This morning Ghostwriterdaddy ran something by me which involved him leaving the place of domestic bliss to meet with friends, listen to music and socialise. It got me thinking.
What the hell happened to my social life?
I used to have one. I used to go to the corner shop on a whim- on a WHIM!- and it only took a couple of minutes because I didn’t need to dress anyone, toilet anyone or take a whole bag full of stuff with me. I used to go to the pub on a Friday evening after work and I used to lie in on a Saturday morning. I used to have one of these so-called social lives. Honestly. At least I think I did. It’s been so long…
When you have kids your social life changes. These days it’s baby groups, kid’s parties and outings to the park. The last time I went out without any children was to the polling station back in May. That’s sad, right?
Now, dear husband, this is not a dig at you. It’s just that when I mentioned to you this morning that you actually go out 100% more than me, it wasn’t an exaggeration. You hardly go out and yet I NEVER go out.
Is this because I am breastfeeding and the baby won’t last more than a couple of hours without me? Partly. Is it because I’m not really all that bothered about going out? Again, partly. But the breastfeeding won’t last forever and the fact that I’m not that bothered is starting to evolve into actually being bothered.
I WANT to go out! I want to dress up and wear makeup and have more than half a glass of wine. I want to listen to music. I want to leave the house and go somewhere with adults, without children.Is that so bad? And is it just me, or does the recovery of the social life take a lot longer for women? You don’t see bunches of new mums down the pub wetting the baby’s head, do you? Nor do you see mums nipping out for a quick one because someone is leaving work. Mums seem to accept that their kids now have better social lives than them and that’s that for a while.
This isn’t meant to be a mums vs. dads post. Really. Poor Ghostwriterdaddy doesn’t go out often, he’s never wetted a baby’s head and he hardly ever goes to the pub. He’s as knackered as me. But still…