Men!

Jeez... you know, I don't get it.

I try so hard to be fair.

Think from a man's point of view.

I am struggling.

First off, last night I was doing some nails. Nothing unusual. I do them in the day, and then the odd evening. I only do a few these days for a bit of extra change, unlike when I used to be able to do them full time. I enjoy the one-on-one visits, an it's great being part of a two sided conversation.

Soooo... anyway, the appointment wasn't until 8:30 pm. What else would we be doing on a Friday night? I had the baby fed, and he simply just had to be put to bed. Easy enough- so I thought.

Nope.

I can hear the baby crying halfway through. Really giving the lungs a workout. I stop what I am doing and come upstairs from the basement and make a bottle. Formula is there for these type of scenarios. I go back downstairs to continue, and a short while later I can hear Andy piping up 'Aaaaare yoooou dooooone yeeeeeet?!?!'

I finished what I was doing and make my way upstairs, and Hudson is sleeping (but still fussing) on Dad's chest. My friend leaves, and I am given the 3rd degree. How dare I schedule something so late and make it inconvenient for him? He can't handle him!

I explained that I have no ME time. I do my own nails-- and I only get my hair done once every couple of months. Aside from the odd nail appointment I do from the house, Hudson and I are virtually inseparable.

I also give fair warning as to time and date the appointments are.

So why am I feeling so guilty?

Then today, I was supposed to be going to a stagette. He was well aware that I would be going for a short while in the early part of the evening, and would be coming home before the 'real' festivities started. I would be out for maybe a couple of hours.

I am not 'ready' to whoop it up just yet. The old me would have ripped it up and would have been a ring leader in the peer pressure department ensuring everyone consistently had full drink glasses and an ample supply of shooters. Ooooh, and I love to dance! I can shake it!!!

So, the moral of yet another man-bashing post is because HE is doing what HE wants to do. As we speak, HE is down at the Rugby field/clubhouse watching the game/drinking beer, and I know full well HE is having a great time doing it. HE did offer earlier to take the little dude with him to give me a bit of time alone this afternoon. I obviously declined-- stagettes happen on a Saturday night... Not Saturday afternoon.

Father's Day must be a 2 day event?