Sunday, October 21, 2007

mommy's woes

Balance = Happiness

How does one achieve these two things? Ignorance is bliss? So I just think too much, is that it? Because I certainly am no genius that's for sure. Last year I quit my part-time job because I felt so guilty for leaving mon petit fee to go to work. It didn't feel right and I have learned time and time again to trust my instincts. So there you go. And now I feel like I have given up so much of myself that I have forgotten who I am. Just now, I had had it so I took a break (thank goodness I was able!) and left the apartment (mon petit fee in the care of the porcellino) to come to a cafe just across the street and sit for thirty minutes all by myself. That is bliss, something I need to do more than once every few weeks or longer.

Ever hear of a babysitter? Yes, but I don't want to hire just anyone, definitely not a total stranger, and well, you get what you pay for, so that is something that I would not be frugal on. I don't want to be a slave either, but it seems like being "mommy" means the same thing. Well at least I can vote and get out of the apartment daily. Ok, and I can also make play dates and grow my own sprouts and pick which cd's I'd like to listen to, too.

So maybe that was a bad analogy, especially now that I am here enjoying a lovely cup of espresso it seems like such an exaggeration. But often I feel like all I do is clean vomit, poopoo, peepee, dirt, dishes, cloths, noses and nurture til I bleed. And I only have one child! Good lord. But it's just because I am so isolated here in gay land. So I feel so guilty for feeling this way when I should just be so entirely grateful for all that I have. I am American. That alone means that I am privileged. And then we live in such a beautiful city with loads of culture, abundance of healthy food readily available, it's very safe, I can walk everywhere, and yet I often still struggle for happiness. Woe is me. I should stop complaining and start counting my blessings as there are so many. Is that it? Is it all about what you choose to focus on?

When I was a little girl (because that's what it always comes back to) and the clock struck 11:11 or I blew out birthday candles, or threw a dime into a fountain, there was one wish I wished over and over: to be happy. Yes, my step-father was an ass and my parents, who still hate each other today, divorced when I was four or something. So I know those two things had a profound impact on my ego, but I'm an adult now so I should be able to think how I want to, right? I wish I could do what my mom so lovingly told me and just, "Get over it." The problem is, I feel like I am flying solo so much of the time that any energy I have rushes out of the balloon that was not tied. And because I have to work a little at being happy, it is not always possible simply because the energy is being used to blow out a bunch of hot air. Bad analogy? Hey, I'm tired. Get over it. There must be a song about that somewhere. Get over it, I'm over it, yada yada yada. And actually, that is about the only thing that keeps me going. I need to drench myself in music. THAT is what is missing.

Ok, I can't sit at this cafe any longer. There's actually a beautiful blue sky and no rain, but it's something like 50 degrees F, so a bit chilly. The little heater seems to be heating only the air just above my head. Though on the brighter side, this is one thing I love about this land. They put heaters outside at the cafes so if you want to sit outside, you will not freeze your buns off. Though I wouldn't mind a bit of that really, as my buns could use a little shrinkage. And on that lovely note, a tout a l'heure...