For me, walking into a room full of people when I'm mentally prepared takes energy. Walking into a room full of people when I'm not mentally prepared takes a lot of energy. Walking into a room full of people singing karaoke when I'm not mentally prepared? Takes a blood transfusion. And possibly a kidney transplant.
The boys were at a playdate today that turned into a sleepover, and when I went to drop off their pajamas and toothbrushes and kiss them goodnight, I walked in on a family karaoke party going full throttle. Gus, Patrick, their two friends, the friends' father, their mother, theirmother's mother, her father, her sister, her sister's friend, two kittens, and a shivering chihuahua were assembled in the living room with two microphones and sexy dance lyrics scrolling across a wide screen TV.
They were all, HI!
And I was all, HI DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY FACE.
Now granted. I know these people. I love these people. But hell if I'm going to throw down my purse and sing "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen for these people.
I can feel all the outgoing extrovert karaoke lovers thinking, jeez. Poor Amanda. She's so uptight. So self conscious. Why can't she just relax and have fun?
I've asked myself that question for years. Felt guilty about all the fun I wasn't having FOR YEARS. But it's a new year. And it just occurred to me to ask a new question:
Who gets to decide what "fun" is?
I mean, if we're going to determine whether I know how to relax and have fun--shouldn't I have some say in what "fun" is?
Having a quiet dinner with my husband? Fun.
Getting to see my boys after a long day before they spend the night with a friend? Fun.
Seeing the disappointment in my oldest son's face when I refuse to sing a duet in the middle of his friend's living room? NOT FUN.
But still more fun than singing Karaoke.