The problem with having kids is that you cannot really anticipate or imagine how physically and mentally exhausted you will become.
It’s completely unfathomable.
When you are pregnant you will look forward to having the baby because you think you won’t be so tired anymore.
The joke is on you because – after you have the baby you will operate on fumes for months and possibly years on end because you will not have a full night’s sleep. Only then will you know truly what “tired” is.
You will also foolishly believe that when you have a baby you will just get a babysitter and continue to go out to dinner or meet friends for drinks regularly. You don’t realize before you have kids that it is so much more than just getting another human to watch your baby.
There’s guilt, there’s worry, and there’s exhaustion to consider.
There’s finding something to wear that isn’t covered with spit up, there’s leaking boobs, there’s the fact that you haven’t lost the baby weight and nothing fits, and of course there’s the fact that you may or may not like your husband on any given day.
On the few occasions that you venture out for a date on an anniversary or birthday, you will think as you get ready that you would love nothing more than to just get into your sweats and go to bed.
But you will force yourself to go out and then you have a few drinks. That night your baby will cry and/or wake up at 5 am and you will decide going out to dinner is just not worth it.
Before you know it it’s 6 months before you have a proper night out again.
You resign yourself to having no social life and vow that when your kids are older you are going to go out all the time. That things will change and in a few years you will be back dancing on the bar where you belong.
Unfortunately, by the time that day rolls around, the lady looking back at you in the mirror is a little bit old and weathered for bar dancing, but you venture out anyways.
After a long day of work, only having time to eat a quick salad all day you look forward to some good food and drinks.
You leave your kids with your parents. The kids are fairly independent now. You just tell them to go to bed when their movie is over and say goodnight.
You meet another couple at a raw bar.
You will secure four seats at the bar which is possibly the best thing that can happen to someone in their mid-30’s since the idea of actually standing up at a bar seems downright horrific.
Your friends will ask if you enjoy raw bars. Your husband will answer “No, I am allergic to shellfish.”
Your friends will exclaim “Then why are we here?”
You will sip your martini and say “Oh it’s fine, he’s just being dramatic.”
You go on to order mussels and shrimp cocktail and a fish pate of some sort, and continue on to your second drink.
Your husband will watch baseball and talk with his friend and eat raw clams and oysters. He will suddenly announce that he’s going outside to get some air because he doesn’t feel well.
Your friends will be alarmed and think he’s having an allergic reaction and urge you to go see what’s wrong.
When you get outside, your husband will say you have to go home because he is going to throw up because he thinks he had a “bad clam.”
You head back in to settle the bill and notice that your third drink has arrived and you take a nice swig of it.
As you drive home, you say “Actually I don’t really feel well either.”
You will tell your husband to pull into a side street and when he does he will almost crash right into a police car that randomly is there.
You will feel bile churning and yet you know that you can’t both throw up there with the police man watching.
“Just back up!” you screech to your husband as the cop approaches flashing his light in your eyes.
“My wife is sick,” your husband will call out the window to the cop as he maneuvers the best k-turn of his life, and peels out back on to the main road back home.
You will almost make it home and when you are just 500 feet from your house an old woman will pull out of her driveway blocking the road.
She will do this at the slowest possible speed that a vehicle can move. She will move two inches back and two inches forward for what seems like an hour while vomit creeps up your throat.
You will yell at your husband to crash into the old woman with your car but he will ignore you.
You will frantically try to open your door but child safety locks prevent it and you will put your hands up to catch your vomit but luckily your husband will open the door just in time for you to throw up in front of your neighbor’s house.
By then the old person has left and you head home.
Your parents demand to know what’s happening as you storm in and run for the toilet.
You vomit again and then sink into your bed praying to feel better, while your husband paces the floor waiting to rid himself of his “bad clam.”
When you last look at the clock its 10 PM.
In the morning you and your husband look at each other and resolve to do better next time. Maybe eat a snack before going out so that your stomachs aren’t empty. Maybe get a wine spritzer instead of a martini…..maybe your stomachs are too old and weathered for raw clams….maybe your food allergy is catching up to you.
Or maybe you are so old you should just go to “Early Bird Specials” and Bingo….
Maybe you will give it one more try next weekend.
EVEN THOUGH MR. GAGA AND I ARE VERY OLD AND SPEND OUR WEEKEND NIGHTS VOMITING AT LEAST WE ARE FUNNY…PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO CONFIRM THAT!! XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA