Feeling Indulgent

I never cease to be amazed by the incredible role that Sidney plays in our family. Her surgery went well and she can come home tomorrow at 4:30. They found two lumps in one of her mammaries and a large cyst in her uterus. Oddly, they think that her body was tricked into a false pregnancy which caused her hormones to go wild and caused the lumps.

Even though we have the cats, our house felt empty when I got home tonight.

I've been a bit of a wreck this past week, which is why I haven't been writing. Nothing terrible happened, I just had a lot of small obstacles and a large case of pms. I'm waiting for the simple lull of boring monotony to send waves of soothing routine over my life. Which brings me to this: I have never been very good at processing stress or unpleasantries. How do people get good at this? Is it just something that you're born with? It's always my tendency to run when the going gets tough. As I get older and more rooted in the life Jay and I have made, my choices become fewer and fewer in the running department. When stress hits I seem to melt into a giant weepy mess. Part of this is the hopeless pressure of being trapped in whatever situation I'm stressed out by. I don't like conflict and I don't like feeling as though I have to deal with things that I do not like. I just want life to be simple and easy. I want to be able to pay my bills. I want my family to be healthy. I want to feel safe. I want to buy presents for my children. I want to have a few good friends who I love and who I know love me back. I want to watch tv shows with my husband and occasionally drink a glass or two of red wine. I want a phone and a remote control that both work when they have new batteries. I want friendly neighbors and a nice backyard. I want to leave work feeling like I did a good job and exceeded the expectations of my superiors. I want to be good to my body. I want to have patience with my children. I want to make nice meals for my husband and sit around and laugh together.

The longer we live in the city the more claustrophobic that I feel. Yet, I'm tired of moving around. When we moved to Philadelphia it all felt very temporary. In our third year of city living I'm pretty sure that it's not for me... but I don't really know where to go. Should we move to a suburb? Should we go back to Jersey? Should we just stay put?

Lately, I've been struggling not to feel overwhelmed and I'm not sure why. Is it just a hormonal month? Am I losing my mind? Am I trying to achieve things that aren't possible? Will I regret my choices?

I miss being entirely present for my children. Of course, I'm not entirely present because I have a job now. But this has less to do with my job and more to do with the fact that they are growing up. Though I LOVE the people who they are becoming more than I could ever express... I love them so much that it brings me to tears when I think about how special they both are... I also feel sadness and wish deeply that their lives wouldn't move so quickly. I'm incredibly proud of every milestone and yet sad that they need me less. At the heart of this is pure selfishness. I enjoyed my time as a stay at home mom because I made a career of it. I worked hard. For any difficult day that saw me pulling my hair out and dying for my husband to get home from work... I wouldn't trade one second of it. And I miss it. Even last year, when Bunny was in Kindergarten and I had alone time with Lila for the first time ever. I long for it. Even though I have always been aware of the fact that I wouldn't homeschool and the day would come when my children would inevitably be gone for most of the day, five days a week... it went too fast and I wasn't prepared. And I AM NOT READY. Why aren't I ready?

Earlier in the year we had so many changes and so much happening. The move. The big loss. The new job. The Holidays. And now it's hit me hard.

Earlier today I told my husband that I was excited for this year to end and for the new year to begin. He said, "What about right now? Aren't you excited for right now?"

I was sort of caught off guard by his remark and I'm still not certain if he was kidding.

I've been reflecting a lot today.

2010 was my hardest year to date. I've had difficult pills to swallow in my life. I've known some tragedy, felt some growing pains, had my heart broken and failed a few times. But, never before have I had an entire year of disappointment where every path lead to disaster.

...which got me thinkin', there's something very beautiful about disaster. And though the most emotionally taxing events are the toughest to weather, they are also the changing things. They make us greater and stronger and richer than we were previously. This year knew a lot of fear for my family. We didn't have our health. We struggled financially. We fell apart... but we never hurt each other.

So, now, on the other side of a terrible chain of events, I feel grateful for the disaster. I don't know that I knew how strong the bond between my husband and I was until it was forced to withstand the weight of a years worth of blows. I don't know that I knew that I was able to hold a stable home together for my children when facing fears that I felt were too big to deal with. I don't know that I have ever been so scared and not run away before now. I didn't know that I had it in me. But now I do.

I am stronger than I was at this time last year.

I have a greater appreciation for my life and marriage.

I have a greater understanding that happiness is where you build it, not where you chase it.

I have a greater sense of self-acceptance.

And I have a deeper sense of peace.

I tend to live in the past or the future but struggle with the now. I hope that at this time next year I can say that I have better control of that. Instead of saying that I'm really looking forward to the year to come, I'd like to be able to say, "I'm really enjoying my life."

...I might not actually know how to enjoy life.

Chew on that.

Well Folks, it's official...

I have LET MYSELF GO.

I have wanted a new profile picture for my facebook. My hair is growing like a worm-compost tea fed flower garden and it's at this super-awkward stage. Stage: WORST OF THE WORST. I don't want to use dread pics anymore and the super short doo that I had previously isn't really what I look like... so I went to take some new pics today.

And damn.

Mama has got bags under her eyes that she didn't even know were there. It's like, beneath my eyes hides all of the emotional baggage of generations of tortured people.

Just LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MOTHER OF GOD!!!!! What has happened to my face?

And just as proof of the hair hell where I reside,

I have resorted to this:

From the back I appear to be a chubby 4th grader.

And from the front I look like I'm 50.

I Madmenned Myself

Tell me that the likeness isn't incredible!