you talkin' to me?
Rudy Giuliani's personal life is not yet as weird as Angelina Jolie's, but it's getting there.
One year ago: I get my hair cut.
Two years ago: Some stuff you can't put in scripts.
Three years ago: What I learned year 1 at USC.
Today's news question:What long-speculated-about secret did the Vatican recently 'fess up about?
(Don't send me your answers. This is just a little way to expand your horizons. Honest.)
Mother's Day. I get to celebrate it this year. It's not just my making that phone call we're all supposed to make, I'm actually a phone call recipient (were small babies to make that call). Looking at it from this angle is totally different.
Darin and Sophia and I celebrated by making breakfast and going for a long walk. We almost didn't go for the walk--the three of us were pretty comfy curled up on the couch together. But we did go out, with Sophia slung over Darin's shoulder in the Caveman Daddy carrying pose, yellow floppy hat on her head. We walked to the nearest park.
How common are parks around here? Well, I won't say they're infrequent, but we had to walk past a freeway and a major shopping mall to get there.
During the walk Darin asked me what I've been thinking about. So I told him.
"I've been lonely," I said.
I've spent most of the past twelve weeks--yup, twelve weeks--with Sophia. Time goes by pretty quickly: I'm in a haze most days.
Part of the loneliness is par for the course when you have a new baby. I know I'm not alone in this--women on my moms mailing list have been wondering about how to find Mommy groups. (Answer: church--not an option for me, thanks--and the Y, which is both scarce and not close to where we are.) At this stage, when the baby is so young, I don't want to go anywhere without her, and it's hard to do anything that isn't baby-centric at this point. Most people and activities, it is safe to say, are not baby-centric, and it's up to me to find baby-centric people and places.
Part of the loneliness is my fault: I have the social skills of a hermit. Tamar asked me to get together for lunch and I said no, because when she asked me I was way stressed out by too many visits, too much socializing. All of those Keirsey tests that said I was an extrovert or an ambivert? Ha ha ha ha ha. I must be the biggest introvert of all time.
Recently I started thinking, Hey, I should tell Tamar I'm up for lunch...I wonder how long ago she asked me? Too many visits? When was that? She must have asked me to lunch...at least eight weeks ago.
Huh. Eight weeks.
Surprisingly, Tamar still replies to my e-mails.
It's easy for me to let things go day by day, which turns into week by week. Keeping up with people is always hard work, and let's face it, I know where I stand on the whole hard work issue. With a baby, it can seem overwhelming. I don't even want to make a To Do list, because I'm not checking off the big stuff I know needs to be done. It's just easier to stay here, in my little cocoon, cuddling my baby. Going somewhere--even just to have lunch with someone--seems to involve machinations on the order of the D-Day Invasion.
Which is why I have not been picking up the phone. And why I really, really need to, before I forget how to converse with anyone over the age of potty training.
Anyhow, Darin and I talked about my loneliness as we walked. He pointed out one major contributing factor: my choice of profession. I talked to a lot more people when I went into my office at Apple Computer every day. Or when I went to school every day. Having a bit of structure to your life does wonders for forcing you to meet people. No exertion required; they're all right there. Darin works at home all day too, but he interacts with people via computer and phone the whole time, and if we lived up north he'd be going into the office every day. Whereas I'd still be home with the baby and not that much further along forming new friendships.
We got to the park and walked around, watching the softball games and the kids playing on the playgrounds (tiny tot playground over here, bigger kid playground over there), noting the tennis courts, and wondering a bit about the empty swimming pool. Isn't it the time of year to fill it up? Hmmm. Must make a return trip, find out the pool situation.
On our way out of the park we walked past another couple with a baby. The infant, eight weeks old, sat in his carseat on their picnic blanket. We chatted for a while about babies and the park and how nice a day it was.
As we walked away, I said, "I didn't even think to ask her if she knows of any Mommy and Me groups in the area." Darin thought of a couple of things he might have said but didn't. (We are both forever re-editing conversations when they're over. I know I am hoping that this mental practice will lead to my remembering to say something in the moment, but it hasn't yet.) The first new parents we've run across and I don't say anything.
And I thought, I have to do something, for my own insanity.
So my goal for this week--which will probably turn into the next two weeks, since time gets pretty hazy these days--is to seek out Mommy groups. Go to the yoga class, check that out. Call the Y, call the Jewish Community Center, call the Momsclub groups I got phone numbers for. I may hate all of these things, but I have to do something.
Other major tasks that will most likely take months to accomplish but I have to do anyhow:
- Get some help around here, whether it's a babysitter to watch Sophia while I do a thing or two during the day or a housekeeper to clean up the mess that congregates in between our weekly housecleanings.
- Maybe investigate getting a personal chef. Darin and I spend a lot of time either a)going out to dinner or b)eating frozen dinners. I don't cook and Darin doesn't have the energy to cook after a full day of work. It would probably be cost-effective for us to hire someone.
- I have to do something about my writing. My writing group has fallen apart and I'm not really expecting it to get back together. Fair enough, move on: do something else. I'm going to investigate a couple of leads I have.
I've decided Mother's Day is not only about appreciating your mother but, if you're that mother, appreciating yourself. Because I want to be a good mommy for my little girl, and not at all as stir-crazy as I'm afraid I'm becoming.
Anyhow, for those of you who haven't seen the love of my life recently:
I am really glad to be celebrating Mother's Day, since it means I've met her.
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Copyright 2000 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@nobody-knows-anything.com