"I know you don't think I live in the real world, but I'm finding it's just the opposite. Most people are running - you are running to work - running to errands - running home - and running to put the kids to bed - running to mow the lawn - running, running, running - and not thinking about what's happening. You can avoid all this emotion, and this living. You are all running and I am sitting still at the table, like having a cup of coffee, while I watch it all happen. I see them grow up before my eyes and I need a God damn pause button before it all goes. I'm watching time pass right before my eyes and it is killing me. I see every moment as it happens and it is a moment to cherish and preserve and I know we will blink and it is over."Maybe it is a mom thing.
Maybe I have too much time on my hands.
Maybe it is a dramatic-former-actress-so-emotional-Gemini-thing.
Whatever it is, I am very grateful to be aware of this while I'm in it. While I'm in this beautiful world where frogs are stinkin' awesome and the kids want to hold my hand.
I don't need you to forward blog posts to me about 'enjoying the moment' and turning off the screens and running and jumping with your child and pushing them on the swing while fireflies and dandelion seeds dance around us in the sunshine.
I do it. Everyday. And I laugh. And I'm happy.
I'm so damn happy - it hurts.
It hurts to have so much to lose - the opposite of what Janis Joplin sings about:
"Freedom's just another word for - nothing left to lose..."
Sometimes I have anxiety about how this whole family thing is going to work out. My husband and I are both children of divorce, and my brother and I have drifted apart in our adult lives.
How do you keep this feeling? How do you preserve these innocent, loving, family days?
I find it so hard to settle into my role some days. I see other moms fully entrenched in full-time mommy-ness, aware that this is their life for a good, long, while, and they are prepared to make a lot of lunches and drive to a lot of swim meets. I always feel like the rug is going to be pulled out from under me at any moment. Hubby's going to lose his job and I'll need to go back; the NICU will call and say they need the babies back, the kids will be drafted to some prodigy think tank and my services will be null and void...
All irrational fears, granted, but omnipresent.
Or perhaps, again, just my manifestation of my anxiety approaching kindergarten.
(For the kids, mind you; I'm not entering kindergarten....at least...I don't think I am...let me check my smartphone.)