Devra and I are often asked about guilt parents feel over preferring to do certain activities with one child while siblings are left behind. We assure parents it doesn’t indicate you love one child more than another, it simply means different kids have fun doing different things. For example, I love to see intellectual films with one daughter and completely ridiculous chic flicks with my other daughter. I take my son out bowling – just the 2 of us.  Dev and I liken it to enjoying different activities with grown up friends. I’ll go to karaoke night with one group (my theater friends, of course), grab beers at a sports bar after soccer or softball (don’t worry, my husband’s team, not mine) with another group, gather with my Ladies Who Lunch bunch once a month, meet a friend for lunch on a moments notice, or plop myself down on the couch after everyone else has gone to sleep and watch TV with a glass of red wine and a scoop of chocolate ice cream. What happens though, when guilt creeps its way into that grown up fun ? You know, those moments sometimes referred to as “guilty pleasures.” Now, be careful what you’re thinking… I’m inclined to believe we may be going different directions on this one.

Those of you who have been following us over the years probably recall my shock and disgust when the publishing company informed us our working title for Mommy Guilt, Parent with Pleasure, would be associated with incest. And others may have laughed out loud with us when we revealed an error in our galleys that read Guilt-Free Pleasure: Ime with your spouse, instead of Guilt-Free Pleasure: Time with your spouse. As the years have rolled along, I have often wondered why the word pleasure conjures up such often dis-pleasurable thoughts. So, like we did in our book, I went to the dictionary for some help.

According to Merriam-Webster, guilty is defined as justly chargeable with or responsible for a usually grave breach of conduct or a crime. Moving on, pleasure: a state of gratification (funny side note, an add for Ghirardelli chocolate popped up when I entered this) ; guilty pleasure (yes, it’s really there and no Ghirardelli this time): something pleasurable that induces a usually minor feeling of guilt. Now, I don’t know about you but I was taught it is not proper to define a word or phrase using part of the word or phrase in the definition. Given that’s the case, I would suggest this as a more accurate definition. Guilty pleasure: a state of gratification justly chargeable with or responsible for a usually grave breach of conduct or a crime.

Let’s go back to those grown up pleasures and see which of them are worthy of the “guilty” part. Feel free to change the details here to best fit your personal situations, I went with things I could write about but the big picture should be the same.

Going out with friends who enjoy some of the crazy things you enjoy, even if your S.O. or members of your family can’t stand those things and have no real connections with those friends. First of all, I’ll tell you I don’t enjoy performing karaoke. I do, however, love to watch and really love any excuse to hang out with this wacky bunch of friends. None of us commit any crimes while at the bar and we all make sure each driver is sober before departing.

Karaoke night with friends, without spouse, partner, or kids – NOT GUILTY PLEASURE.

Going out with my husband to hang with his friends after a game or my husband going out after a game to hang with his friends without me. Of course, no husband required – any partner will do, I just happen to need one in this case because anyone who knows me also knows I do NOT do ball sports (I used to say the closest I came was the fitness ball but I don’t even like that thing). Depending on what time it’s at and whether or not it’s a school night, one or more of our kids may join in, or not. Again, no crimes committed while out and as responsible adults, we make sure no one drives after drinking.

Partner out with friends  with or without me, with or without kids – NOT GUILTY PLEASURE.

Going out on a regularly scheduled monthly lunch with my lady friends. No boys allowed! It’s our girl time together. We may decide to complain about our families while there or we may never even mention them. We never dine and dash!

Monthly ladies lunch out – NOT GUILTY PLEASURE.

Enjoying lunch, a drink, or just some unplanned time out with a friend of the opposite sex (or not). I don’t know why this one seems to be such a big deal for some people. I have always gotten along with guys better than gals, so there are many things I would rather discuss with a guy than with another gal. And sometimes, I don’t feel like discussing those things with my husband. Does it mean I love my husband any less? I don’t see why it should be seen that way. Maybe I want to talk about something that would bore him to tears or eat at a restaurant he can’t stand. Why should I torture him when I have another friend I can be with?

Last minute lunch (or drink, or coffee) with friend of the opposite sex – NOT GUILTY PLEASURE.

I love chocolate! Anyone who knows me, knows this. I have developed a great fondness for good red wine. Pair these two unmistakable pleasures up and I am one happy lady. Let me have them both while I’m all alone doing whatever I want to do and I’m darn near giddy with pleasure.  I see no reason to force people away from me in order to get this. I simply take it when the opportunity avails itself to me.

An evening alone with red wine and chocolate – NOT GUILTY PLEASURE.

This post is already far too long but I have to put in one last thing. Just as we suggest a guilt-o-meter check with parenting choices, the same holds true with your grown up fun. Guilt serves a purpose as a check and balance so when it starts to play in your head, tune in the channel and get rid of the static – be honest about what you are doing, how you are going about it and the affect it has on those you care about. When all of that is clear then you can decide if you should listen up or turn it off and enjoy your pleasures.

That being said, I believe I hear a piece of dark chocolate calling me… by name!