The task today was simple- Cook the kids breakfast, eggs in tortillas. Pack the lunches. Take the kids to school, write a little, pick up the kids, get milk at the store, replace the missing small frying pan, help with homework task; writing proverbs, “we need to write proverbs.” My daughter says-“it’s too hard.” “Huh?” I say, not looking at her. My thirteen year old just asked me for help? My body freezes and my head lifts up from my desk. That’s a first. Are you listening mom? ” They never ask for my help. Why when I am feeling delicate, ill matched with the job, more reclusive in my thoughts that usual, ,whey when the only ephihany for me today was, A mom on some days is translated as superhuman, miraculous, overqualified for the job, do today I translate as: “a middle aged nothing,” why when I happily distracted by doing random google search: “celebrities that are sober? She asks me now? Why? I don’t have it to bring? Oh yeah, I am a mother. This response “Oh honey, I am fresh out of proverbs” or “I feel strangely alone.” Is simply not allowed. Instead I shake like a wet dog trying to rid my melancholy. Wow, Bradley Cooper and Eva Mendes, sober Coooooool!” Yes, proverbs on courage, wow really? Okay. Well timed, I think.. I could use a whole list of proverbs on courage, I love proverbs. I stop and google proverbs. ” a pithy and short saying that is a profound statement of advice. Hmmm. I write one down “be sure and check in regularly with your feelings so as to avoid growing fangs? Yes. God, I am just not good at anything today. I am just a chauffeur a chef, a punching bag… I feel the fresh wounds of change. Mainly since that helicopter with the Obama’s in it flew away.
My daughters expression says so much. “I don’t think I handled today very well.” Yeah I mean, a mom shouldn’t yell at a kid. Shit. I mean, I didn’t? I am so disgruntled inside I’m pretty sure, I didn’t take those pills for my “affliction.” I sure didn’t take my calcium or I might be calm? She’s right, I may have even yelled at the girl we carpool with I mean, did I really call her ungrateful? Ugggh. How do I peel off the sweaty boxing gloves and put on the glittery fairy wings now?
“I am sorry Greta.” I say out loud. (I am practicing without the use of her real name.) I should never have roped you into the ungrateful boat. “I messed up and I’m sorry.” Maybe next time, I just tell the kids I’m feeling sensitive? My mom armor is in the shop getting shined? The thing is, words are out there forever. And when I say and do the wrong thing It answers that question so many moms have so often Do I really exist or am I invisible? So, Less coffee, more self care, more asking for compliments. Perfect, I have a plan. I’ll start tomorrow. I will turn the light on when I choose a pair of underwear even, land it properly on my butt, not inside out, like my heart lately.