I don’t want to sound all superior, but I wanted to state, on record, that I do talk to walls. Lessons in futility, that thing about insanity being the action of doing the same thing over again, expecting different results, etc. My wheels doth spin, and its frustrating, so I’m done.
You’re done being vague?
Hell, no. I want to be able to look back on this in the years to come and be like the rest of you… “what the hell is she talking about?”
Its Sunday. The future is coming fast, and while I may be a nervous wreck and in need of therapy, something fabulous has come out of the past few days…
I am 27. The Husband (who I may have to start calling, “The Martian”) got some weird super scale that measures all sorts of bizarre things while you stand on it, and it said that my body age is 27. While I see my post-childbirth body differently than I did when I was 27… no, wait, I had already had 2 babies at 27.
Clearly, this is my signal to reclaim my late 20s and act the way I should have acted had I not decided to devote my life to breastfeeding.
But, back to the wall. I fished around the other night for the simple statement of, “yes, you’ve done a great job with the kids,” and didn’t get it. From anyone. I can talk to my friends and they’re all, “you’re a GREAT mom, how do you do it?” and I’m all, “dude, its my thing,” and they’re all, “yeah, you’re awesome,” because that’s what friends do. Co-kid-wrangling figures… not so much. But, whatever, I’m not bitter.
The Martian and I went to therapy the other day, in order to discuss civilly how to break the news to the kids that in the next few weeks, he is moving out. Strangely, in that hour, I lost quite a bit of anger. I cried. I cried not for the hurt I’ve felt over my perceived emotional injuries, but when it came down to it, I cried for my kids. Because, no matter what, I put them in this position. My amazing ability to ignore my own needs and just create life out of my uterus comes with a cost – their mental health.
@Michelle Zive – but, they chose me, right? Ugh.
So, really, after the hurt and bitterness fades, and I’m faced with the fact that this family hasn’t worked in a while, its time to talk to a different wall, suck it up, and do what it takes to make sure that the kids are as happy as they can be. I think The Martian is on the same page, even if we’ve not really discussed it, but I’m hopeful.
Its a strange, strange family now. Hopefully, we will get through the holidays and everyone will be happy. 2011 is coming fast – the Year of the Rabbit, and while my Astrology Friend says that its going to be a rough one for me, I can’t help but look back at the last seven years and shake my head. I don’t want to tempt fate and say, “bring it on,” but really… she’s talking to a wall.
Oh, and I’m 27.