I'll admit it. I was feeling a little selfish and a lot sorry for myself. Kevin is in Indianapolis with a group of our college friends this weekend. They're celebrating with our friend Florian who just finished his PhD and accepted his first professorship. They are also meeting our friend Mark's fiance for the first time. We decided together that Kevin should use our free ticket on Frontier to make the trip. The timing with breast-feeding (I'm still not ready to pump for a whole weekend) and finances wasn't right for both of us to go.
So tonight I was feeling selfish. I wanted to be in Indiana having a few cocktails. I wanted to be able to go to the bathroom by myself (without teething baby in tow) or take a decadently long shower without worrying that the baby might wake up. I was feeling lonely and a little bit sad.
After a few hours of annoying and completely useless self-pity, I sat down on the couch with Alex in my arms. He was entering the "I'm tired but can't go to sleep so I'm feeling fussy" phase that happens some evenings since teething started. I put on his favorite Norah Jones CD. He looked up and me and smiled from behind his pacifier.
I suddenly realized that I was being ridiculous. How could anything be better than spending an evening with this amazing little boy. Certainly a few beers with friends would be fun, but no one there (not even Kevin) could give me that look of pure unabashed joy at simply being near me. I'm sitting here with a warm bundle snoozing in my arms and feeling gleeful. Sure I'm missing out, but you know what? So are they.
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