I hate the night-life

Last night my brother mentioned how little Craig and I go out. He's right (although his standards as an under-30 rock musician are different than mine). I ventured, "Yes, well, we do have a baby," and Joel gave me a kindly be honest with yourself, sister! look. Again he is right: our night-life hasn't been active for several years, long before Isaac's birth. The final nail in the coffin may have been the night in 2002 when we blew off our tickets to see Neko Case because we were too tired -- and felt nothing but relief.

Anyway, even if Isaac wasn't the original reason we stopped going out, I think having a baby is a perfectly adequate reason to stay home in the evening. Young Izzy doesn't cooperate with my sleeping in, so any late night results in an exhausted day. And staying up late isn't appealing when you're already living at the cutting edge of fatigue, and have been for a solid year. Plus I am up for at least one hour in the middle of every single night for what Girl's Gone Child amusingly calls "the NEW & IMPROVED titty-flashing all-nighter."

It was when Joel implied I was content to stay at home all the time that I had to disagree. Yes, I am self-contained happy homebody -- I easily entertain myself as a gardener, a reader, a blogger, a household putterer, and a daydreamer -- but I do get out sometimes. Here's a recap of last week:

• Monday: playgroup
  
• Tuesday: Kindermusik music class
• Wednesday: picnic at the botanical garden with a friend and her two kids
• Thursday: playdate at a friend's house with her son
• Friday: work at the library
  

It makes me a little tired just thinking about it. I think I'll go to bed early tonight.