I have a friend who is four months pregnant with her first child. She’s past whatever is that golden age for pregnancy, meaning increased risk for complications for her and the baby. I called her today to see how things are going (well, thank goodness). When I called her, I was on my way home from a cooking class and I told her that I plan to use what I’d learned when I next host supper club. She started lamenting that she’ll “never get a chance to do stuff like that.” I asked, “Stuff like what?” She said take a cooking class or be in a supper club. She asked herself out loud why she and her husband had started so late.
What a funny thought. I reminded her that I started supper club after I became a mother. And I told her this was my first cooking class ever. Heck, I didn’t even take home ec in high school.
Mind you, my friend tends toward the melodramatic plus her hormones are out of wack. Still, I felt very lucky all of a sudden while I was talking to her. There I was giving her a pep talk about how she’ll be able to do fun stuff after the baby comes, maybe not right away but eventually.
I reached out to friends about starting a supper club when my second was still an infant, precisely because I wanted to have a life beyond wife, milk bag, diaper changer, booger picker, etc. I’m having that life. Of course, I don’t get to have or do everything I want, but I have some plans, some goals, some dreams. Some are frivolous, some not. Maybe I’ll accomplish all of them, maybe not.
One thing is for sure: Talking to Preggers was a good reminder that it’s my responsibility for making myself a full, rich life.
Coming soon, a cake decorating class.