Wednesday, January 04, 2006

All Whine. No Cheese.

I woke up this morning from a terrible dream in which I was heading to jail for an unknown crime and in my arms, I held my daughter. Halfway there, I said to the friendly lady driving the SUV, "Oh wait. Will I be able to take my daughter with me?" and she laughed and said, "No. She'll go to daycare."

Perhaps it says something about me that the idea of being incarcerated didn't faze me, but the thought of my daughter being tended by strangers freaked me out. She's a clingy vine of a girl and to pluck her from me would be to kill her. Or at least turn her into a whiner.

So I woke up feeling panicked and despondent and that mood has plagued me all day. In a classic downward spiraling thought pattern, I've reminded myself of all that is wrong and sad in my life.

For instance, my bangs are wonky, and by that, I do mean "askew." My natural curl has developed a devious mind of its own and if I could, I would set my head aflame in revenge. I can't decide what to do. More bangs? Less bangs? No bangs? Bang-bang! I need a revolver. (No bangs is a bad idea. Have you seen my forehead lately? There's a reason for that.) I need to call my colorist. Maybe that would make me feel better. I need a stylist, too, one who works miracles.

My house is shabby and not in a chic way. Although I am not too proud to accept hand-me-downs, sometimes I wish I had three wishes. I'd spend one of them on a nice, new, custom-built, furnished home. With a view. From my vantage point, I am within view of the following second-hand items: television stand, couch, lamp, chair, desk, Little Tikes kitchen, coffee table, kitchen table, kitchen chairs, trash compactor, preschool-sized table, shelf, buffet, piano, kids' desk . . . and though I am normally satisfied with my thrifty purchases, not today. Today I'm despondent because my daughter was ripped from my arms in a dream.

My age annoys me. I fully intended to be a young mother--a young, stylish mother--and then infertility pushed me in a corner and my twins came when I was 28. Not too old, right? But then, a second child when I was 33, and the last when I was 37. Now I will most certainly be the oldest kindergarten mother. Which. Okay. Fine. Big deal.

I would like to note that when my mother was my age, I was in my second year of college. See?

And what about the Rest of My Life? Anvilcloud will say this is typical for my age but angst still feels icky. I intended to start prerequisites for a nursing degree this year, but I postponed it for another year. How can I fit another duty into my life when I already want to run away some days?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. See that? Time's ticking away! I prop my elbows on my second-hand desk and cradle my forehead in my cold hands. Cold hands! I practically have one foot in the grave already! My hands are cold and soon, my heart will stop pumping entirely and my daughter will wail her loss and they'll roll me into a grave and that will be that.

I won't have any cool accomplishments to put in that newspaper obituary. I can't stop reading the obituaries, which is why I am aware of how young some people are when they die. Plus, the fact that my own dad was 47. FORTY-SEVEN. If I die when I am 47, I only have six more years. Six. More. Years.

I want to be alone. I'm lonely! I want to sleep. I want to stay up late! I want a clean house. I want to ignore housework!

I need one of those fancy psychiatrists to patch my two halves back together again and infuse me with cheerfulness.

Do you know that my 99-year old grandmother still worries about her weight? I want to stop worrying about my weight--and my wonky bangs--before I turn 99. Is that too much to ask?

Of course, I can count my blessings, name them one by one. I can. I do. I remember. But sometimes, the skies stay gray all day, my brow stays furrowed, and I feel like weeping.

This ridiculous moodswing brought you courtesy of:
--My Uterus--
--now wreaking havoc for thirty-one miserable years--


Blogger JEB said...

I think you're my favorite blogger. So funny, yet you still manage to tug on my heart strings in every post.


2:55 PM  
Blogger Yvonne said...

Mel, I sometimes have many of the same thoughts - especially in January, it seems. I reported on my blog that January is my least favorite month. Also, I had my 1st baby at 21, the second at 22, the third at 26 and the last one at 33 - so right now I am looking at being a Grandma sometime soon (the oldest is 25 and married!) and I still have a kid the same age as your twins. We all have our things...Hang in there - I'm sure you'll feel better soon. My house is old and shabby, too - and until recently, most of our stuff was hand me down, too. Mind you, I had to go back to work full time in order to achieve new stuff - but had to wait until the youngest was in school full time - actually around 2nd grade. I so understand how you're feeling, though. I still get boughts of "what does this all mean?"

2:55 PM  
Blogger Yvonne said...

Aren't we all cute in our little girl pictures? Deep down we are all still little girls!

2:56 PM  
Blogger lucylocket said...

