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In the movie Lost in Translation there is a scene in which Bill Murray's character explains that, upon having your first child, "your life as you know it is gone...never to return." The movie has been one of my favorites for years. I just wish that I had known he meant my life.

In early 2010, I gave birth to the world's most perfect child. (Is there a parent who doesn't think his/her child is the world's most perfect?) In addition to being beautiful, he is brilliant and sweet and funny and hands-down the best thing that will ever happen to me. This kid is my entire world. I had somehow suspected through most of my life that he would be, which is why I fought very hard to have him. But about the post-childbirth apocalypse, I had absolutely no clue.

To say things have changed would be misleading. EVERYTHING has changed. Most of it has been good--some not so great--but everything is without a doubt different. And now the world changes once again. My little family and I find ourselves journeying from the big city to beautiful, calm Montana. Will the change be for the better? As with anything, the answer is sometimes "yes," sometimes "no," and always sought with massive quantities of hope. Come with me as I navigate the roads from fast-paced, big-city lawyer to Montana Momhood. Is there a line that can be walked? We'll see. But I can guarantee, at a minimum, it will be an adventurous road trip....

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Hostess With the Not-So-Mostess

I love get-togethers.  Whether a party of 4 or 40, I absolutely love them.  I love going to them and I love throwing them.  I love all aspects of them--from the planning to the seating charts to the food to the graphs of conversations you expect to take place (that's not normal?) to the decorations...you get the picture.  Love it.

When my friends and I had exactly zero responsibilities and a fair amount of disposable income, having people over for games or planning birthday outings was absolutely tops.  For example, on one of my whatever-number birthdays, my awesome friends planned an elaborate outing at a martini bar.  Which was fan-freaking-tastic.  And which I promptly left at 10:00 while they happily carried on throughout the evening.  By way of further example, "backyard" (fine, back or roof deck) BBQs were also the norm--someone would put down plenty in booze and brats (hey, it was the Midwest) and, as mosquitos are too busy watching the Cubs suck to bother people in Chicago, it made for several happy nights.

So, things are totally the same now, right?  Um, no.  And it's not the location that has changed.  Last weekend I had a few family members over for a BBQ.  Nothing big and not very well-scripted--very last minute, "hey you haven't seen the baby yet" kind of thing.  But, still, I was very excited to get food and plates, etc.  It felt like getting back into the swing of things (maybe I am a 55 year old male going through a midlife crisis?) and socializing.  Yeah, and I was a TOTAL disaster.  I completely forgot to put out the potato salad.  The corn wasn't done until some 20 minutes after the burgers were getting cold.  And I ultimately ran out of buns.  WHAT HAPPENED TO ME???  The worst part?  I was dead-exhausted by halfway through.  By 4pm I wanted to kick everyone out.  It was insane.  AND I only had part of one poorly-made mojito.  Pitiful.  Just pitiful.

I guess my point today is that our youth cannot be recaptured.  Nor can our abilities.  So I guess I am going to throw in the towel and hit Dennys for their 4:30 dinner specials.  Anyone care to join me?
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1 comment:

  1. EmilyJune 12, 2011 at 7:36 PM

    I'm pretty sure I am still drunk from that night at the martini bar. My liver hurts just thinking about it. And don't worry, geography will not keep me from celebrating your birthday without you. I'll happily continue the tradition.

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