On the Soccer Mom Fast Track
I'm discovering the toughest thing about being maried is the major shift it has caused to my life's priorities.
Once upon a time I was a city girl, a northwest, turn-of-the-millenium Mary Tyler Moore. I had an OK job, a swank apartment, a little red sportscar that would get me from here to there. I would spend weekends hanging out with friends, or doing my own thing, always living large. If I wanted to eat nothing but cheetos for a day I could. I could go out for drinks after work without having to call home first. And when the work party broke up it was OK to continue the party elsewhere with friends. And when that bar shut down we could continue elsewhere, until last call of the night. No desire to go home early, because the cat could really care less if I made it or not. The biggest concern was the amount of time it would take to retrieve the car the next day, since after 6 hours at the bars I was probably not in the best shape to drive.
It was sad when and idiot running a red-light resulted in the destruction of the sports car, especially since the time and money available to find a replacement resulted in the purchase of a Nissan Sentra. When I named him "Yoshi the Yuppiemobile" it was in mockery. And even in my four-door sedan I could live the wild and crazy single girl lifestyle that had suited me just fine.
But now that there's another person in my life, my priorities have changed. I live in a condo in the suburbs, opting to drive into the city for fun rather than sacrifice my life and my Sweetie's life commuting. I am more likely to eat at a Red Robin or Outback Steakhouse at a strip mall than some cute little bistro in the funky neighborhood in-town. I drive a Subaru Forester now.
Add a kid and I'm your standard issue 2005 soccer mom.
And the scary thing is - I'm loving every minute of it! Because I've got my Sweetie by my side. I still find myself thinking single-girl thoughts sometimes. The fall air kicks it into overdrive. There was something about being a single girl in Portland in the fall that was especially magical. The chill in the air would necessitate coats and hats and gloves, but it would still occassionally be clear enough that you could spend an evening wandering down Hawthorne or Trendy-Third or some other local area to grab drinks, dinner, dessert, coffee, just poke your nose into store windows, that was exquisite.
But then I find myself snapped back to reality, and discover I don't miss that anymore. I'm perfectly happy to start making vacation plans based on the future possibility of children (current vacations plans are things we would like to do that are not infant-friendly, and those that do accomodate a little one well will wait a few years so that we can continue to vacate once there is a little one in tow). We're starting to plan where we will live next, from the city to the school district to the numbers of bedrooms and bathrooms available, based on the emergency of a child or children into our lives, and our desire to have one parent stay at home until the kids are in school.
NEVER in my single-girl days did such ideas cross my mind. Sure, I wanted a man in my life, and desired to get married someday on some level, but I never actively worked that into the "future" I had laid out in front of me. I'd sooner have lost a limb than considered living in suburbia.
But here I am, and I'm loving it. I've been playing housewife for the past couple of weeks (without even a job search to occupy my days), and if it were economically feasible I'd totally stay at home and cater to my family all day long.
It's as if that small band of gold around my finger has sparked a genetic change in me. I'm still an independent woman, and it's not like I'm tied into historically subservient gender roles - not only am I cooking and cleaning, but doing the home maintenance as well, but I truly do enjoy this. =
If Martha hadn'at already claimed the throne, I'd wish I could turn this into a paying gig. Or maybe I can - Post-modern Martha anyone?
Once upon a time I was a city girl, a northwest, turn-of-the-millenium Mary Tyler Moore. I had an OK job, a swank apartment, a little red sportscar that would get me from here to there. I would spend weekends hanging out with friends, or doing my own thing, always living large. If I wanted to eat nothing but cheetos for a day I could. I could go out for drinks after work without having to call home first. And when the work party broke up it was OK to continue the party elsewhere with friends. And when that bar shut down we could continue elsewhere, until last call of the night. No desire to go home early, because the cat could really care less if I made it or not. The biggest concern was the amount of time it would take to retrieve the car the next day, since after 6 hours at the bars I was probably not in the best shape to drive.
It was sad when and idiot running a red-light resulted in the destruction of the sports car, especially since the time and money available to find a replacement resulted in the purchase of a Nissan Sentra. When I named him "Yoshi the Yuppiemobile" it was in mockery. And even in my four-door sedan I could live the wild and crazy single girl lifestyle that had suited me just fine.
But now that there's another person in my life, my priorities have changed. I live in a condo in the suburbs, opting to drive into the city for fun rather than sacrifice my life and my Sweetie's life commuting. I am more likely to eat at a Red Robin or Outback Steakhouse at a strip mall than some cute little bistro in the funky neighborhood in-town. I drive a Subaru Forester now.
Add a kid and I'm your standard issue 2005 soccer mom.
And the scary thing is - I'm loving every minute of it! Because I've got my Sweetie by my side. I still find myself thinking single-girl thoughts sometimes. The fall air kicks it into overdrive. There was something about being a single girl in Portland in the fall that was especially magical. The chill in the air would necessitate coats and hats and gloves, but it would still occassionally be clear enough that you could spend an evening wandering down Hawthorne or Trendy-Third or some other local area to grab drinks, dinner, dessert, coffee, just poke your nose into store windows, that was exquisite.
But then I find myself snapped back to reality, and discover I don't miss that anymore. I'm perfectly happy to start making vacation plans based on the future possibility of children (current vacations plans are things we would like to do that are not infant-friendly, and those that do accomodate a little one well will wait a few years so that we can continue to vacate once there is a little one in tow). We're starting to plan where we will live next, from the city to the school district to the numbers of bedrooms and bathrooms available, based on the emergency of a child or children into our lives, and our desire to have one parent stay at home until the kids are in school.
NEVER in my single-girl days did such ideas cross my mind. Sure, I wanted a man in my life, and desired to get married someday on some level, but I never actively worked that into the "future" I had laid out in front of me. I'd sooner have lost a limb than considered living in suburbia.
But here I am, and I'm loving it. I've been playing housewife for the past couple of weeks (without even a job search to occupy my days), and if it were economically feasible I'd totally stay at home and cater to my family all day long.
It's as if that small band of gold around my finger has sparked a genetic change in me. I'm still an independent woman, and it's not like I'm tied into historically subservient gender roles - not only am I cooking and cleaning, but doing the home maintenance as well, but I truly do enjoy this. =
If Martha hadn'at already claimed the throne, I'd wish I could turn this into a paying gig. Or maybe I can - Post-modern Martha anyone?
posted by Swankette at 1:35 PM
2 Comments:
I'll pay you. How much is it worth?
(to you, of course. To me, it's beyond priceless.)
Post a Comment
<< Home