Today is one of those days.
Today I do not want to be a parent. I want a time-machine. I want to go back. I am fed up with trying to be a "good person". I am angry. Angry at myself for agreeing to raise someone else's children when I knew I never wanted that life. I am tired of being nice. Tired of doing the right thing. Just plain tired. I will choke down a desperate wail of frustration at the unfairness of it all. I will mourn the loss of my freedom. Today, I will spend my whole existence entirely for others and I will hate it.
Today, the title "Mommy" will be followed a wishful little echo in my mind saying, "Auntie". I will feel overwhelmed at the enormity of providing good foundations for the lives of two new people. I will feel trepidation at the thought of dealing with teenagers one day. I don't want this and I will feel guilty for thinking that. Today, I will try my best to hide my true feelings. Today I will feel sorry for myself.
That was actually yesterday. If I didn't give myself permission to acknowledge all of that, today might not have been a better day.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Phantom Limbs
It is still.
Saturday evening, good music on, typing away, undisturbed, on the couch with a drink next to me. That would NEVER happen if my kids were home.
There would major disturbances and definitely no beverage, especially an adult beverage, resting peacefully on the table next to me. I could close my eyes if I wanted to and tilt my head back. No high-pitched screaming or relentless whining would commence. I can have an uninterrupted thought. No searing pain from unexpected head-butts to my face. I can do anything or nothing. No elbows digging into my chest or little fingers poking into my eyeballs. The possibilities are endless.
So...what's the problem???
I miss my babies (sssiiiiiiiiiiiigggghhhhhh). I LOVE them sooooo much, sometimes I think my heart will explode. Don't be so surprised, I do have a heart.
They have become little appendages to my physical body and consciousness, a bond not easily broken by time or distance. Usually with me everywhere I go and most of the time, clinging to me. My mind is always on child high alert. Where are they? What are they doing? Why is it so quiet? Any sounds they make or subtle expressions and my mommy brain perks up. They float and swoosh around me constantly and when they are gone, something feels amiss. A friend put it perfectly, like the unnatural calm in the eye of a hurricane.
G is a such a cuddler. He adores to snuggle and give kisses. L is a force of nature. My heart smiles when we sing together at night. They are smart, funny, curious kids. I treasure their adoration and sweet gestures, like when L softly strokes my face or says, "Mommy, you has pwetty hayer". Or when G clings onto me like a little monkey when I am carrying him, I feel important, like the center of his little universe. I shudder imagine what their lives would have been like had they been bounced around to different foster homes and/or returned to their bio-parents.
I truly appreciate the expressions of unconditional love I receive and and am able to share. I am not just faking it. Despite being at odds with my restless nature, I exercise my Vows of Motherhood faithfully. Regardless of this struggle, I am hopelessly bound by heartstrings. My children are innocents in all of this and I would protect them fiercely.
Enough with that, my drink awaits and they are at Gramma's house tonight. YES!
Saturday evening, good music on, typing away, undisturbed, on the couch with a drink next to me. That would NEVER happen if my kids were home.
There would major disturbances and definitely no beverage, especially an adult beverage, resting peacefully on the table next to me. I could close my eyes if I wanted to and tilt my head back. No high-pitched screaming or relentless whining would commence. I can have an uninterrupted thought. No searing pain from unexpected head-butts to my face. I can do anything or nothing. No elbows digging into my chest or little fingers poking into my eyeballs. The possibilities are endless.
So...what's the problem???
I miss my babies (sssiiiiiiiiiiiigggghhhhhh). I LOVE them sooooo much, sometimes I think my heart will explode. Don't be so surprised, I do have a heart.
They have become little appendages to my physical body and consciousness, a bond not easily broken by time or distance. Usually with me everywhere I go and most of the time, clinging to me. My mind is always on child high alert. Where are they? What are they doing? Why is it so quiet? Any sounds they make or subtle expressions and my mommy brain perks up. They float and swoosh around me constantly and when they are gone, something feels amiss. A friend put it perfectly, like the unnatural calm in the eye of a hurricane.
