I have been introduced to more internet wonderfulness this week than I have in many months past, which have provided moments of laughter and brevity, but despite them I remain mostly prone on the couch with what feels like my only friend, NPR. Oh sigh. The emo of it all.
And while I did just read that one key to blog success is to consider what your readers want to read, I am writing now mostly just to write, which means y'all (whoever you are) might have to read more about what the truth of my life is this week than, say, hilariously cute stories about four-year-olds with ADHD and access to an entire cake.
Actually, I'm thinking now about the last three days, which began with my return from a week long trip to the family unit in Chicago for a baby shower being tossed for Hadj and I (and baby to be). For the week I was there my mom was never too far away. I promised her, prior to going over there, that I would make no plans, but would hand myself over to her to do as she pleased for all seven days. This move was made under some kind of "good daughter" auspice, because, not unlike many people, I relate to my friends much more easily than to my relatives. I was avoiding the guilt trip that would surely come if I did what I wanted to do and assuring myself that it would be fine, nice, even. And, like I said, I'm now home. Home, for me now, does not have friends stopping by just for an evening of hanging out. Home does not have weekly social events or brunches or dinners together. Home, basically, consists of two people, four pets, lots of work to be done, and really beautiful, though quiet, scenery.
After my routine walk with the lady-dogs in the morning on Thursday (I arrived home early Wednesday evening) I felt the silence enveloping me. It felt nice, smelled wonderful, and was easy to label as peaceful and lovely. But, by Friday morning, the tables were turning. It wasn't until I saw our friend Jeff leaving with his sister and father for a party somewhere, with their drums in the back of his car that I realized Oh damn. I neeeed friends.
I've been out here nearly a year now. For the first several months it occurred to me to find friends, but I was trying to do so in my old, metropolitan way (vis a vie the internet) and it wasn't working at all. Then I gave up and got a job to help me in my friend quest. Then I got pregnant, quit my job, and entered some months or weeks of depression and confusion. Then I began interviewing doulas and seeing a therapist. These two things helped me meet people in my area and were greatly reassuring and enlivening.
As Jeff and his family, who know everyone in the area, left for what seemed to be a great night of hippie bonding somewhere the fact that I am a social creature smacked me on the forehead again. It's a welcome re-realization. I was doing it before and I can get back on it now. There are La Leche League meetings to seek out, Mommy playgroups to find, a doula I can call and meet for tea, so on. But today, on this gray Saturday morning, I'm going to do what I've been doing for a bit longer. Ira Glass and the couch await me, and some unconditionally loving pets.
One last note: I dreamt last night of my son, he was beautiful.