Tuesday, July 31, 2007

The Waiting Game


Stink didn't like the swing. No matter how much I tried to get him used to it, he was consistently confused, shocked and ready to vomit. Like asking Rosie O'Donell to kiss a guy, it simply wasn't going to happen.

I'm that way with change. Like right now. I'm trying to pretend I'm fine and healthy, but truth be told, I have a cold that's lodged further in my chest than Hugh Grant in a hooker's knockers. I should be sleeping. And yet...

Here I am.

Ever have those weeks where you just feel out of sorts? That's me.

I'm not depressed. I'm not anxious. I'm just....

Waiting.

For what? I'm not sure. But it's something big. An acceptance of sorts? A surprise trip to Boston? A fifty cent double coupon off Yuban hidden inside a bag of Mother's Animal Cookies? A baby kitten wrapped in a shoebox on my front step with the sign, "Call me Paxil"?

I suppose part of it is that Pip starts preschool in the fall. I can count down the days until both kids will be out of my hair for fifteen hours a week. And sure, I'm thrilled to be able to breathe in the quiet. But I'll miss those buggers. More than I care to admit. They are my soul, my laughter, my worry, my freedom, my everything. I am astounded at how much they love me, too. (I mean, what's not to love, but still...) I smile every time I hear, "Mommy! We missed you!" (When I've only come in from the garage) or their "You got me a surpriseeeeee???!" every time I go to the market without them. (Even more astounding than how much they love me is how much they love their impromptu surprises - often things I randomly pick out of my purse. McDonald's ketchup bags are "Finger paint! WOW! Let's go ruin some of Mommy's walls!")

I can type and type and Ebay and write and clean and cook and organize my way through this entire evening - waking with bags under my eyes - but the truth is, my babies are no longer babies.

Wah wah wah. Now it's my turn to cry. If this continues, late night be damned, I'm hitting the bottle.

8 comments:

liv said...

"A baby kitten wrapped in a shoebox on my front step with the sign, "Call me Paxil"?"

Now that is writing. But, trust me, we got a kitten only a couple of months ago. You'd need some Paxil if you got one.

hamiam said...

(((Mama P)))

Snarky side - Woman, your celeb analogies SLAY me. You are such a SMARTass in this regard, and I'm honored to call you "blogger friend" because of it.

Softie side - Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhh-ing right with you. You are spot on for mothering at these kiddo ages; which I know because I'm there too.

Dapoppins said...

When the boys go back to school they will take all their arguing, whining, singing, laughing, hugs, squeezes, smiles and stuff with them for most the the day.

sigh. Yeah. I will miss it too.

Pam said...

I went through the same thing when my kids went to school. And because I left work to take care of my granddaughters, I went through it again when they went to school. It's a punch in the gut, all right.

Cheryl Wray said...

You are rockin' the similes today!! Ha!! Love em! (the Hugh Grant and Rosie O'Donnell especially! :-)
Boy, do I hve days like that! Somedays I want to hit the bottle too!

Gretchen said...

I know...

I. Just. Know.

Adjustments, changes, transitions, things out of my control. They suck.

Sorry you're having one of those days. I'm having a weird moment of Les Mis memory...hearing the tune "Drink with me...to days...gone by..." Gee, aren't I the helpful one.

You're welcome.

Gretchen said...

Okay...re: your comment...ROFL.

You are so bad. I likey.

Susie Q said...

Oh girl...you have made me spit tea all over my computer screen. Not that it was clean or anything...now I guess this means I HAVE to clean it?

I know, I know, it is awful watching them grow. Wonderful and horrible at the same time. Of course, I started with mine at 7 and 6 but still....to me they were babies. Still are but the 25 year old balks at being burped these days. But I digress...

We will all be right there with ya....

MAJOR congrats on the contest. That is WAY cool.

Poor Pipsqueak. I hope she is all healed by now...

That picture of Stink is totally priceless.

And damn diddly damn damn. I missed out on that contest. Congrats to Liv. I would have been fighting tooth and nail for that prize. Really. Pulling out all the stops.

You are such a special dame. And I mean that in a good way...: )

Hugs,
Sue