I got big plans...

For pretty much everything in my life, I have a plan.

We're in the throes of the home-buying process. To ease my anxiety over a series of events I have no control over, I lie awake at night thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong. Then I think up a back-up plan for that scenario. Then I think up a back-up for my back-up. It never helps me sleep. It barely even makes me feel better. But that's what I do.

My career plans and directions are always in the back of my head. What I want to do. How long it will take me to do it. What it will take to get it all accomplished.

My plans for the current week are kicking around in there too. Bills due, chores needing to be done, cooking and baking to complete, commitments I've made.

Gardening and sustainable living plans have been at the forefront of my mind lately, as well. What I'll plant, how much, where, when (all complicated by the simple fact we don't know where we'll be living next month). I take pride in my abilities as a planner and multi-tasker. I'm good at it. I keep lots of plates spinning at once without letting them fall and shatter.

It seems like more and more lately, I've been taking a step back to admire all my spinning plates. I give myself a pat on the back for a job well done. No disasters. No crises. No broken plates. Everything's moving along nicely and I'm doing my best to be patient at the things I can't control and let the universe work itself out. However, upon taking that reflective step away from the wonderful chaos that is my life, I realize there's an aching emptiness in my heart. This sounds absurd, I'm aware. I have an incredibly fulfilled life. I have a husband who grows more awesome with every passing year. I have a daughter who I couldn't love more as she grows up into an amazing little lady. My cat is simultaneously the bane of my existence and the dearest little animal there is. We have a house, good food, a great family. I am in a career field I love and feel blessed to be a part of. The emptiness I feel is purely selfish on my part.

Before Lilah, I had this awesome group of friends. Classmates and coworkers, I had a different activity and friend for every day of the week. After a long shift at Red Lobster, I'd go out with the best, most drama-free servers I've ever met. We didn't party or get crazy. We went to Fridays for 4 dollar appetizers, talking and laughing until we were almost too tired to drive home. At school, I had a tight-knit group of no-nonsense girls. We were in it for the piece of paper and actively shunned the nonsense that went with a class of mostly females. The instructors loved us for saying what they couldn't to our ridiculous classmates. I can't think of a single area of my life where I didn't have something to look forward to. Home was a place of rest and relaxation with my husband and the occasional friend who stopped by. It was a much-needed contrast to our crazy schedules and busy social calendars. And I was thriving that way. I build my home as a sanctuary, and this is still how I operate.

The problem is, we made choices no one else made. We got married (too) young. We started careers. We (accidentally) started a family. Instead of doing whatever made us happy, it almost seemed like our choices were being made for us by the path we chose (and are still so happy with). But nights like tonight, when I'm sitting at home alone, I'm painfully aware of the world around me. While my baby girl sleeps soundly and my husband is at class, I'm alone on my couch. Every time I log into Facebook, I just get one more reminder of which friend of mine is doing something awesome tonight. Who's going out for drinks. Who's got big shopping plans. Who's going to the casino. Who has a vacation planned. Bonfires. Bike-rides. Hikes. Adventures. Concerts. Movies.

I spend my spare time planning crafts and activities to engage a toddler-brain. I love it. It's just the almost 25-year old in me tonight that's crying selfishly. She's the one who wants peers again. I just want a handful of couples who know what it's like to live for your family and their happiness and don't mind that some days you don't get to shower or look cute or have new clothes. Sometimes all your scrubs and shoes have holes in them because groceries matter more, even if snotty girls at work make comments about not wearing old shoes so much. Sometimes planning a great dinner your family is excited about is all you have to look forward to at the end of the day, and it's still enough to light you up after a stressful time at work. Sometimes you realize with a start that at almost 5 years of marriage, you've still never once been on a vacation with your spouse because you hit the ground running as a couple and have just never stopped. None of our friends understand that. They awesomely make concessions for us. They come over here, knowing we can't go out. They invite us out individually so we can still be social if we "take turns". But none of them get it. I work with nurses in their 50s and 60s, or MAs who are single and happy that way. Dano goes to school with mostly 18 year olds who are fresh out of high school and don't care. Where do you go to meet people you have something in common with at this stage of our lives? Basically, you don't. You deal with it. And you have the occasional bad night in a mostly awesome life, because you know you wouldn't do anything differently even if you had the chance.