Fridays of Yore

I work in an office full of women. One of those women, T has a daughter, J who is 18. She works at a popular place to eat buffalo wings. You could say that those wings are wild.
Fine, she works at Buffalo Wild Wings. This particular BW3 is located downtown, which is a popular area to patronize on the weekends.

By the way, why the hell is it called BW3? The title of the restaurant only has two W’s. Can anyone shed some light on this?

While ya’ll research that for me I’m gonna go ahead with my post. So T asked her daughter J, who stopped by the office, when she had to go in to work. J replied, “5:00”. All of a sudden, I was swept back about 6 years to when I used to wait tables at Chili’s. I remembered how my job wouldn’t start ’till the early evening and how I would be there until 1-2 in the morning. I vividly remembered the dinner rushes, slinging the drinks, carrying trays of food to tables. And then I suddenly realized that it was Friday night and it hit me:

Friday nights don’t really exist in my world any more. I mean obviously, they do. Fridays didn’t just poof out of existence when I became a mom but in the sense that they used to be for me, they really did. Every other weekend, my husband works Friday-Sunday so our weekend evenings are usually spent at home. On his weekends off we will sometimes go out but it’s in a very different sense now. Everything we do is Nellie-centered. Will it be too loud? Too hot? Too cold? Will she be over-stimulated? Has she slept enough, or will she get cranky halfway through the activity and we’ll have to scurry home?

We used to go out every weekend. Every. Single. Weekend. Dinner, movie, drinks at my brother-in-law’s house. Sometimes, we would go out Friday night AND Saturday night. Don’t get me wrong, we still do go out and do things. It’s just that the Friday nights that I’ve known my entire adult life don’t exist in my world anymore. They’re new, they’re different, and my old Fridays feel like they were lived by a different person in a different life.

Sometimes I feel as though I’m on another planet; when I see teenagers laughing at the mall or a group of single women strutting confidently down the street and heading into a bar I feel so detached from these people it’s ridiculous. I feel as though I’m a scientist observing some wild and exotic species that’s a mystery to mankind.

I’m not saying that I am sad to lose my old Fridays.. It’s just that sometimes, I am still taken aback at the surreality of being a mom. How much these little people change every single aspect of your life.

Not bad. Just different.

P.S. Did anyone figure out why BW3 is called BW3? It’s gonna drive me insane now. Sigh.