My melancholia hit last night. (We Southerners revel in our melancholia.) I did what I thought was a good thing only to have someone say no thanks. I hate it when a small thing depresses me so.
I know I'll talk myself out of it; After all, tomorrow is another day as some wacko southern belle once said.

3:32 PM  
Blogger Suzanne said...

Ah Mel, may I suggest putting on your favorite slippers and having a bite of cheese?

Easy for me to say, yes? Hang tough.


4:10 PM  
Blogger The Bizza said...

*Cracking up at the Uterus comment*

Mel, you are not alone. I also feel time creeping up on me.

Nope. No acerbicly-witty words or overly-simplified advice here. Only boundless waves of empathy.

In fact, with my birthday rapidly approaching, I may post my own Whine about the same topic in a few days.


4:16 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I've woken from a dream of my husband cheating on me, only to treat him horrible all day 'cause, How Dare He!!!

This was a great post, believe it or not I think I know how you feel, hand me downs and all.

Prayers, for better tomorrows.

4:37 PM  
Blogger Jan said...

My 42-year-old self is swinging the moody blues with you today. I'll cry a few for you too.


6:01 PM  
Blogger Deb Heller said...

I know what you mean about being the oldest, I mean most experienced mom at Kindergarten, as I was 48 when my youngest hit grade K. I'm 51 now, and have a bevvy of younger friends, all moms, who are the greats friends I could ask for. They don't care that I'm older. Gosh, one of them could be my own daughter, but we're all just good friends.

Life is too short to worry about those things!

I enjoy your blog!

6:33 PM  
Blogger Lisa said...

It creeps me out when people blog aobut things that have been floating around in my brain. I can hear that clock ticking like crazy... especially since I'd love more kids... and I'm 40... and not even dating... lol..

Plus I'm lonely and want to be left alone, too. Hormones are grand.

7:39 PM  
Blogger Gina said...

Ah my friend, you know your best writing is done "at that time of the month" and this is no exception.

Wonky bangs and nightmares don't make for a fun experience.

I have felt the same discontent, and for me, it took a while to go away. I hope it doesn't take long for you....

9:12 PM  
Blogger Judy said...

I'm feeling tempest tossed on life's billows also.

I was 30 when my youngest went off to kindergarten and promptly fell in love with his teacher.

I went home and cried. I never cry. But I cried.

Then, I wrote.

I discovered that it is much more fun to read about how awful someone is feeling, than how great.

Weep with those who weep. Rejoice with those who rejoice.

And, for variety, occassionally, laugh at those who weep, just don't let them see you do it!

Grandma Judy's words to the wise.

You, my friend, are wise!

5:06 AM  
Blogger that girl said...

i thought i had something witty and supportive to say, but after reading what everyone else has said i think there's nothing left.

so i, too, am beaming waves of empathy, some secret chuckles, and much sweeter dreams.

tell your uterus that my uterus says "hi!"

6:19 AM  
Blogger weorwe said...

I'm with you on the bangs. I have a cowlick, not quite right smack in the middle, and I have a funny-shaped hairline, and a tall forehead. No bangs didn't work. Wispy bangs didn't work. Now I'm back to the old full bangs, straight across, with a little divide where the cowlick insists on declaring itself.

6:35 AM  
Blogger Anvilcloud said...

This is typical for your age. Had to say that; didn't want to disappoint you. :) It probably is, partly, but we all get in our moods from time to time, no matter what our age. It's just the way it is.

7:10 AM  
Blogger Shannon said...

Love your blog! Oh, I feel that way too--especially the hand-me-downs. And the bangs.

7:14 AM  
Blogger portuguesa nova said...

My New Year's Resolution (long term): Stop worrying about my weight by the time I'm 85. At least.

Though I must say, I waitressed at the Country Kitchen in high school which was frequented exclusively by old people and all of the old men from the nursing home sat in the smoking section, and all the old ladies on the other side of the restaurant in non-smoking, and I was completely floored by the number of times I would hear the old men sizing up the old women like they were horny teenagers: "She's okay, I'd do her, but she has that blubbery dropped waistline."


7:34 AM  
Blogger Tuesy said...

Awww, the joys of having PMS. Isn't life grand!?!

You're not old at all Mel. I'm 46, had my last baby when I was 39, almost 40. Not a planned pregnancy, but then again are they REALLY planned?

All the things that I've wanted to do in my life haven't gotten accomplished due to the fact that I've been raising kids. (ooh did I mention that I have 3 other kids?) Ages 26, 22, and 8. Yes, life does throw some curves at you, but you'll get through this...

Well in about a week or so.

As for the bangs, let 'em grow I say! Mine have decided to do the curl thing too, although I have naturally straight hair, they curl like I'm Little Orphan Annie.

