Pity Party, Table for 1

I swear, if she didn't need me to feed her or change her diapers, my daughter would take care of herself. Seriously, I don't know how it's possible, but I think Lulu might be one of the most independent infants I've ever seen.

Needless to say, while on this wonderful maternity leave (that I never ever ever want to end...for real, no sarcasm), my days are spent staring at her while she either stares back at me or sleeps. And when I'm not staring (usually shortly after I realize she's sleeping and I can stop staring now), I let some form of entertainment totally fry my brain, namely in the form of Facebook, Google Reader, or watching Gilmore Girls on DVD (I'm already on Season 4 of 7).

While checking Facebook today, Blondie had posted hundreds of pictures. Apparently, she just figured out how to do that. And I absolutely loved checking out the pictures of all the fun things she's done (some dating back a few months, others dating back a few weeks).

But I've got to be honest. I started to get sad. This is the first time in a really really long time that I've gotten sad like this. (And seriously, this is major, cause I was horribly terrified I'd end up with Post-Partum Depression because I've come to terms with the fact that I'm overly emotional [though I don't always let people see that], and minus a few minor Baby Blues moments, when I would cry because "she's getting bigger, and we had a deal that she wouldn't get bigger!", I've been pretty well adjusted.)

Right, anyway, as I was saying, I was really sad. In these pictures, I was seeing my friends doing all these things that either I couldn't do (e.g. the trip to Chicago was during my honeymoon), or doing things that they didn't even think to invite me to cause, well, I have a husband and a kid. And what I didn't see in any pictures was me.

I love my friends. And I know we're still friends (heck, we just had dinner last week for Blondie's birthday), so it's not like I feel like I'm just floating out here alone or something. But in a weird little way, I also feel like I've been ditched.

I just worry that I'm missing out. And every time I have that thought about "missing out," I then feel guilty because I've got this amazing new experience going on (i.e. spending time with Lulu), and I might be missing that, too, if I waste too much time being sad or if God forbid I try to experience all those other things.

I love my daughter to bits.

But I'm still just 25 years old. I can have fun, too, you know!

I know that this is one of those life adjustments that many who came before me have likely had to deal with. I just wish I knew the secret for how to feel like a wife and mother, but feel like a fun-loving friend who gets to see and do things, too.