... Sydney has drifted off in her bouncy seat (after loads of spit up, laughter and involved playing ...) Bailey is similarily cashed out; his movement restricted to the towels by the back door (as a result of his exceedingly spring-muddy paws!), and in this quiet interlude, I am racing to heat up 3-day old cashew chicken, pour a glass of my dad's Rolling Meadows Niagara wine and switch from Seinfeld re-runs to WE's scheduled movie, Must Love Dogs ... (or maybe it's playing on Oxygen? Whatever.) I read the book years ago, but never saw the movie, so this is mighty exciting Saturday-night-romantic-comedy-stuff!
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, it occurs to me that I am far too excited about a bowl of leftovers (the caloric content of which doubtless renders obsolete this afternoon's 3-mile tread mill run)and a lonely evening at home. Here's what's up: Leon is at Trivia Night, an annual occassion that I normally attend with great enthusiasm. However, this year is a "break" for me. Sort of. At any rate, he's there. I'm home. And I'm looking forward to the rest of the evening ...
I suppose that I could get all sad and morose that nobody invited me to join a table (I am, after all, one of those overly sensitive-analytical people ... "what does this mean?" I ask. Probably nothing, but my over-sensitive self wants to make it mean something, when (hopefully)in reality people are probably thinking, "she has a baby". Actually, in reality, people probably aren't thinking at all! I am hardly that important! ... Besides, and may I be sour-grapes for just a moment, I am not a massive fan of Trivia Nights. I always feel like I should know the answers to the bizarre questions, and rarely do. I hate the sports round. In all honesty, I really go for the food and the wine!)
The truth is, this totally comfortable, homebody evening comes as a complete reward after what can only be described as a really, really heinous and looooong week. Work stress, new job stress, new mom stress ... and too little sleep. (Ironically, my lack of sleep these days has nothing whatsoever to do with Sydney and everything to do with my own inability to "let it go ...", the proverbial "it" being a whole wealth of stupid stresses that are really not as big a deal as my late night worrying makes them!)All of this has left me craving the quiet of home and the comfort of my favorite velour track suit.
Comfort foods. Comfort clothes. And isn't it funny ~ the "newest" part of our life (that being Miss Sydney) feels like the absolute most comfort of all in the chaos that is "grown-up" life.