I miss brunch
Of all the things parent and young family related, there are quite a few that warriors called parents and/or guardians give up from our previous “life” that we let go of for our family without a problem.
For you and me, I imagine that list may look somewhat the same, somewhat different. But since we’re all sharing, here’s my list of my things I haven’t minded giving up on behalf of my children:
-Most nights, late dinners (hangry is a real problem for me)
-Swimming parties/pool parties
-Late nights (meaning, out past ahem, 8 pm.)
-Hanging out by the pool all day or at the beach all day (and cue Alanis – because guess where I grew up? The beach. Isn’t it ironic…)
-Days of silence, without chortles or giggles, or before, when I was single, days without kisses
-To some degree, the whole gym scene
-A predictable bedtime routine with responsibility for only putting myself to bed
For the most part, I don’t miss those things at all.
Especially the early-to-mid twenties pool parties that seemed to be prevalent in my day, where I felt uncomfortable hanging out in the middle of the day (I am nothing if not productive and/or a napaholic. Plus, the idea of “working a room” poolside makes me take deep gulps of air to calm down.) And then, at a pool party there’s the whole other level of discomfort – doing above uncomfortable activities in a bikini. Lots of panic at the disco for me.
And yes, I know – I must be a thrill to be around.
So, when we had kids, thankfully a lot of the things I found not so enjoyable went away as a matter of nature by the routines of having small children entail, and a lot of great things came as a matter of course. And yes, we had kids for a reason…and we wanted them and clearly, wanted to add more joy and a whole lot more chaos and mess into our lives.
But I will say – I do miss brunch. Or at least, the idea of brunch.
And sure – maybe you don’t, maybe you can still do brunch (you have a newborn, or a kid who doesn’t fall apart completely with late naps, or maybe you birthed an angel) but, as a young family who is so close to being able to withstand a late breakfast/earlyish lunch affair, I sure do miss them.
And yes – I’ve heard the flack about it – it’s the previous week’s leftovers, sometimes. The champagne isn’t that great. It can be loud and it can be packed but man oh man – a couple of hours to eat and chat and drink coffee into the early afternoon and maybe look at a newspaper in peace…would be nice. Brunch, in my opinion, is spectacular. It’s a mini Sunday (peace, relaxation, rest) all squished together with yummy foods and hot coffee brought to you by a lovely stranger, all within a span of two hours.
Last year about this time, I had brunch in Paris, at a nice little café with co-workers and friends on a business trip and it was lovely, I won’t deny it. A Parisian omelet (the real deal, in my opinion) and nectar of the gods coffee that was sweet and deep and warm and filled all the holes in me that an 8 hour flight poked in on the night before. So…perhaps this is where this little brunch craving is coming into play.
Or, perhaps, the fact that I’ve just done a total 180 with my life and priorities and it’s naturally affected how much time I have with my husband and myself makes brunch suddenly sexy. And glamorous. And wonderful. Just like how M&Ms look when I’m on a no-sugar spree.
It’s a very familiar feeling for me and perhaps you too – the crazymaking of being this close to Major Goal (whatever that may be – retirement, the big 4-0 or 5-0, New Baby or the next level on Candy Crush) that you almost just can’t stand it. The closeness of it (much like how I feel about brunch, and potentially, writing a book proposal) is making you crazy. Absolutely crazy, due to it’s nearness. It was so much easier to be mannerly and patient, and well, sane when the goal wasn’t so close.
Which, is not unlike the last four days of my first pregnancy. The last four days were harder than all of the other pregnancy days added up together. I could so closely see the chalk on the finish line that I about whimpered all the way up until the end.
And I imagine, not so different than my recent brunch obsession. So close I can taste the eggs and peace.
But, until then, we’re all hanging out in what I’m calling this Wild Middle. The Wild Middle where you’re waiting for things to happen. Also known as Life. And, as we all sagely know, it’s a Whole New World when we get there.
But until we get there, I’ll heat up the coffee.
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