So I went to a COMEDY SHOW last night. Yeah, you read that right. I left the house! To be in public, and socialize with grown-ups!

This is a very big deal. I didn't realize until recently that I was going a little stir-crazy, until a couple of weeks ago I went to an impromptu work dinner with our sales team. It was only a few blocks from my house, so I was able to go, eat, drink, chat, and still be back in time to put the boys to bed. And it felt AMAZING. There I was - in a super-swanky Beverly Hills restaurant, eating on the company's dime, tossing back martinis (okay, one martini) and pounding insanely expensive sushi like it was my last meal. I wore heels and lipstick and brushed my hair and IT WAS GLORIOUS.

Afterwards I realized that it was a wee bit pathetic that I was so excited just to be out in public at night, and that perhaps I should start listening to my husband when he encourages me to get the hell out of the house (he says it much nicer than that). Because I really haven't gone out - not at night, at least, save for the very infrequent date night -for, oh, SINCE CARTER WAS BORN. Maybe I've met up with friends a couple of times in the past two years and eight + months? I can't even remember.

And as sad as that sounds, it never really bothered me, because every single ounce of my energy was totally preoccupied with momming. I went to work, I took care of my boys, I ate, I cleaned, I watched some TV/read magazines, I slept. Rinse and repeat, since September 2009. Sure, I'd see girlfriends for coffee or brunch on the weekends and meet someone for the occasional lunch during the work week. But nighttime? Gasp! People still do that? Huh? Go to dinner, see shows, have conversations amidst the happy noisy burbling of a crowded bar/restaurant?? How is it possible that this world has gone on without me?

I didn't realize that I wanted to get out of the house so badly until it almost didn't happen last night. The comedy show started at eight, and Griffin was resisting bedtime like never before. Finally I looked at the clock - 7:57pm. Even though it was only a few blocks away, I clearly wouldn't be there on time. Apparently something in my brain snapped, because I went into the living room where Max and Carter were sitting together at the computer and yelled at my husband for the first time in our almost-six-year relationship - how I'd missed the show, and I was sure that the doorman wouldn't let me in late, and OHMYGOD I had no idea it was so late WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME, THIS WAS THE ONE NIGHT I WANTED TO DO SOMETHING, THE ONE NIGHT IN OVER TWO YEARS! Max rightfully issued a stern "YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN" and I did, a little, and grabbed my keys and kissed my son goodnight and basically fled the apartment as quickly as possible, hanging my head in shame that Carter witnessed Mommy's mini-meltdown.

And of course I made it to the show. I met up with a girlfriend, a fellow mom. We were on "the list." We were fancy. A friend of ours was performing, and it was all kinds of hilarious. Afterward we waded through the crowd of people in the dark bar area, and I said to her "Look around - they don't know that we have kids! We look just like everyone else."

People were drinking, smoking, flirting and canoodling, and I got to watch it all with new eyes, like some bizarre cultural anthropology study of 30-something Los Angelenos. Huh. This is what people are doing while I am singing Moon River and nursing my baby, while I am reading Make Way For Ducklings and telling my little boy his favorite Mommy story, about the huge magical slide. There I was, in what is now a completely foreign universe, dabbling my toes into the waters of nightlife again. It was strange and intimidating and yet I felt the mild stirrings of something exciting and new - dare I say, balance? A happy, healthy medium of momming and socializing?

I didn't linger. I chatted a bit and then raced home to my boys, apologized to my husband for being an asshole, curled up on the couch down the hall from my sleeping babies, and felt proud. I did it! I WENT OUT. IN PUBLIC. WITH PEOPLE.

As a mother, I am confident, capable - but as a social animal, I need some serious practice. Because it seems that all mom and no friends makes Mommy go CRAAAAAAAAZY. So here goes nothing. The Great Get Your Ass Out of the House and Be Sociable Challenge. Bring it on.