Go Into Hiding

Sometimes, when things just don't seem to go your way, do you ever feel like just hiding until the storm is over?

Yesterday, I went shopping. Well, I went to go help a friend shop, rather. She is going on a big fun trip to NYC, Philly, etc and needed some warmer clothes, so another friend and I went along to help. The Monkey tagged along as well.

I ended up feeling like the third wheel. Not really because of what my friends did, but because I was different. I had the kid; I had the cart. When it came time for our friend to try her clothes on, both of them took off to the dressing rooms, while I stood guard over the cart and purses. It was just a nasty flashback of second grade and me being the little chubby girl that got left out of things alot. And so, instead of just trying to get more involved in conversation, I left the moment they both returned from the dressing rooms. I retreated. I escaped. I went to my car and cried. It was completely irrational, and I'm not making anyone out to be the bad guy; I just felt sad and lonely.

Why is it that being the third wheel hurts so much? Why does being an odd number have to feel so awkward? The fact is that I don't have a plethora of friends, at least not here, makes it even worse. I feel like I don't really have anyone to talk to about this. And the ones I do have are single, or childless, or both. They aren't in the same place as me, so they don't really understand. They don't get that I might have to leave early because the Monkey is cranky and ready for his nap. They don't understand that I can't go down the shoe isle because Monkey will grab all of the shoes off the shelves (well...who can blame him? I wanted to, too...gosh there were these adorable purple ones that were just calling my name...). And they don't seem to understand that while I am in a different situation, I'm there because I want to be involved. I want to be included.

Its hard to have such a wonderful family, such a great kid, and then still wish for freedom. That's what makes me feel so guilty. I want it all. And then I think that if I did have it all, in some magical way, I still wouldn't be satisfied. Perhaps that's just the woman in me.

This morning, the Monkey was playing around and hid in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. He tucked himself in, and said "Bye bye!" as he shut the door. I couldn't help but wish I could fit into the cupboard and hide out, if only for a few moments. Sometimes you just don't want to deal. But...you have to. That's part of the beauty of being a grown up. Learning to face things that bother you, fighting your way to what you want, compromising in times that require a straight head.

If only after just a bit of hiding.