forget to charge their ipads? What if someone decides to light a candle near a curtain that is pillowing in the breeze? What if they let the dog out and he runs away and finally eats that baby in the stroller he barks at everyday? Why would the baby be out at night in the stroller? What if the baby in the stroller's parents are missing and there is a serial killer on the loose? What if my son runs out on the lawn screaming because their grandmother was too engrossed in her crime show on CBS-3 (the only channel she watches!) to notice them? And then the serial killer kidnaps him?
So much can happen in a few hours!
But, I am going to stop asking questions and start thinking of asking what the specials are tonight at dinner. And I am going to put on my big girl clothes!
I am feeling like I can do this!
Okay, well, I was feeling like I could do this! But then my husband, who is off to drop one kid at lacrosse and then to go out himself and draft some youth for the flag football team, just asked,"So I will see you? Again? This evening?"
I answered yes, but really I should have said no. . . .