The other day I was accused of not getting out enough, while out enjoying a beautiful lunch at DeliCATessen - the irony was not lost on me. Yet, at the time, I really couldn't think of a good way to respond to this, except to say 'Of course I do!', shrug it off and change the subject. However, after the perspective of a good nights sleep and a little mental percolation, I find myself becoming increasingly indignant at this accusation, in fact I'm actually rather cross about it.
The accusation came from someone only 3 years my junior, a mother like myself. Yet here she is still measuring the quality of my life, and probably her own, based on how many nights out she has sans child. Really? REALLY? When are we going to grow up?
The more I think about it, the more I realise that my life is so full of so many more enriching and wonderful things (and I am NOT simply referring to my child) that a night out in a club kind of pales in comparison. I went out plenty before I had a child, most of the time I was out more than I was in. I loved it, and missed it for a long time after it stopped being a realistic pursuit. However, I also know that at that time, in comparison to now, my life was pretty empty - I studied and I socialised, prefect when your 25, less than fulfilling in your 30's. Now I grow vegetables, I belong to a book club, I belly dance, I still study full time, I have a part-time job, I am involved with organisations that I am passionate about such as Le Leche League and the Community Exchange System , I have started a small market-based business with a friend and obviously still spend as much time as I can with my family and friends - I'm a busy girl, and I get out plenty! Sure, the hours between 9pm and midnight are no longer the most happening (thank God!), but from 6:30am to 9pm I'm your girl!
Now, if you will excuse me I have to get ready, I'm off to a club tonight.