House Arrest and Such

It is funny how being advised to stay at home and away from crowds changes everything. Almost all day I wish we could go into town and do fun little toddler and baby things. Catch the toddler or baby support group. Sign up for a music or swimming class. Attend reading time at the library. Grocery shop without trying to run through the store so Hannah won't be exposed to some random germ floating around. Or shop during normal hours so I don't have to wait until Ben can stay with the girls. But then when I get the chance to get into town and run errands, everything is different. I feel like visitor in my own town. The fronts of buildings changes, old ones are demolished or new stores appear. I feel like I should scuttle from shadow to shadow, like a vampire out in the day. If I dart around then maybe I won't feel guilty for breaking the baby in the bubble rule? What if I run into someone who knows we shouldn't be out. Gasp. The horror. I avoid making eye contact with anyone for the fear of casual conversation. I feel like I have nothing to offer a conversation that doesn't involve dragging one of my kids into it. It isn't that I don't like talking about my girls. It is just that I don't have anything else to really talk about. Seen that new movie? Nope. Tried that new restaurant? Nope. Not only that, but being surrounded my so many people now makes me a little twitching for lack of a better word. And not to mention that when did everyone in town feel the need to move a million miles a minute? I feel like if I slow down in the cereal aisle, I'll get plowed down by the lady needing to get to her Extra Fiber Cereal. Or if I put on my turn signal, chances are that at least one person will try to zip in front, even though they are headed to the same lane I am. Am I really the country mouse in the big city? Do I appear as awkward and alone as I feel? I hope not. But in some strange way, I'm okay with that.