Monthly Archives: January 2013
Early on, after my divorce, I figured I was racing the clock. You know, trying to beat that date on the calendar that somehow says you are now too old to be putting a profile up online. What that date is specifically, I don’t know. After a solid three years of meetups and a few relationships that lasted about 3 months before I was able to discern that, no matter what he said to me, he just really wasn’t that into me. Then there was this one relationship that I somehow completely missed the clues that he just wasn’t into me. Two years later, he’s disappeared into thin air and I haven’t heard a word from him since he left seven months ago. As I look back on it now, there were plenty of signs that he wasn’t as fully vested in the relationship as he said he was. Actions speak louder than words. I didn’t like the actions. Specifically, I didn’t like how they betrayed his words. I think I hung in there because I just didn’t want to admit that I had made another bad judgement call…again. I hung on when I should have let go. I was foolish.
Have you ever found yourself caught in the comparison game? Have you ever looked at someone else’s achievements, or work, or life and thought, “Wow, I’m a complete failure?” Have you ever compared yourself (the self you actually are now) to the self you imagined you would someday be? Have you ever compared what your goals or plans were to what you are actually living out today? Have you ever been disappointed by these comparisons?
One could say the down side to vacation is that it has to end. That is definitely a downside, especially if the vacation was an enjoyable one. It could be an upside if you were miserable the entire time. Tonight, after a two week vacation, I find, I cannot sleep. That’s my downside. I cannot sleep and I don’t know why. Morning on my job comes early.
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No matter how much you look forward to the day when you no longer have to taxi kids around, text instead of talking on the phone, or hide in the bathroom with the door locked for a few hours of solitude, when children grow up and leave home, it leaves a big hole in your life. I’m not exactly a helicopter mom. I don’t hover over my children. I don’t get my confidence and security from my persona of “Mother”. I believe that as a mother, it is my job to work myself out of a job. To this end, from the time my children were little, I have not done anything for the child that the child can do herself. Or himself. I’m not the world’s greatest mom. I don’t do Martha Stewart birthday parties. I did. Once. It nearly killed me. I don’t like playing the taxi mom, and I hate sports where you have to sit for hours in the cold spring rain and watch your kid sit on the sidelines or daydream in the outfield as, all the while, I’m thinking of the hundreds of dollars I had to scrape together for the pleasure of doing so.
My oldest daughter is heading back to college to finish out her junior year in just a few days. There are many things to be done. She is a list maker. Lately, as her personal stress begins to mount, she’s taken to vocalizing these lists. I find it interesting to note, that she repeatedly mentions two things. She reminds us all, that we still have to do our White Elephant Gift Exchange. (No, we haven’t done that yet. It’s been tough to get everyone together the last few days.) My daughter is also insistent upon creating her New Year’s Resolutions for 2012. This year, I just don’t share her enthusiasm.
Tonight, only a few moments after our celebratory cheers and noisemaking, my oldest daughter, as she drifted off to sleep belted out, “2012, We will never, ever, ever be getting back together.”
I chuckled. I continued on about my business of making sure my home was picked up and secure. I have guests crashing on couches and in extra beds throughout the house. There was a great deal of Martinelli’s flowing tonight, and for the first time in years, some fireworks after the Times Square ball dropped. It was wonderful evening, spent with the people who saw me through the most difficult parts of 2012. I couldn’t imagine celebrating without them. Read the rest of this entry