Another Saturday Night

Here I am at 7:30 on a strangely quiet Saturday night.  Ray has taken Mitzi and Cooper to the Puppet Showplace Theater in Brookline, to see a Halloween performance of the Gerwick Puppets.  Too scary for the little girls, we decided.  Instead, after our early (4:30 p.m.) dinner, Ellie, Joanna and I made popcorn and watched “Flushed Away”.

I don’t expect the others to return until nine, or later.  I relish the quiet house, but at the same time feel slightly edgy.  I hate to squander my alone time, but am too tired to feel motivated to do much.  I ought to write, I remind myself.  Now is the perfect time.  Having recently submitted a manuscript to a publisher, I ought not rest on my laurels.  Perfect another, send it on its way, and so on.  Write.  I might.

Saturday night.  Remember what that meant?  Date night, hanging out night, narrowly miss getting into serious trouble night.  With kids and a nonexistent discretionary fund for Ray and I, it’s now get to bed early and sleep late tomorrow night.  I don’t mind so much.  Sleep is precious.

Tomorrow in the late afternoon Mitzi is going to see “High School Musical 3” with a friend; Cooper is going to a birthday party.  I’m sending Ray to the Y in the morning with the little girls for free swim.  Equity is impossible, but it’s the least we can do for our 2 and 3 year olds who don’t yet have a peer group with whom to socialize.

Making choices.  I’ve never been very good at it.  I’ve never spent too much time learning how to choose from my heart, my conscience, too often choosing what I think will please most people at the same time.  One of the many character traits I hope to not pass on to my kids.  So I try my best, I practice choosing what I want, what I think is right.  I choose to give the little girls some special time with their Dad, even though their social time (playdates and parties and alone time with Dad) will come, just as it did for their big brother and sister, (who, when they were 2 and 3 years old,  to be honest, had very little in the way of social diversions, what with a newborn at home and Mommy pregnant with number four and Daddy working far away).  I choose this because I know it is the right thing to do today, not because it is equitable and fair.

If only all of life’s choices were that easy.  Then again, maybe they are.  Maybe it is we who make situations more complex than they need to be.  Choose from the heart.  Do what you believe to be right.

Not so complicated, after all.


One thought on “Another Saturday Night

  1. Enjoy the quite time. Meditate, listen to peaceful music, light sented candles, center you mind. We humans are complicated people.Most of us are so co dependent that we are ‘caregivers”/ “caretakers”. We forget that our souls need to be re energized every now and then.

    Life is filled with choices, you can start your day with saying ” not another day of the same old, but, instead say, another day to enjoy life, to play with my children, to make love to my husband, to write a little, to take a stroll in the fall charged air. Maybe I can visit another Mom and help her get through another day together.

    Always choose from the heart when you are in doubt of afraid. Life is not a race or a contest to see who wins or is always right. Life is to give of yourself to help family, friends and strangers. These are things I neglected to do in my addictive life. Today I try to do the right thing. Do I always do it? No, but I keep trying.

    Look around and count your blessings. Be grateful for what you have. There are so many that have little or nothing.

    Kiss the kids when their asleep and say a thank you prayer to GOD.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s