Thursday, December 15, 2011

Planning Ahead (ugh)

My husband likes to plan ahead. I follow more of a "go where ever the wind blows me" philosophy. This philosophy isn't serving me particularly well during this season of life and motherhood.


He sends me gazillions of google calendar notices/invites a week so that I can be involved in the planning of our lives. I just reply "yes" to all of them without actually comprehending what I'm agreeing to. Yes, yes, I'll go to the benefit/ball/zoo/concert. Oh, of course, I'll attend the appointment/brontosaurus exhibit/work party thing. He'll ask if I'm okay if he plays a show in 2 months with one band. Later he'll ask I'd be okay if he played with another band in a few weeks.  I have as much of an idea about what I would like to do in 2 months as I do about what I'll be hungry for in exactly one year. So I usually just say it's fine.

But when the time comes, it doesn't always feel fine. After staying at home all day with a baby, I usually get a mild to moderate case of stir crazy by 5pm. I get excited about seeing which direction the wind might blow us tonight and in my excitement, I forget to consult The Calendar. When I learn that tonight there's a band practice, or show that I agreed to weeks ago, the wind gets knocked out of me... so to speak, and I end up staying home... again.  Between this band, this band, this band, and sometimes (recently) this band and the band for this,  I have had a lot of time to contemplate the meaning of life.

Either that happens, or I'm looking forward to a low key evening and realize that I have agreed to make 53 of some obscure thing for some unknown purpose. One way or another, my time tends to get spoken for, even when I chose not to plan it out. It reminds me of budgeting in that if I don't decide where my money is going, it ends up getting spent anyway.

The moral of this story is: Inviting one out to play is inviting the other to stay (home and do nothing while the baby sleeps)

The other moral (for me) is: plan ahead, instead.

And the final moral: don't invite my husband to join your band.

*Disclaimer: I love music, I love all of the aforementioned bands, I love my husband, I love my home, and I love my angel baby.

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