Once upon a time.....isn't that how they always suck you in?
Well this ain't no fairytale. That's for damn sure.
Back when I was younger the only thing that I seemed to want was to be part of a two some. A couple. I probably should have been a twin. That fact would have more than likely resulted in my mother going crazy faster than she actually has.
It seemed from birth I was just one of those individuals that flourished in an environment where I could be with someone else. My mom probably fostered this by allowing me to sleep in her bed until I was a toddler. Then while she was a single parent we almost always shared a room. That continued until I was 11 years old and she married my step-dad. I had my own room for a whole 7 months. Then came my first sister and then my second sister a mere 15 months later. I shared a room with them until I visualized smothering them both in my sleep. My parents realized teenage-dom was upon them and I evicted myself from the co-op bedroom and out to my own space. Sadly it was the front porch. I mean what can you expect when you are living in a 2 bedroom house with 5 people, 2 of which are a screaming baby and toddler respectively.
The "porch" as it was named was actually the standard Florida "sun room". So it was completely enclosed. The stupid part of my move was the fact that my room was the first thing that people saw and had to walk through when they came to my parents house. Let's just say I had the cleanest teenagers room EVER!
It was also one way to insure that your teenage daughter doesn't do anything inappropriate with any boys in her bedroom. There are times that I wish we had this same arrangement now that I have older daughters. But then I take a stroll into their rooms and realize that if we did have that set up we could never have anyone over. They'd never make it through the sea of crap in order to make it into the rest of the house for a visit.
But enough about my bedroom from age 12 to 14 years of age. After the death of my sister Alicia I would go and lay in bed with my baby sister Nicolle in order to soothe her. From the day she was born she had shared a room with both me and Alicia and then just Alicia and now she was alone. So I'd lay with her. Then just a few short years later I had a little one of my own to occupy my bed.
It wasn't just sleeping either. It was life in general. I don't think I was ever meant to be a singleton. At a young age I befriended a neighbor and we became the best of friends. From the age of 3 up until 16, I don't think there is one good memory of my life that doesn't include her. We were like two peas in a pod and I liked it just fine.
After friendships came dating. I always seemed to be happier when I was part of a couple. I'm beginning to see that there is a pattern of confidence issues. So now 12 years into the longest pairing I've had since the birth of my first child I am lost in the fact that we are taught young that every fairytale is all roses and fairies and pumpkins turning into carriages. Outside of the mother's being audibly missing out of almost EVERY Disney story for as long as I can remember just about ever story of falling love has no mention of depression, finances, liars and heartbreak. Yeah they may start out realistic with the orphans and the working in your own home for your evil step-mother but then you are whisked away and have rodents to do your housework. That's a step up in my books. Not reality and yet we eat it up and ask for seconds.
Now I sit pondering the last few years of my life and as I think about the ever changing dimensions of my coupledom I wonder if my inability to stand on my own two feet and worry about what I want and what I need has possibly left me contemplating how a lifetime of being part of a two some has made it next to impossible for me to think of just myself. Alone.
As a mother I can never truly be alone. Hell just trying to pee is a friggin affair. If I don't announce it I will undoubtedly have a knock, a random walk in or an all out search and rescue mounted if I don't answer when yelled to from another room. I'm in the bathroom. I'm taking a piss. LEAVE ME ALONE! Sadly I feel I should mention that my kids are 15 and 10. They are walking, talking, thinking, able to make toast and not burn down the house, wipe their own ass, tie their own shoes and probably do more on a computer than I ever care to know how to do...individuals. But the second a drop of my piss hits the toilet water....they become so unbelievably needy. It's a curse of motherhood throughout the world. No matter what their age....from infants to adults....you go to cop a squat and they are on you like white on rice!
Every decision that I have made since my children's conception has been with them in mind. Whether it be at the forefront or in the back of my mind, I try to keep them ever present in everything I choose to do. Sometimes I wonder if never taking a step back and making a choice solely based on what I would like, enjoy, want or so forth has been the best mode of thinking. Then add in the partnership of marriage and suddenly I find myself farther down the pole of priorties.
Even when I try to make what I deem to be a semi-selfish decision I find myself second guessing it and wondering how it will affect the ones I love most. Never once thinking about how I should be loving myself which would in turn allow me to be a better _________ (fill in the blank with title) to __________ (fill in the blank with recipient). Yet out of selfless decisions comes pretty selfish children and at times a selfish husband. How I have managed this...I still am not sure. I know that I cannot control Jon's mindset or behavior, but my kids... it is the age, for the most part, but sometimes you just wonder....if Mother Teresa would have had kids...would they have been selfless saints as well?? Hmmmmmm.......
Here was my attempt at doing something just for me tonight. I left the house to go take a walk at a local park and then decided to stop for a some chai tea on the way back to the house to warm me up. Now I am sitting here thinking there were probably at least 10 other things that I could've/should've done in that 45 minutes and with the $5 that I just spent. This line of thought then leads me to going out last night with a girlfriend of mine to VooDoo Fest. I haven't been out like this since....hmmmm....April. The tickets were free. Parking was free. And yet I feel like an ass for not including my family.
It's borderline ridiculous. Where is the pill that turns off the "over caring about every little miniscule detail of every second of my day and what I am doing with it and how it may possibly be affecting those around me"?
Where's the fairytale about the princess that falls madly in love with her prince and then he does something ridiculously stupid and leaves her in a depressive tail spin without any dwarf's or magic fairy godmother to snap her out of it?? Where's that story?
I think I shall write it.....right after I stop feeling guilty for sitting back here on my laptop and not being out in the living room with my kids who are glued to one or another multi media device.
~JP
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