Hangin' up the Dancin' Shoes...

This weekend, I went out with a few friends for a closer friend's bday. It was a two-night affair: drinking(for them), dancing, socializing---the usual components to a night of fellowshiping with the homies. Friday evening we went to Wet Willie's--a bar with awesome liquor slushie drinks of any flavor you can imagine. Of course, the night started with a bit of a pre-game at one of the girls' houses...it's tradition to take a few shots before going out because, recession or not, drinks at the bar are expensive! Almost immediately I'm deemed the designated driver for the night, which I didn't mind so much---we're over those days of drinking ourselves into an oblivion, to the point where we can't withstand the 4-inch heels we love so much. So it wasn't like I was babysitting. Comes with age, I suppose. We've never been ones to be sloppy anyway. At any rate, the outting was nice. When we got to the bar, I saw friends I haven't seen in a while, we joked and we laughed over my virgin drink. What's even funnier is that a little cutie came up to me; I watched him get his swag right before he approached me: "You got a man?" he asks. "Yes, I do actually," I respond. "Well, can I give you my number?" "Sir, I don't even want to beat around the bush, I'm pregnant. I'm only telling you so you don't persist when I tell you no," I say. It's funny how I get all proper, huh? Anyway, with that, the guy shakes my hand and tells me that he appreciates me for telling him so he doesn't get caught up. He even went so far as to claim that he wishes I was his girl because I'm "holding it down for my man," lol...guess that's a guy's dream. I'm not going to lie, being approached gave me a boost of confidence because I felt fat and my feet hurt and my baby acne isn't all the way under control. Call me shallow...every woman needs that sometimes, to know she's still got it! lol.
The next night we went to dinner in uptown Charlotte. It was a really nice establishment called Mez. The menu consisted of everything from crab cakes to fillet Mignon. Of course there was a pretty extensive wine selection also. And it smelled so good on everyone's breath. There were bottles at the table and I wanted to partake, but I know I have a greater responsibility...it wasn't an itch to drink---like an alchy. It was a desire to be fully involved with the social drinking swirling around me. I don't know...it's a fine line I guess. The same feeling came back when we went to wind down at a lounge called Cosmo's. They have the best martinis I've ever had. I had to fight my natural instinct order my usual $8 Flirtini and laugh with the rest of them. But I had to watch my bestie order the new cherry limade martini without trying a sip myself. Now, I'm not saying all of this to express some sort of regret for making the decision to carry Jr. My child's life is very precious to me and I take it seriously enough not to even try red wine---which I read pregnant woman CAN drink. I only want to acknowledge that this time out with my friends was a milestone/realization/wake-up call for me.
I'm at the end of my first trimester. I said I'd wear my 4-inches as long as I can fit my dainty feet into the strappy summer sandals. And I said I'd go out as long as I can fit into my Little Black Dress without showing how much Jr. has extended my waist line. But the truth is, I'm already slowing down! I was out with the homies and didn't really get to have the fun I used to because I was so sleepy (mind you, I took a looonnggg nap before we stepped out). I was stressing about how much I have in my bank account before I splurged on a meal that I knew I wouldn't finish. I'm growing tired of the feeling that I have to pee every 2 minutes---then holding it because I don't feel like walking to the ladies' room. As everyone snapped photos and sipped on their wine, all I thought about was how I'm 13 weeks and Jr. has fingerprints now. Then I marveled at the fact that Jr. is going to start to pick up weight faster now, so I can finally begin to feel the kicks on a regular basis. I thought about how I should have done my laundry so I didn't have to wear such a short get up, the only clean item in my closet. Let's face it: an LBD on me now-a-days isn't as comfortable to wear when it keeps riding up my leg because of a small belly and a previously existing, rather round behind;) I hated that I was asked continuously if I'm OK because I make a funny face. Or if I can walk a certain distance and handle standing a certain period of time. My feet would hurt in my Aldo strappys before I was pregnant; I wouldn't want to walk 3 blocks before Jr. got here! I had to tell my pal that I'm not handicapped, just carrying life and we're fine. I cringe thinking of the coming months when this concern for my condition becomes more present, when I'm catered to by people who barely know me because they'll assume I won't be able to lift a glass to my mouth for a swig of water. Then there are those people who want to rub the belly---Lord! I used to be one of those people and now it's coming back to bite me. It just makes me feel uncomfortable when I'm put on the spot for some of this foolishness. Now, I know this is all out of love; my homies are just concerned and I am after all the first to have a baby. So, they're trying to adjust as well...they include me in all activities as if nothing changed. I appreciate it, but I'm thinking it's time to hibernate from the nightlife for a while. I never wanted to be the one under my man all the time, but I'm not going to spend all my Saturday nights alone! I hope you're reading this Babe, lol. I'll have to miss some of the summer shindigs and fall affairs. By the winter, I'll be immersed in decorating Jr.'s room; that's going to be a party in itself:) So when you miss me in the streets, just know I'd love to be running them with you. Be sure to invite me to your house for a plate of food the next day to tell me all about the crazy weekend! Understand, I'll be back when I'm comfortable enough to be in the party scene again...
This is Flyy Preggo, OUT!