What I miss most about being married

I was fool enough to wonder what my top five things I miss about being married were. Some days there is nothing I miss. Other days I wallow.

And, when chatting to a friend last weekend, who was in the midst of preparation for one of the wonderful dinner parties she has, it hit me that I miss being invited to dinner parties. You know those sit down affairs with a planned menu, perhaps even a theme, an excuse to get dressed up and bring the good wine. Maybe it's only this wonderful friend of mine who hosts parties like this anymore. Parties where the invitation list is inadvertently made up of couples. It's much easier to sit a nice round number of people. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Perhaps I am destined to attend barbecues where I bring my own plate for one. Or casual neighbourhood gatherings where people know I am the woman who mows my own lawn. So to speak.

But what else do I miss.

I miss having help

Please excuse my posts about how much i might knock over on a Saturday. Those days where I ferry the kids about, mow the lawn, fix the watering system, do 17 loads of washing, bake delicious muffins for next week's lunch boxes, get a walk in, and paint the house. I'm not exaggerating. Okay, maybe I am. Maybe the muffins aren't that delicious. But household chores were halved when there was two of you. I love it that I can now mow my lawn in any direction I want, that I get to decide what flavour muffins might be best. That I'm learning about things about the house I never thought possible. Who knew toilets had so many moving parts. Who knew I'd actually look forward to going to Bunnings. There's so much to do.

I'm eternally grateful to all my friends who are helping out. Those who have expertise in certain areas. The garden, the pool, the plumbing, electrical. Thank you for your advice and occasional labour. I don't know what I'd do without you. You lot have become my help.

I miss being in the passenger seat

Literally and figuratively. Ignoring the dream I had a few weeks ago about being behind the wheel when the lights went out. I'm steering the ship now. And sometimes that scares the bejeebers out of me. It was nice to believe, when married, that whoever was driving was going to get you to where you thought you were headed, or at least in the vicinity. I have no idea where this journey is headed now.

But even not being philosophical about it all. Sometimes it was nice not to drive. To fight over who might drive to parties and not back again after a wine or three. To be the one in the passenger seat passing food back to the kids, making sure the music selection was okay, alerting everyone to points of interest along the way.

I miss having someone just wake up and say let me drive you to the coast today so we can dip our toes in the ocean.

I miss cooking for adults

There are days when I look at a recipe and I know it's not worth the effort for the kids. Don't get me wrong, I love cooking for my kids. Indeed my daughter's conversion to vegetarianism has expanded my repertoire greatly. But - see mention of dinner parties above - there's nothing I love more than a spread of half-fancy bits. Or the idea of sitting down for some conversation, a wine you've bothered to match, and something delicious to eat. Heck, even sharing a takeaway pizza with someone who remembers Family Ties.

I miss the idea that someone might be thinking about me

A text at 2pm asking how your day has been. A hug at the kitchen bench when you're visibly upset about something. The delivery of a book they saw and thought you might like. Dinner on a Sunday when you've been out playing hockey all weekend. A shhushh of the kids on a Saturday morning because you might like a sleep in. A backrub without even having to ask.

But even more than that.

It's the idea that days might pass where no one thinks about me. I miss being in someone's head. And their heart.