April 10, 2022
Tonight, I am grateful for a day full of activities. This time, 12 hours ago, all I wanted to do was cancel on everyone and laze about in bed, while wearing pajamas, and scrolling all day on my phone. I’m glad I chose the other path.
Starting the day with coffee & breakfast with friends - outside of my own house - at 8:30am is not my usual weekend activity. But, today, I had plans and I didn’t want to bail. I didn’t sleep great and I live to lounge in bed until 9 on weekend mornings. I was still full from the night before - nachos and birthday cake - and didn’t feel particularly hungry. I drank wine in a not-super-chill way, more of in a I want to drink to take the edge off of my social anxiety so the wine goes down crazy-super-fast and I keep refilling my glass kind of way and I didn’t love that about myself in the light of day. Anyways, I made it up, out of bed and at the coffee place by 8:35am and I was proud of being almost on time despite the strong desire to not be vertical at that hour. We had coffee and a bite to eat, it was even “hippy shit” as my friend pointed out. It felt good to sit around and talk about real life stuff, the kind that’s hard, and listen to their latest life updates. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to not wallow in judgment.
I made the time to run on the treadmill today. Not to punish myself, as I have been known to do, for my overindulgences yesterday. I ran on the treadmill so I could have more time to listen to a podcast I wanted to finish. It would also allow me to do something good for myself, knowing that I would step off the treadmill after running 2 miles and walking another half or so and feel relaxed and in a peaceful state-of-mind. It worked and didn’t take a ton of time. I could do it while my kid played with her dolls next to me (read: I did something for myself and my kid did not watch tv). I worked up a sweat and then took a hot, midday shower which felt like an indulgence after my run. All together, it was about 60 rejuvenating minutes all for myself and gave me the energy for the rest of the day.
Our kid had a playdate at our house today with a friend she’s known since she was about 6 months old. Even at this age, playdates still feel a bit like work. I have to make lunches and snacks and come up with ideas of things for them to do. Sometimes, we go out to the park by the house. Sometimes, I sit on the front stoop and supervise while they cruise around in the PowerWheels. Often times, I referee their arguments or complaints about one another. Today, I sat on the deck and read a magazine. I roasted some beets for the week ahead. I made hard-boiled eggs for lunches. I did laundry and put clothes away and tidied up the house. It wasn’t exactly glamorous but I always feel good and like I am starting a new week on fresh footing when I make the time to get organized.
We also had a playdate at a park nearby with some friends from school. The kids all ran around, and played in the sand and climbed on the play structures, while the parents laughed and shared parenting stories until it was time to head home for dinner. Getting to know parents who are unaware that our kid is transgender is always really awkward for me. As much as I would like to be open about it, because I feel like doing so would release any shame associated with gender identity, she doesn’t want anyone to know that she was assigned male at birth so I make a point to not talk about it. I’m sure people think it’s odd that she has a traditionally-masculine, non-traditional name but maybe they don’t think about us at all. I’m learning how to be fine with all of it. And whether - or how to - find the words to have conversations with her about the birds and the bees and how it relates to her body. It makes me uncomfortable to think about, but I want to always make her feel normal and loved, exactly as she is. Despite my perma-awkwardness and the fact that we haven’t all endured the challenges of our transgender preschooler’s social transition (thank you preschool parent group!), all of the parents make me feel welcome and the kids make my kid feel loved and accepted. I could bottle up that feeling, it’s the best.
My husband made dinner tonight. It was ribeye and a salad and tortellini for the little one because we never learned the lesson of everyone in the family eating the same meal. It drives me nuts; she’s so picky about what she eats, none of it is green and way too much of it comes from a package. But we sat at the dining table together, ate our separate dinners and talked about our day and whether or not magic is real.
It wasn’t magic, but it was real and lovely and just the kind of day I wanted and didn’t know I needed. For that, I am grateful.
