I just want to do hoodrat stuff with my friends

What happens when I don't go to Disney for a week.

Hey bitches,

I’ve spent most of this week indoors, only stepping outside for necessities like errands, walks, and yoga. This is the first week since June that I haven’t gone to Disney, and it’s got me thinking that most Americans spend their weeks like this, not leaving their homes for days at a time. It’s like, unless you live in a major city and work in an office, you spend most of your time working from the couch, wearing stained sweatpants and a faded t-shirt you got from a bachelorette party.

In my twenties, I was out four to six nights a week. After work, nearly every night, I’d grab dinner or drinks with friends. But socializing in your mid-thirties is a strange thing. You either have kids and your life revolves around their sleep, school, and activity schedules, or, if you’re like me, you don’t have kids yet but everyone around you does. Social gatherings are less let’s get a drink tonight and more the baby goes to bed by 7:30, so we have to start our bedtime routine at 6:30, which means I’m only free until 6.

My early thirties, COVID, and my move to Florida collided, so for a while I couldn’t pinpoint why my social life turned bland. Pre-pandemic I saw my girlfriends every week, but when we emerged from the depths of Netflix binges and banana bread mayhem, things started to rapidly change. Someone’s been pregnant every year since, and the friend group has grown by eight babies. Moving away didn’t help the situation, but I suspect my social life would’ve changed regardless of distance.

I blame the lack of third spaces and this country’s obsession with kid-centric activities. How I yearn for British pub culture in America. Imagine living in a village where you can pop into the pub on your way home from work, or with your baby to meet your friends for an hour before bedtime. No militaristic planning or Google calendars necessary.

The lack of spontaneity is what scares me the most about becoming a mother one day. The naptimes, the meal planning, the extracurriculars. The thought of spending my weekends on a soccer field or at dance competitions makes me want to off myself. And sleep training? We have to train kids? To sleep?!

I’m 77 days away from my 35th birthday and can hear my ovaries screaming at me, Bitch, what are you waiting for? To take one more trip. To finally get in shape. To learn to speak Italian. To enjoy the alone time with my husband while I still can. Because I’ve heard it’s all over when a kid comes along.

Or is it? Maybe I’m a victim of motherhood fear mongering, this collective idea that life is over when you have children. That being a mom means putting everything else in your life on hold indefinitely. But when I tune out the noise and consider what motherhood might look like on my terms, it’s not so bad. Traveling the world. Dance parties in the kitchen. Magic Kingdom fireworks on Friday nights.

Joe and I finally having our third musketeer, because propaganda I’m not falling for? Having more than one. And I know this sounds delusional to most people with children. You’ll see when you have kids. But I think the key to life going your way is being delusional.

I don’t do anything by the book now, so why would I start when I have a kid?

Love ya,
Kristina

If you’re not stalking me yet, what are you even doing? Find me on Instagram @kristina_nasti and TikTok @kristina_nasti