A couple of nights ago I went for a late run to Target. And by late I mean I left the house at 9pm which in some less suburban areas is considered early evening but around these New England parts it’s damn late. I had some random thoughts on my little solo jaunt into the night.
- I freaked a bit when I had a braxton hicks contraction and remembered that the day I was in labor with Dessa I had the same urge to go to Target. I got mildly worried I was going through some kind of subconscious act of laboring in Target and wondered if I’d be able to drive myself home if I really did start contracting. I needn’t have worried, I’m still not in labor.
- I realized I am way, super far detached from menstrual trends. I’ve been an Always kind of girl and a Tampax chick but even my trusted brands don’t look familiar to me anymore. I bought some Always Infinity type thing which I’m not even quite sure if it’s a pantyliner or an actual pad pad. So confusing. I admit to buying a package of depends as well.
- I discovered half way through my shopping that I could walk really comfortably if I hunched over the shopping cart handle; it felt like I was relaxing on my exercise ball. I can only imagine what folks must have thought seeing this whale of a lady hunchbacking it throughout the store.
- I’m so pregnant at this point I can’t even enjoy an evening of shopping by myself. Not complaining but I was hoping to feel a bit more exhilirated at going to Target solo for a bit. Unfortunately, aching joints, sleepiness and fatigue all beat out any kind of shopping excitement.
- I realized that since becoming a mom, I don’t go out at night as often. With Dessa’s bedtime early in the evening, usually sometime around 7pm, we plan most regular nights to have time to unwind at home before diving into the bedtime routine. So as I left our home at 9pm, I noticed something I’d call grown up awareness I’d never known before. Gone is the carefree city girl who would galavant around town into the wee hours of the morning, here it seems is the adult version of that city girl who is cautious and weary of leaving the house too late. It was weird to recognize this kind of loss of freedom and independence. Granted it probably also has something to do with parenthood and how much more aware it makes you of the frailty of life but nonetheless I miss the old city girl sometimes.
Who’d have thought a trip to Target could be so enlightening?