I have a calendar on my wall, my kitchen wall. It hangs on a nail. I have to track down a pen or pencil in order to put something on the calendar. In this fast track, techie, electronic world we live in, one might think, how very old fashion of me, right? Right! Well, I like my calendar. I like to put things on it. I like that sometimes people have to wait for me to go home and check my calendar before I can commit to things. I like it and I'm gonna keep buying them. Smart phone, outlook, google...Fa-getta 'bout it.
My husband and I like to be busy. Really really busy. I'm not sure we know how to live any other way. Oh wait, I do have a faint memory or two of our pre-baby life where we might have done very little at all. There might even be one infamous day in which we snuggled in bed and watch not one, not two, but four movies! So we can do lazy, we just don't choose to do it often. Therefore, our calendar is often full of obligations and fun plans. Sometimes I wonder how much I would forget if I didn't put things on my kitchen wall hanging old fashioned calendar. Although, I like to think the senior moments aren't setting in quite yet and most of the things would be remembered regardless of weather I ink them on my calendar or not. One of the things that I would never ever possibly forget is Book Club. It's a magical night. One would never forget. Sometimes I admittedly forget to read the book. But I never forget the date. My inhuman propensity to remember the monthly Book Club is kinda like the motherly instinct that would never allow me to forget Phillip or Finley's birthdays. Nonetheless, it gets written on the calendar (so do the birthdays). Why would one write down something one would never forget? I suppose it would remind my husband that he's flying solo on kiddo duty that night, should he go to put something on the calendar. Although, I don't believe he's ever written on the calendar, ever. So maybe it's just there to make me smile when I see it is approaching. Magical. Yes, yes. I describe it as, "magical" Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. Book Club is code for wine night. I'd be lying to deny that wine plays a role, possibly significant role, in the evening. But what makes it magical is the women. Nine amazing women. Each beautiful and unique. Each who I feel lucky to have in my life. They inspire me. A few I feel tied to for eternity because I originally met them through a playgroup I attended for years when my oldest was a wee bit littler. Okay, a lot littler. A playgroup who helped me keep my sanity as I waded through the days of a being a first time Mom. Waded, well, maybe some days I was swimming and some days I felt like I might drown but you get the point. Mommy-hood was better on Tuesday mornings than any other morning because of these women. Now if only they would all go and have babies so that we could have playgroup together again. I am certain I don't get the privileged to sit and chat with them often enough but I always look forward to a magical Monday night. A night that is denoted on my calendar as 'book club.'
My husband and I like to be busy. Really really busy. I'm not sure we know how to live any other way. Oh wait, I do have a faint memory or two of our pre-baby life where we might have done very little at all. There might even be one infamous day in which we snuggled in bed and watch not one, not two, but four movies! So we can do lazy, we just don't choose to do it often. Therefore, our calendar is often full of obligations and fun plans. Sometimes I wonder how much I would forget if I didn't put things on my kitchen wall hanging old fashioned calendar. Although, I like to think the senior moments aren't setting in quite yet and most of the things would be remembered regardless of weather I ink them on my calendar or not. One of the things that I would never ever possibly forget is Book Club. It's a magical night. One would never forget. Sometimes I admittedly forget to read the book. But I never forget the date. My inhuman propensity to remember the monthly Book Club is kinda like the motherly instinct that would never allow me to forget Phillip or Finley's birthdays. Nonetheless, it gets written on the calendar (so do the birthdays). Why would one write down something one would never forget? I suppose it would remind my husband that he's flying solo on kiddo duty that night, should he go to put something on the calendar. Although, I don't believe he's ever written on the calendar, ever. So maybe it's just there to make me smile when I see it is approaching. Magical. Yes, yes. I describe it as, "magical" Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. Book Club is code for wine night. I'd be lying to deny that wine plays a role, possibly significant role, in the evening. But what makes it magical is the women. Nine amazing women. Each beautiful and unique. Each who I feel lucky to have in my life. They inspire me. A few I feel tied to for eternity because I originally met them through a playgroup I attended for years when my oldest was a wee bit littler. Okay, a lot littler. A playgroup who helped me keep my sanity as I waded through the days of a being a first time Mom. Waded, well, maybe some days I was swimming and some days I felt like I might drown but you get the point. Mommy-hood was better on Tuesday mornings than any other morning because of these women. Now if only they would all go and have babies so that we could have playgroup together again. I am certain I don't get the privileged to sit and chat with them often enough but I always look forward to a magical Monday night. A night that is denoted on my calendar as 'book club.'
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