It was a cold Sunday afternoon in January. Yes, a Sunday afternoon. I didn’t need a wild Friday night or a Saturday spent gallivanting around town. No, a Sunday would work just fine, thank you very much. The event? A get-together with my fellow KCMB team members. Women who get me. Who get moms and our desire (need?) to enjoy a rare meal with other grownups and not cut up someone else’s food. It was just what I needed to rise up from the fog that is raising two under two.
It all started with a simple shower, makeup and wearing real pants. Granted, they were maternity jeans because, hello, five weeks postpartum. But they were jeans. Not leggings or sweats. REAL PANTS! I nursed my newborn (again), kissed my sweet, sweet family goodbye and hopped into my minivan.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s impossible to get any type of groove back in a minivan, right? Wrong. I love my minivan, and I don’t care who knows it. It’s not tricked out or anything like that (can vans even BE tricked out??) but it has a pretty decent sound system in the form of a CD player. I could have been driving around in a bus, I didn’t care. No kids and real pants, remember!?
Ah yes, the solitude of my minivan. I enjoyed the silence for approximately 3 minutes before cranking up the jams, mild profanity and all. I had a good 30-minute drive ahead of me and I sang along – loudly – the whole entire way. A little chair dancing might have been involved, which most definitely garnered weird looks from others passing me by on the highway.
A hot meal was had. Conversation was enjoyed with others who possessed a full vocabulary. I ordered a beer and it was delicious. I ate chocolate and didn’t have to share. I’m convinced the chocolate had healing powers, by the way. I ate that chocolate and slowly felt put back together. Like I could be a functioning person in society after having another baby.
I obviously love my kids but it was just as important to catch a glimpse of myself that day, too. I wouldn’t necessarily focus on the picture of myself stuffing my face with chocolate but the fact that I really could rock this two-kids-thing and still enjoy the things I liked to do in my pre-kid life.
I went home to my husband who had fed our toddler dinner and had the girls ready to settle down for the night. The baby needed to nurse (again), and I immediately switched back to mom mode. The first weeks with a new baby at home are exhausting and challenging but for a whole two hours on a Sunday afternoon, I got to recharge my batteries as a mom, returning ready to face another day.
I was back, baby.
