Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Lonely day in ma-ma-land.

Have you ever tried to swim in blue jeans? During one of my six summers at a North Florida camp a lifeguard suggested a survival exercise. He instructed the small all-girls advanced swimming class to bring their blue jeans the next day and although we thought he was out of his mind, he was cute and twenty and we were all twelve and well...girls, so we weren't exactly an incredulous audience.

I sat in a line of ten or so girls on the side of the dock on the spring wearing my Bongo blue jeans and Keds sneakers listening to his instructions about using our pants as flotation devices. And on his command, we all stood up, held our noses, and jumped. It was cold. We giggled and squealed and I vividly remember worrying about boogers and how my hair looked (as if the lifeguard wasn't eight years older and wearing a stripe of neon pink Zinc-oxide on down his nose).

I was a heavy bag of cement. And I couldn't move my legs fast enough to keep my head from going under. Nobody close enough to grab onto and nothing to step on for that extra edge up to the surface. It's exactly the same feeling I get when motherhood hands me a crap day.

Because my list of things to do today was excruciatingly mundane, I decided to take a break from the torture of my domestic blues Tuesday to post about...well...my domestic blues. If I am more often shouting from the rooftops that I love being a mother and ever-loving the ups and downs of parenting my five point five year old daughter and still womb-residing son, well today is the antithesis of that proclamation. Bare with me.

Today I am swimming in blue jeans.

I'm impatient and selfish and hating the simplest of requests. Nothing is good enough for long enough to keep my head out of the cold loneliness and I'm just so tired of kicking my legs I could cry (or drown, if you're still caught up in the metaphor). My daughter even reminded me to smile during lunch.

The reality is as simple as this: I feel like all I am is a mother. I don't feel like a woman or a person even. I am simply the one meant to do what it takes to make other I people I live with safe, healthy, happy. On this day I don't enjoy ironing my husband's shirt. (Okay on NO day do I enjoy ironing my husband's shirts.) I don't enjoy cutting the crusts of a baloney sandwich for my daughter who THOUGHT she might enjoy something other than PBJ for once, but changed her mind as soon as the damn sandwich hit the plate. I'm missing my friends. If they're still my friends. Text messaging and facebook entries don't exactly a friendship keep. I miss Jed before he was my husband. When making him happy was as easy as showing up unexpectedly at his doorstep. Today making everyone happy feels like work. I feel like Rosie the robot today instead of Stephanie. Instead of me.

I'm trying to remember that motherhood is fickle. It's laughing until you pee your pants when an ice cream scoop falls out of its cone onto the car seat on one day and crying until you can't see straight when it happens the next. It's the same thing over and over with a new twist now and then to keep you from absolutely losing your mind.

But today it's hard. Harder.

9 comments:

Jens said...

Girl. Tell your hubby to pack up the wagon and head up to J'ville this weekend. We'll play and be UN-motherly. :)

geoff said...

Hey you....
First of all, I felt the same way when I moved here. My family and friends all lived in OH. I felt.....I left my life and moved to FL. All I did was spend day in and ought cleaning, dishes, clothes, taking care of my kiddo and husband. Then I joined the moma group.....
It changed my life..I AM NOT BEING DRAMATIC...It did... in so many ways....I met some of the most amazing women there. They are my family. We have mom night out and have margaritas, we get the kids together and have some adult conversation. We spend three to four days together a week. I love them. It helps with the loneliness. They are going through the same things......You get great advice, it is a place to vent, and just laugh until you cry...
Call me and you can join me anytime.
407 574 2111

Keep your head up....

Miranda said...

By the way...I realized I am signed in under my husband..
It is Miranda

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

I would love a sisterly saturday. let me see what kind of magic i can work....

mary said...

I completely identify with this... except for the ironing part. You deserve a gold medal for ironing in my book.

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

Ironing is the worst. And when JG pulled out a pair of pants I ironed yesterday and said, "i need to iron these," my head spun 360 and I puked green pea soup.
Seriously. Ask him.

Mme Paulita said...

*hugs*

You know I am hear to vent...and yu know I've told you about my mom group who kicks ass...if it wasn't for them I would have NOBODY!!!

When I got together with my husband 7 years ago I was used to going out all the time..everybody knowing my name....

then they all dissapeared...dipshits

The Panic Room said...

hi :) you have friends

Lawton said...

I'm really starting to like you buddy. Check out the remedies I just posted. There's one for every mommy!