Homebody

I am a homebody

I really do not like leaving my house unless I have to.  And the older I get the worse it seems to be. Just last night I travelled a good 30 minutes away to go to my oldest son’s first ever wrestling match.  Honestly, I was not planning on going. I had already prepped my son that I probably wouldn’t be there using excuses like “I have after school tutoring and by the time I get home and drive there it will be almost over”… “It’s supposed to get icy tomorrow evening”… “It will be too much to drive all the way there with your younger brothers.”  He was a good sport about and didn’t outwardly seem to care. It was supposed to be his 3rd match, which probably would have been fine to miss an away match at that point, but because of Snowpocalypse, it was his first. I tried to subdue my guilt by giving him extra kisses and another pep talk when I woke him up for school that morning and by leaving him some money for concessions and a note of encouragement by his backpack.  I knew his school was up against my school at this event called a tri-match, and talking to my students about it throughout the day only caused my guilty, slacker-mom feelings to intensify. On my way to pick up my youngest from daycare, I still wasn’t sure if I was going to go. The thought of driving somewhere I have never been, not being in the comfort and safety of my own home, not getting home until it was dark on a school night, not getting into my comfy pants until much later than usual, being around so many people I don’t know.  Too many unknowns and uncomfortable things. I just won’t go, he’ll be fine, he won’t even notice and won’t even care that I’m not there.

Then I got a text from my husband that he was leaving work and heading to the match.  This was a nice surprise because he hadn’t even mentioned going, in fact, I just assumed he wouldn’t be able to because he would be missing work for a field trip with our youngest son the next day.  Well, now I had to go. I mean, I couldn’t sit at home in my pajama pants while my husband, my son’s stepfather, was cheering in the stands. So I sucked it up, grabbed my middle son off the bus and trekked over too.  And I am BEYOND happy that I did. It was actually pretty enjoyable to watch. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was so nervous for him. More nervous than I have ever been at any of his events. Probably because this is something I have never personally experienced before, and I had no idea what to expect.  But he did so great. All of my stupid excuses from the night before seemed so trivial … even with tutoring I barely missed any of the match because it started late … it didn’t get icy until much much later which caused us to have another day off from school … the younger brothers were just fine enjoying concessions candy, their tablets, asking questions about what was happening and why, and of course cheering on their big brother.

As long as I can remember, I’ve enjoyed just being home.  Around my family, people who know me and I can be myself around.  I even remember telling my mom to tell me no when my friends would call and ask if I wanted to do something.  “Hang on, let me ask.” Cover the receiver, shake my head, and mouth the word no before I’d uncover the receiver and loudly ask her the question and she’d loudly respond with, “No.”  Boom. Guilt-free chilling at home. I still do this, but now I use my kids and/or husband as an excuse.

This morning during our ice day, I was cleaning the bathroom and listening to Rachel Hollis’s live Facebook video.  She said a lot of great things, but this particular comment really struck a chord with me: “I didn’t know how much I missed that until I was sitting inside of it last night.”  This is totally me. When I am inside the conversations and laughter with my friends, and sometimes even family, I am enveloped in their love and friendship and it replenishes my entire being.  I usually leave wondering why I don’t make a point to be inside these moments more often. But leaving the comfort and safety of my home is just difficult sometimes. I just need to remember how much I miss those moments and how much I NEED those moments from time to time.

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