Where has the time gone?

3 07 2008

Wow.   This blog has been neglected.   I was amazed at the new look on wordpress and the date on my last blog entry.  

Here’s the scoop: 

Summer is here.   It is hot.  Tempers flare around 4pm.  It is never pretty.   There is screaming, crying, slamming of doors, ignoring.   I’ll leave it to your imagination which of those things are me and which are  the kids!   

There has been knitting, though not much.   I’m in a knitting lull (?), duldrom (?).   It has been dishcloths, headbands, and coffee cup cozies.  Projects that can be started and finished quickly.  My bigger projects hang in limbo.   They do not talk to me.  I do not feel guilty about not knitting them.   They are just string (expensive string) with sticks.   Lately, even socks are too much of a commitment.   How crazy is that?

 My birthday is quickly approaching and I think I am having a mid-life crisis.   Ok, so hopefully its not a midlife crisis, but it certainly is a crisis.   It seems as if the world and my little microcosm I live in has gone haywire.   Gas and groceries are super expensive–hello $3.99 a gallon for MILK and GAS?    The election, the economy, my role in the family, and a so many other things seem to be stressing me out.     It seems as if there are more failures in my life (and the world) than positive events.   All of this has made me want to retreat inward and make memories with the kids and my husband.   As I do this however, I find myself getting annoyed with the little things about being a wife and a mother–and not just the laundry either.  

Once upon a time, I thought I would be a great mother–loving, nurturing, all that AP, granola, birkenstock wearing, crunchy stuff.   Now I know, I’m not any of those things.   Yes, of course I love my kids, but when they are 35, what will their memories of me be?   I shudder to think.    What do I remember about my mother?   Little crazy things.  I won’t write them, because I’m sure she doesn’t want the world to know all those crazy stories.   But do I want my kids to have the same memories of me–crazy stories about the wacky, silly, stupid, and lazy things I did when they were growing up?  

How can I contribute to the world and my kids if I don’t even know where I fit into any more?   Outside of the role of Mother, of course.  It is about fitting in and finding what I’m “meant” to do.  






4 responses

3 07 2008

Oh boy… it is so hard when we realize that our behavior is NOT what we want our kids to remember. It is very humbling, for me. I too, want my children’s memories of childhood to be different than mine. I feel like I want to dive in and give 110% and then end up feeling somehow resentful of it. I try to balance it by giving a little bit less (like 95% ought to do it, right?) figuring that if don’t try to overdo it, than I will be more balanced, and we will all come out happier in the end.

That’s the hope, anyway. 🙂

Maybe it is time for a mom-break. I think we all need those, once in a while.

3 07 2008

There is no such thing as a perfect mother. Shoot for “good enough” try to have some fun, and they will remember that you love them.
It’s easy to get fed up when the economy sucks and it’s too hot to do anything.
Who wants a lap full of wool when it’s 95 degrees outside? Knit when it makes you feel good. Knit without obligation.
Remember “if Momma ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy” and take care of Momma first. Then the kids. Just like the drop down oxygen mask on the airplane. I suggest a pedicure treat.
Enjoy the fireworks for your birthday.
Now, if I could only follow my own good advice, but as Oscar Wilde said “I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.” I send you ehugs.

3 07 2008

I could have written this. I feel the same way. Some days I feel like I want to go out and find a JOB just to get away, and not even in a joking way. Maybe I will… Interestingly, we didn’t even talk about any of this today, but for the milk. 🙂

See you later.

3 07 2008

Ew. I hate when smiley faces show up like that. Here, 😦 Take that Mr. Smiley Face Maker.

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