a little bit of the schmarm

I was all set to have a dud night, a good old fashioned pity party with no one else invited. Ben took off to go to some track thing, promising not to be home until "late." Normally, this suits me just fine. I like some alone time now and again, and it's not like I was planning on going anywhere on a Friday night. I rarely do. In that respect, motherhood hasn't changed me a bit.

But tonight, for whatever reason, I was feeling like I needed people or a person or something involving something resembling a social calendar. As Ben was getting ready to take off, the litany of pity and self-blame was already running through my head.

You're no good at socializing. It's really hard for you to make friends. It's your fault that this is the life you have. You could have friends if you wanted to. You always say the wrong thing. You're basically socially inept.

But what does a mom do? Suck it up! Read countless books, giggle, chase & hide, play play play, fix feed eat clean-up dinner, read even more books (an innumerable amount), get the bath, get the lotion, get the jammies, read some more, pray, kiss, hug, tuck tuck!, whisper goodnight of course.

In actuality, this would all have happened regardless of anyone's mood. But tonight, oh tonight. I swear Abby had the panache of a smart and sassy lady. She was everything I needed. She was independent when I needed her to be! She used her words when she needed to! She had smiles for everything! She was content! She ate...everything...easily!! She was hilarious! She thought I was hilarious! She helped pick up her toys! She didn't cry once!!!

It's not that she's a little hellion or anything, but there's usually some point on any given night when there's a tear or protest about something. She's a toddler. She protests about toddler things. It's how it goes. But not tonight!!

Essentially, when Ben walked out the door, I had a little chat with my own inner hellion and tried to smack it around a little. I was not going to wallow and cry for my poor, sad self. And then Abby picked me up off of the floor and cuddled away my woes. Thank you, my sweetness.

P.S. The picture book section at our library is as big as the adult fiction section. Picture books are lots smaller than novels. So there's a t-o-n of picture books to sift through. This is great, but...impossible to sort through while also trying to watch a toddler. And, picture books encompass a huge range of abilities, I've quickly figured out. This is definitely a 2-adult field trip.