7:36 AM  
Blogger Goslyn said...

Well hello Mel's uterus. I admire any organ that can inspire you to write about such a frustrating day, yet make me smile in empathy.

Hang in there, Mel. This to shall, er, pass.

7:45 AM  
Blogger Mrs. Darling said...

It's thursday and I have just posted my dream on my blog. How freaky. I too feel hung over from the dream. BTW, I was arrested in my dream too. Is that not weird?

8:59 AM  
Blogger Smoov said...

Take a deep breath......RELAX! You are not going to die when you are 47. And what the hell are you reading the obituaries for anyway? There are tons and tons of more interesting things to read!

You should do some yoga or learn to meditate. Be in the moment, be happy there....says the one who can't sit still for 5 minutes!

10:12 AM  
Blogger Debra said...

Man, Mel.... It's so not fair how funny you are! I'm not a jealous type of person by any means, I but I here and now confess that I am jealous of your sense of humor! Hang in there! I am nearly 47 and I am loving, loving, loving being in my 40's (no, really). It's been a terrific decade for me because F-I-N-A-L-L-Y I am able to be me instead of trying to be (or be like) everyone else. This has been a decade of self-acceptance because finally I *get it* that Jesus accepts me just as I am, right now, today--imagine that! And so life has become simpler and sooo much sweeter than I ever dreamed it could be .... Hugs, Debra

10:29 AM  
Blogger Beth said...

I hear you, I'm lonely, yet want to be left alone, I want a clean house, yet I ignore the housework. I'm sort of looking forward to being a bit older only because I want to be done with diapers, seatbelts (other than mine) sippy cups and constantly saying, "no, now, we are running out of time" but then everyone with older kids tells me those ages bring their own set of struggles, so I guess you can never win!! hang in there, though, and thanks for entertaining all of us. and, I'l say it again, your kids are lucky to have you, you're a good mom!

11:05 AM  
Blogger Jack-on-the-Lake said...

This was my exact conversation with my husband last night! We saw Walk the Line and instead of being glad I didn't have a hard life like Johnny Cash somehow I found myself feeling boring, bored and borish - is that a word? I feel like I'm living a life that wouldn't even be a good daytime made-for-television movie on Lifetime. And I'm sure it was somehow hormone-related.

12:26 PM  
Blogger Krisco said...

I totally relate, and hang in there. At least you have a lot of company in feeling this way.

I think doing all for other people, it just comes with the territory. Even (yadda, yadda,) of course we want some point you just say GAHHHHH. What about something for me? Some little, tiny thing I do that doesn't give someone else a clean house, clothes, food, learning, etc? Moi?

Maybe you can get out for a little. (Not the grocery!:) Go take a break somewhere by yourself, or better yet with (another momentarily child-free) girlfriend, and forget about all your obligations for awhile.

Just a suggestion.

Otherwise....this too will pass...

4:02 PM  
Blogger Elizabeth said...

Holy shit (no star thingys). I know you don't drink but may I suggest wine.

8:24 PM  
Blogger Unknown said...

No, Mel, your uterus is not the star here, but an evil henchman to the real villain. It's January. The holidays have merrily hoovered up everything you have, energy-wise, and left you with more stuff in your house and the awareness that you'll be finding tinsel in the couch until June. There isn't nearly enough sun, the bills seem to be showing up EXTRA promptly, and all children are coming down with something intestinal.
Dark chocolate has been shown to be a mood-elevator and excellent for the heart and the immune system. Also, children rarely like really dark chocolate and will stop whining for some once you let them taste it.

10:43 PM  
Blogger Derek & Marykay said...

I love you Mel!

7:01 AM  
Blogger FairMaid said...

"I want to be alone. I'm lonely! I want to sleep. I want to stay up late! I want a clean house. I want to ignore housework!"
I'm totally with you, Mel! "I want to be alone, I am lonely" is the story of my life. And, yes, everything is worse in January, even here in SoCal where the smoggy sun is shining. Hang in there, hang in there, hang in there!! And eat dark chocolate! It always cures what ails you, espescially if it is of the hormonal variety.

3:41 PM  
Blogger Gem said...

I didn't particularly want to be a young mother -- I just kept thinking we weren't ready to be parents. Then we had dd#1 at 30, #2 at 31 (yep, they're 15 months apart), #3 at 36. Now, I'm wishing I'd had them younger -- I would definitely have had more! Hubby's 6 yrs older than me, he's definitely the oldest dad of the kids our children's ages. His younger brother is a grandpa to a 4 yr old!

6:02 PM  

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