Okay, so I am a
Mom. I am a lot of other things, too, but the
Mom part seems to take up most of my
life.
Some days I feel as though I will die of boredom and no one will even notice. I will just sit here amid the smattering of toys and books with titles like "The Foot Book", and quietly give up the ghost.
Of course, if I died loudly, my children might notice. But I will have to compete with Steve from Blue's Clues and an orange car that plays La Cuccaracha over and over.
I watch as my carpet slowly changes from white to a kind of dingy brown, and wonder if the vacuum cleaner will even make a difference. I try. It doesn't. I sort of knew that it wouldn't, but you have to try, don't you?
Yesterday, my children started school. For the first time, they are not with me. I had five hours to fill. They loomed ahead of me like mountains, and I have no gear to climb them.
I got a ticket on the way to the school in the morning. I didn't care.
When I got home, the house seemed so large and empty. I decided to fill it with music. I cranked up the stereo with Black Sabbath and vacuumed the dingy carpet again. When the CD player switched to my Steve Miller Band CD, it was time for lunch.
I called a friend and we headed to a Chinese restaurant. When we were finished eating, it was time to pick up my children. The day passed so quickly, that I hardly had time to miss them.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, that I'm more than a disciplinarian, injury kisser, clothes washer, food dispenser. I used to be cool. I once had purple hair. Did I mention that? I was in a band. I remember high school. I had friends. And now what I am is a woman, no longer a girl, who has dreams and ideas and loves a man.
The man is brilliant, and he is a writer. Maybe not for a living, but a least for a life. He had dreams, too. And ideas. And I wonder, do I inhibit them?
Maybe tomorrow after I'm done watching the grass grow, I will ask him. And I can hear his answer. It is always the same. "I love you", he'll say. And I can live with that. For now.