It just hit me how completely boring my life must seem to my childless friends. My best friend is trying to arrange a get-together for this summer for our fifteenth high school reunion. Yes, that's right - I am FREAKING old.
Anyhow, she's come up with the idea of getting a gorgeous cabin at Canaan for a three day weekend. Sounds like so much fun that it kills me I can't go. But I'll have a newborn that I'm not about to leave overnight, much less for three days. "So bring her!" she tells me, and I know that she means it. But she loves babies. I don't think that everyone else who'll be going feels the same.
For here's the weird thing: Even though I'm 32, I'm the first - and only - one of our group of friends to have kid(s). Even weirder, if you had looked at us in high school, I would probably have been the last you'd guess to be doing the whole domestic thing. Funny how life works out.
I know they're all thinking that, jeez, Cindy needs to get a life outside of her kids. But even though I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to go on their trip, I would rather be with my kids. If they had kids too, that would rock, but even though they would all surely be nice about it, I haven't been a mom for so long that I can't remember how much kids can get on your nerves when you don't have any. Heck, I love Izzy more than anything, and he still gets on my last good nerve about 10 times a day.
So I'll be missing out on the big trip this year. Maybe for our 20th reunion we can all take our kids to Disney World.
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