Yesterday morning when I woke up I was immediately depressed. I hate Saturdays. Why? Because I have such high expectations about getting out, doing something fun, and living it up. Then I look around at my family and they’re all in front of a screen of some sort, wasting away their lives, and all my enthusiasm gets deflated. I feel a hopelessness wash over me, and I just get depressed.
So I left the house to get my morning coffee at Starbucks in a grumpy state, and returned feeling a little more hopeful as the coffee kicked in. I decided that, it being a nice day, I was going to the beach. Not only was I going to go to the beach, but I was going to rent a beach cruiser and ride along the boardwalk. This was an idea I’d come up with last weekend, but the weather hadn’t cooperated.
When I got home, I announced that I was going to go to the beach and anybody who would like to join me was welcome. Part of me really wanted my whole family to come. I thought they’d have fun, and I stress out about them not getting out in the sunshine enough. But another part of me knew it would be easier if no one came, because then I wouldn’t have to put up with any of their talking, whining, or general needs.
Hot Guy was all in, although he was exhausted and a little grumpy, so I was angry about that. I felt like he was going to ruin my day by trying to cut corners to make things easier. I was also worried I’d feel guilty the whole time as I would be dragging him around, him always doing what I want him to, even if he doesn’t want to.
With Hot Guy on board, that meant the baby would be coming, which I was happy about. I might have taken him either way, as he would love what I was doing, and I’d feel good about getting him out.
With the three of us going, my 8 year old son (I have four kids) decided to go. Now here’s the tough one. 8-year-old is the one that needs to get out the most, but is also the most invasive child I have. He listens to everything Hot Guy and I talk about, comments on it, and interrupts conversation. He’s also highly dramatic, so can be quite exhausting. It’s so much easier to let him stay home and play video games all day, which he loves, but I hate. So, because I care about 8-year-old, I feigned being happy he was coming, and made him feel loved and accepted.
Both the girls (middle schoolers) decided to stay home and be bums. I didn’t want them to do that, but I just had to let it go, and decided that they are their own people, and they are going to make their own choices. They are not me. They are not me.
Well, we went to the beach and I rented a beach cruiser, while Hot Guy rented a double seater thing with a back seat so he and 8-year-old could peddle and the baby could ride in the back. It was really fun! I love being by the beach, and being in the sunshine with the warm breeze in my hair while I rode my bike was just what I hoped for. Perfect.
Hot Guy actually had a great attitude, as well as 8-year-old. And the baby was adorable in his little bike helmet. It was fun hearing all the people we passed gush out how cute he was to each other. It was also nice to get checked out while riding my bike. I am just starting to look good again after the baby, and I’ve missed being admired. Riding the bike by myself took away the “mom image” and helped too.
After we turned in our rentals, we let the boys play in the water. Hoy Guy took off his shirt and I have to admit, it got me excited. He isn’t called Hot Guy for kicks. Then I got to see all the other girls on the beach oodle over him, which makes me proud that I’m the one who gets to have sex with him.
When we went home, we were tired and napped, then I got out the karaoke machine and sang. Hot Guy sang too, which is always hilarious, and one of the girls did, which made me happy because they were participating. Then, after dinner, we went out with our Crossfit group. I was iffy about going but Hot Guy pushed me to go. Sooo glad he did. I had two glasses of wine, and was feeling wonderful! I haven’t had anything to drink in two years because of the baby, so two glasses pretty much did me in. I LOVE to drink. I feel guilty about that fact sometimes, because Hot Guy doesn’t drink, and he thinks girls that drink all the time are trashy. I can see his point. But I think I’d drink all the time if I didn’t have kids. I’d party a lot too. I love to dance, sing, and pretty much just be crazy, but I don’t get a lot of opportunities to do that. Hot Guy is good about it though. He loves to take me out and watch me go crazy, when I do get the chance, and then I don’t have to worry about anything, because I know if all else fails, he’ll throw me over his shoulder and carry me home if he has to.
Last night he said I was a hilarious drinker, and that all the Crossfit people are going to want me at all their events now. I made him laugh a lot. And not the kind where he was laughing at me, but laughing with me. I always feel so good about myself when he laughs at one of my jokes. He’s usually the funny one, and I get a bit overshadowed by that, so when I make him laugh it means a lot. I wonder, does the alcohol give me the moxy to say all the things I normally want to say, but filter because I don’t view myself as a funny person? Hmm, something to think about.
Anyhow, my Saturday ended up being pretty good. Now that it’s Sunday, I have to go back to the drudge of responsibility. School projects, laundry, and cleaning to get ready for the week. But what I really want to do is have fun all day again.
Until next time…