I'm used to juggling lots of activities; in high school and college I was always the "involved" sort. These days I'm still juggling, but most of my activities are family-related, from cooking to cleaning to changing diapers.
And as my focus has shifted to the "home front" over the last few years, I find that I've become a bit of a hermit. Not in the hide out in a cabin in the woods, grow a long beard, and avoid all human interaction sense. I'm too much of a city girl to live in the woods; my beard-growing skills leave much to be desired; and I do genuinely like people. But more in the "Do I REALLY have to leave the house today, knowing getting two kids in and out of the car is a pain and knowing I'll have trouble getting everything done at home?" sense.
I'm in the second year of my thirties now, and as I get older I find I become less tolerant of disorganization and mess. I take comfort in structure and an uncluttered home. Now, I'm not actually that great at achieving this level of comfort, but at least it's easier when I have lots of time at home. On days when I leave, whether it's to go grocery shopping or attend a playdate, there's an extra level of stress on my day. I'm more likely to go to bed with dishes in the sink, which messes up the next day too.
So I find myself connecting more online than in person, slipping into hermit mode in between church commitments.
Then I also find myself feeling sad that I don't have the depth of friendships I desire.
Hmm.... There might be a connection here. Maybe if I got out of hermit mode, I'd have deeper friendships. I might cause myself a little more stress on the home front, but with closer friends I'd have a better support system to help me through the stressful days.
So if you're one of my '"real-life" friends who's been saying, "We should really get together," keep asking, and make sure we nail down a date. I may not turn into a social butterfly, but I'm going to try to change my hermit ways before I find myself searching for a cabin in the woods and putting Rogaine on my hairless chin.