I don't know why, but it seems every time I hit a rough patch emotionally, physically, mentally or what have you, I start dreaming about living in Savannah again. Which is positively insane considering how terrible (in hindsight) living there was. Or maybe that's exactly why i dream about it. Because even though now, looking back on those days, I can clearly see that holy crap was there some crazy shit going on in my life then, at the time, in the moment, life was excellent. Everyone was just kind of existing as best as they could, and we all had a blast no matter how broke we were, or what was going on around us. Now, with a family, a baby, I am at all times accutely aware of every little problem around me. And I'm always nitpicking, trying to perfect things that can't be perfected. Maybe I'm just nostalgic for a time when my biggest responsibility was keeping myself alive. I certainly don't miss the drugs, the drinking (although occassionally I wouldn't mind a good glass of scotch), the staying awake for days at a time (of course when Finn is in the midst of teething, we ALL get to re-live this gem), the not knowing when I was going to see my family again. Stability has its perks, and I enjoy them very much. I like being at home and knowing that A) there is edible food besides ramen to be had for dinner, B)there will not be gun shots outside my bedroom window every Thursday through Sunday night, and C) I will not mistake my hubby or anyone else for an intruder and nearly bash their brains in with a Louisville slugger. At the time, we all sat around and laughed about stuff like this, and many many more such incidents. But now, it's like, how in the hell was I not perpetually scared out of my mind? Maybe it's because I was surrounded by so many good friends those days. Even though most of them eventually ended up being incredibly bad friends, for awhile there we had such a nice little family. And that may be the biggest reason that I get all reminiscent about the S-A-V. Starting a family, having a baby, while positively amazing and rewarding, can be lonely. All the non-parent friends kind of slink off once you can't go out on a whim, when just going out for a quick drink requires calling all nearest relatives to find a sitter, and then giving detailed instructions to said sitter. And even if you do get to go out, people with out kids can only sit through so much baby chatter. And if you're lucky enough to have friends with kids you find yourself comparing your baby to theirs. Even if you don't mean to do it. And plus you get all kinds of un-asked for advice. And you get critiqued for everything you do differently then them. There's no winning really.
So, I guess I'll just look forward to spring, and pawn these southerly thoughts off to the weather we've been having. At least in spring we have new ducks to look forward to. And who knows maybe the ducks will bring new friends with them.