I don’t know if it’s because I’ve just come off of a hard week or because it’s feeling like Spring time but all I want to do is run away.
I don’t want special time alone with Mr. I Don’t Have Anything To Talk About and I don’t want to spend it with The I Can’t Stop Talking Kids. I don’t even know that I want to go with a friend. I want to get off of this continent and have an adventure that is all my own. Not like an Eat, Pray, Love thing. It would not be for soul-searching. I just want to go and have fun my way and in my time. I cry because I want this so bad!
I have no motivation to tend to my house and laundry because it’s the most fruitless career EVER. I clean the kitchen only to dirty it up again when I make my family a meal.
But you are blessed to have such a family.
I sweep, swiffer and mop the floors only to have dirt tracked in with in a few minutes of getting it cleaned by a pet, a child, a spouse, or myself.
Do you know how many people only dream of living in a mountain house off of a dirt road?
I do laundry. Load after load after load but it never goes away. The people I’m taking care of insist on wearing clothes. Everyday!
Really, Michal! You put the clothes in a machine with some soap, turn it on and walk away. An hour later you take the clean clothes out and put it in another machine that does your work for you. An hour later you fold them.
This is true. This is true of most house work nowadays but what is so aggravating is the way that it’s never done. It never lasts. I have NO PRODUCT!
I want to get away from my spouse and kids and they are at school and work all day. I have the time right now to sit and write this blog. There are no interruptions. No noise. So what’s my freaking problem?
Then I cry again because having these thoughts are unacceptable, bratty and ungrateful.
I make sure to make time for myself. This morning I ran. I am taking a tap class. I audition for shows. I am in chorale. Lot’s of “me stuff.” I remember laughing to myself at women that would tell me to make time for myself when I was caring for young babies.
A. There was no time.
B. I was very secure in myself and my purpose as a mother. (Though I was still an uneducated ninny, I did manage to make some pretty cute babies and I would help them to become independent of me and become men.)
I think now that I am parenting kids that are in school I feel less important. Life could go on for my family with out me. Other people would teach them. They are old enough to make their own meals. There would be a few hiccups but there are families everywhere who are happy and succesful with one parent at the helm.
That’s a silly thought too. Most single parents would tell you that they would rather have the help of another parent. So that’s it. I’m the help.
That’s enough. No more cry baby crap. I need to be counting my many, many blessings and get to work. I just really wish my job required me to travel…