Time to Keep On Truckin'

I’m beginning to be convinced that in certain instances drastic measures do indeed need to be taken in order to change your fate…not that it doesn’t hurt significantly. I’m not exactly proficient at letting go, however, if pain is necessary to feel true pleasure then letting go is part of the package. Some of us don’t come from ideal backgrounds or anywhere within sight of ideal and sometimes the best thing you can do to beat the odds is to become unpredictable. Sometimes you have to clean house and then choose with great thought what and who you will decorate your life with. I vow to stop living in the past, whether consciously or subconsciously (no more reoccurring nightmares please), and to embrace the present moment with a positive future always on the horizon. I still want to try to make amends with past mistakes and to redeem myself in whatever ways I can.  I want to try hard to be a good friend to at least one person (more if I can learn to multi-task better).  I want to try to clean my house a little more so my chi can flow more easily.  I want to accept my husband for who he is and who he is not and stop relying on him to provide for my every need.  I want to do brave things so that I will become braver. I want to continue to work out more so that I will feel more confident (and maybe attempt a bikini in the spring). I want to work hard in college so that I develop my interests and hidden talents; so that I can act wisely and thoughtfully in the world. I want to ensure that I tend to my children’s needs better; that I provide them with a rich existence and plenty of opportunity to develop their own interests and talents.  These things can’t happen unless I continue disciplining myself to keep filtering out the destructive forces, choosing the supportive forces and recognizing the good that’s already here. I will become strong if I practice being strong.

On Not Being 20.

I am obsessing about my looks for the first time in my whole life. Yeah sure, all along I’ve been mildly concerned as the majority of female human beings are, but I was never sick over it. I’m not exactly sick over it now, but there are definitely increasing levels of anxiety and plain shock over my aging looks. I can deal with the gray hair. In fact I loved the gray hair…that was until it was paired with tiny, yet obvious wrinkles and ever-so-slightly sagging skin. This is sooooo not fair. Just when I begin to feel like I’ve got my feet on solid ground, something else creeps in to challenge my self-esteem.  On the brighter side, all the walking in D.C. resulted in a few pounds being dropped according to the Publix scale that still strangely exists in the foyer of most of their grocery stores. Why the hell is that thing there anyways? Don’t they want you to buy more food so that they can make more money? Because let me tell you, when I get on that scale, I’m never thinking “Alright! Time to load up on some more of that delicious Publix Premium Ice Cream!”  Even when I miraculously do end up weighing just a few pounds less than the week prior (because without fail, I weigh myself each and every time I’m there), I just think “Okay, so how can I get that number to go down even more?” I don’t know, maybe diet food is more expensive and that’s their logic.

            When I was in my late twenties, I was going through a metamorphosis and eagerly awaiting my thirties. I wanted to be a full grown adult. I didn’t want to be lumped into the reckless, immature, binge-drinking, superficial Peter Pans that I’d always associated with as a young person (a few specific individuals aside). But now, the old lady syndrome is really making me rethink this whole grown-up thing. Is it crazy that at 31 I’m already wanting to “turn back the clock”? I’m not proud that I have recently begun to wish for Botox and various nips and tucks, but it’s true. In Savannah, I looked around at all the cool art school kids and could no longer ignore the reality that I’ve done everything ass-backwards and thought about how awkward I feel at school amongst a sea of 20 year olds, how I can’t go back and do things differently, how I have to figure out a way to bridge my role as a 31 year old, married, homeschooling mom of 3 with the me that only now has the opportunity to blossom and emerge.  I sense more awkward stumbling ahead. Maybe only a few embarrassing outings and strangely fitting fashion ensembles will suffice… if I’m lucky.

A New Limbo

Trying to find my footing between fun and responsibility, between old friends and new friends, between what’s right and what’s wrong. I love my kids. I even like taking care of people from time to time. I like the way we live our life as a family. I couldn’t have found a better match or a better person than the man I married. I’m proud of certain personal accomplishments I’ve had over the past couple of years. However, there are some things that are not quite right that I know can mostly be worked out. It’s just that at this point, not having the slightest clue as to what it looks like over this hump feels like I have sand in my pants or that I’m wearing a wool sweater 24/7. Let’s just say, it’s uncomfortable. Here’s what I wish: I wish I had a good relationship with my parents. I wish my mom wasn’t so controlling and angry. I wish my dad cared more than he does. I wish I was able to remember more often that I can only change myself and not others. I wish that I had more love in my life. I wish I had more grown-up fun in my life. Jeff said something funny to me the other day and it really put things into perspective, at least at that moment. He said something like…”Let’s assume for a minute that there is a God. And if there is, he’s throwing his hands up in the air saying ‘Hey, you guys wanted some company, so I set up you up with your perfect match and now you’re telling me it’s not enough? Now you want more friends?’ I laughed so hard because it’s true!  But we’ve determined that we do need friends, at least a few. I want to be able to do fun things with friends again. I want a friend that I have chemistry with. I want a friend that wants to do more than just sit around and drink cocktails. I mean, don't get me wrong, I wish I could afford a six pack right now but that's not all I want to do. So far I found one. She fits the bill quite well. I didn’t even see her coming either. On the other hand, there are people in my past that I would like to reconnect with but I don’t know if that ever works. Either they aren’t interested anymore or we just don’t have enough in common to make a new connection. I also don’t want Jeff to think that I’m going to regress into the immature, selfish, self-destructive state that I was in before we hooked up if I hang out with some old crew. I don’t want that either. I guess I kinda want something in between. But what the hell does that look like? Ugh! Hey you, could you just hold this thread as I walk away? Thanks buddy. And when the time is right, I’m ready to be pro-active in the world. I want to carve out a fucking name for myself. Make my mark, ya know what I mean? I don’t want to just be this kid’s mom or this professor’s wife or somebody’s crazy ex-girlfriend/sister/daughter. You get it, I’m sure. I suppose most of all, I just need more hours in the day. More hours to be, do, and reflect.