taking stock

Babysitting version 2.0 is set to happen tomorrow at noon. I called up A. a little while ago to check and make sure all systems were go. When I got home tonight, I had a glass of wine with my dinner. I'm on my own and I ran to the grocery store on my way home, so dinner was bread and cheese. I love casseroles and lasagnes, dishes that my mother made, but I've realized that cheese and bread is my comfort food. The wine has totally gone to my head in a lovely relaxing way. A Friday night way, where the world is quiet and contemplative and maybe a little nostalgic. Calling A. reminded me of all the time we had spent since we arrived here in the twin cities drinking and hanging out with him. His wife doesn't approve of drinking. Thus he has given it up except for special occasions.

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I miss having the A. I knew, unmarried and childfree, more than I can say sometimes. Sure I love his kid and his wife is a fine person, but talking to him just now on the phone made me wish it was 2002 again. When we lived six blocks away from each other and would stop by all the time. We'd sit on our porch, me, Shannon, Erin, A., and talk and smoke and drink beer. I know life moves on but when I think of perfect moments, I think of that summer on that porch. It was our youth as cheesy as it sounds, a time, when looking back now, was so easy and responsibility-free.

I long for and talk about having kids and waiting and all that, but I do celebrate my present freedom. I enjoyed having just cats before we got dogs, and I enjoy being childless right now. Or maybe it's that I try to take advantage of this time because once we do have kids, it will never be the same again. Because A. will never be the same now that he's father. Good or bad, that's just how it is. I've got to stop wishing for the past, I know. I still love hanging out with him, when we can find the time. And he will always be my friend because of those beers and all that time on the porch.