Spring Fever

There so many things I want to be doing.

Things that are good for me. Things like writing... walking... going to yoga.

I want to be excited...

That makes me want to do things that are not good for me. Things like eating... drinking vodka... seeking attention... to be fair, I am not doing that. I'm doing battle with the urge, though.

I want to feel pretty. I know it's utterly ridiculous, but when I am feeling decidedly un-pretty, everything gets all wonky. My whole vibe is off. It says something ugly about me that I'd value the opinion of someone external to me over those who know and love me the most. But I do.

So I redirect ...tamp everything down ... because that is the only way I can control it. Swallow hard.

I want to do something meaningful... like putting my crazy-assed points of view in emails and send them to my daughters. Not to be accessed now... not until they were much older.

I made accounts for them. They don't know about them, but I have the login info and passwords for each of them written somewhere that someone will find if something ever happens to me.

I haven't started sending emails yet.

Firstly, because I set one of them up with the wrong date of birth (by a day) and it was my anal retentive child's account... it'll drive her mental.

The longer I think about it though, the more I'm thinking I'll leave it... kind of a little 'tweak' from one tightly wound whack-a-do to another.

And second, I can't seem to find my desire to create lately. Not sure what that is all about, but I wouldn't be sorry to see that streak break. 

So, here's a thing I might put into email format for my daughter's future self to read;

Just now, I am so super in the mood to be writing for the first time in a very long time ...and you, my youngest child are chatting my ears off. I want to throw my lap top at you ... frizbie-style. 

Don't you think she would find that hysterical as an adult with kids of her own?  

SERIOUSLY ... DUDE!!! SHUDDUP!!

sigh...

I love them dearly, I honestly do. 

My oldest had a school trip and flew to another city. She had an amazing time. I was so proud of how well she did with her budgeting and how well she kept in touch. How she told me she was missing my food so much ... and me, too ... but "could we have a big brunch when I get home?" I was on cloud nine! We had brunch with three kinds of meat, two kinds of eggs, homemade pancakes, hash browns, toast, fruit and juice. 

Then, for dinner I had gotten four small lobsters and paired them with bbq steak and all the fixin's. Onions and mushrooms, baked red potatoes, freshly chopped salad ... and for dessert, strawberry shortcake. 

Every detail of that meal was me slopping my love all over that kid. Do you think she will recognize what that was really about? Will she resent me because I have been such a disaster during this highly emotional and impressionable time in her life?

Will what they remember about me be, that I was a 'mom-ster'? That I was selfish? That I messed with their heads?

So many people resent their mothers. It's weird. I'm sure most of those mothers were doing their best most of the time.
Mine was.
I am.
It's been less 'sprint' and more 'drag' a whole lot of the time, but we are all doing our best.

Will that matter, do you think?
Or am I just undermining their confidence, or over nurturing, or under feeding, or not seeing something I should, or seeing things that aren't there?

It's the only thing I really have to be good at... being their mother. I so want to be good at that. I want them to want my ear when they have problems. I want them to be bonded to me.

It's so hard to know how to play your hand at any given time. When you look back at mistakes, bad decisions and lessons learned the hard way, it's pretty easy to see where you went wrong, but at the time? Not so much

I think it would be cool to suddenly find out my mom had written to me when I was still young ... and she was still young. That would be a treasure beyond words. Don't you think? To be able to read through the eyes of your mother while she was still mothering you? 

... but then, would I really want my kids to know all my truths? There's a question for smarter people than me.

Yeah ... and chatty-Kathy across the room here just said (and I quote) "I am expecting top marks for this story I'm writing (that's right ... she is writing an English assignment while annoying the hell outta me) ... I mean I won't be happy until I have an envelope of her tears from reading this story" (referring to her English teacher).

What have I done?

Now she is getting SIRI to say "Uh-oh spaghetti-o" over and over again. OmiGAWD!!!

This child! Mind you, this is the same child that looked up from her lap top this afternoon and thanked me for 'really listening to her' and for 'taking her seriously'...she said she realized today how rare that was.

I adore these kids.

I guess at the end of the day, though I am finding my existence a little dull... and the road is still a little rocky. Things are okay... my kids are okay...  I am okay... it's going to be okay.