Wednesday, May 18, 2005

meds, meds, meds

So I'm trying a new thing-- blogging from work. It's the most lovely part of the preschool day-- naptime! It's the only time of the day that I don't have a clinging fourandahalf year old whining MOMMY... I WANT MY TURN... I HATE YOU... and a number of other catchphrases at me. The medications route is so unsure, so difficult to manage and understand. Each day is a new adventure, not sure where the bumps in the road will crop up. Today it was as simple as not getting a turn. Oh, the drama. Do I sound so embittered and discompassioned (or is it uncompassionate?)? I love him. More than could ever be expressed in verbal or written form. But it has come to a point that I just need for him to get it together. And soon before I lose it. Ugh. Now it's my turn to whine. hee hee.

Three hours to go until the end of the day. Please go quickly!

Saturday, May 14, 2005


this book i just finished talked about the soul. what does it mean that my 29-year old self cannot understand or find my soul. simple case of not knowing it. what makes me me? what do I mean? there's that machine that beeps in the hospital to represent a person's heartbeat- showing the mountain peaks of energy flowing through the body. My life, my energy is more like a long, never-ending flat plane. Just a constant hum sound and one long, thin red line. I want the peaks, the valleys, my soul needs to find itself among those jagged lines. where can a soul exist in the constancy of a flat line? where or how does one go about finding her soul? I honestly want to make a change. to be there for my family, for my husband. but in all that fruitless wanting, there is inaction. not out of fear, not out of disconcern. out of not knowing where to start. no easy arrow that points to the starting line, with a curved, s-shaped path of colored squares marking the trail. just point me to the starting line, and I'll make my way along the path. the path that leads to knowing who i am. who i want to be. i want to feel alive, to physically feel the blood coursing through my veins, to know that my synapses are firing, sparking new ideas, new experiences, feeling. maybe not just new, but familiar too. feel familiar in a new way- alive. where is the soul? where is my soul? how desperately I need and want to reclaim it. Proclaim to the world- this is me. this is who i am. Proclaim it to my husband- have him take me in, accept me. proclaim it to my son- have him grow up with a vision of who his mom truly is. do i put this on my to-do list? get ingrown toenail operated on, enroll in driving school, read 100 languages of children, discover soul and grow it, like a packet of impatiens seeds in a pot, tenderly watering it and speaking to it in a hushed, private tone.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

tired of Mommy

In this post-modern world where mothers are expected to be everything to their children, it has become sacrilegious to be resentful of any part of your role as a mom. You need to be present in your child's life, always mindful of how anything you do or say will affect his burgeoning self-esteem. At the same time, you need to be a good keeper of the home. Add to that you should be sexually appealing and always at the ready.

You know what I am? Tired of 'mommy.' I hear "Mommy!" all the live long freakin day. Yes, it's not common to be a preschool teacher with your child in your class, but it isn't unheard of to be with your child for great stretches of time every day. I just don't know that I'm cut out for this. Inside my head I'm screaming, "Shut up!! No mommy here!!! NO MOMMY!" I find myself constantly overwhelmed with the upkeep of my home and the requirements of my career. I'm never enough to any one thing, but I'm not-quite-enough for a whole lot of things. And sex? Oh, I don't know where that went. I feel like a big old blob and about as sexy a being as a slug.

Am I alone? Impossible. But how to make things better? Not sure anyone has that answer.