G is a such a cuddler. He adores to snuggle and give kisses. L is a force of nature. My heart smiles when we sing together at night. They are smart, funny, curious kids. I treasure their adoration and sweet gestures, like when L softly strokes my face or says, "Mommy, you has pwetty hayer". Or when G clings onto me like a little monkey when I am carrying him, I feel important, like the center of his little universe. I shudder imagine what their lives would have been like had they been bounced around to different foster homes and/or returned to their bio-parents.
I truly appreciate the expressions of unconditional love I receive and and am able to share. I am not just faking it. Despite being at odds with my restless nature, I exercise my Vows of Motherhood faithfully. Regardless of this struggle, I am hopelessly bound by heartstrings. My children are innocents in all of this and I would protect them fiercely.
Enough with that, my drink awaits and they are at Gramma's house tonight. YES!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
It Was Meant To Be...
First off, I don't believe in Fate. I believe in consequences. I don't believe I now have children because I was destined to. I believe that I am raising someone elses' kids because they made stupid life choices. I am reaping the consequences of their actions.
That being said, at first, I did try to rationalize the eventuality, especially when people would say, "Oh, it was meant to be". I know they were just being thoughtful. I didn't want to be rude and reply, "What? I have tried to make good decisions all my life only to be saddled with the consequences of someone else's bad choices?". Instead I would say, "Yeah, things just fell into place and everything seemed to fit."
Things did seem to fit.
The life decisions my husband and I had made seemed to align perfectly with the unexpected arrival of a child needing a home. He had just started a well-paying new job. I had transitioned from a high-intensity job assisting child psychiatrists to a job as a bike courier/office assistant. My new schedule allowed me to go to school at night. I was considering becoming a dietitian. My husband's new salary supported us well when my hours were decreased at my courier job. Now I could focus on school. We had downsized from a house to an apartment with the goal of traveling more. We were taking little trips, especially to the coast. We had more free time, less responsibility and more money. Finally we were going to start our real lives.
Things were looking up!
My phone rang. "[Sis], this is D. We not gonna be able to get the baby back. Can you take her?".
It was Fourth of July weekend 2009 and by August 8th, we were parents.
That being said, at first, I did try to rationalize the eventuality, especially when people would say, "Oh, it was meant to be". I know they were just being thoughtful. I didn't want to be rude and reply, "What? I have tried to make good decisions all my life only to be saddled with the consequences of someone else's bad choices?". Instead I would say, "Yeah, things just fell into place and everything seemed to fit."
Things did seem to fit.
The life decisions my husband and I had made seemed to align perfectly with the unexpected arrival of a child needing a home. He had just started a well-paying new job. I had transitioned from a high-intensity job assisting child psychiatrists to a job as a bike courier/office assistant. My new schedule allowed me to go to school at night. I was considering becoming a dietitian. My husband's new salary supported us well when my hours were decreased at my courier job. Now I could focus on school. We had downsized from a house to an apartment with the goal of traveling more. We were taking little trips, especially to the coast. We had more free time, less responsibility and more money. Finally we were going to start our real lives.
Things were looking up!
My phone rang. "[Sis], this is D. We not gonna be able to get the baby back. Can you take her?".
It was Fourth of July weekend 2009 and by August 8th, we were parents.
Friday, March 25, 2011
I'm No Saint
"We, the unwilling, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, for so long, with so little, we are now qualified to do anything with nothing."
— Mother Teresa
— Mother Teresa
I find that quote a fittingly ironic description of my life now as a mommy by proxy. I have been and still am, most times, an unwilling parent propelled by unknown expectations into doing the seemingly impossible (for me), wanting to be a mother. The perpetually ungrateful are my two children, ages 14 months and 3 years old. My qualifications? Reluctantly parenting, whenever, wherever, however, forever.
When I was asked, almost three years ago, to adopt my niece, I cried, and cried and cried. I was absolutely terrified. I never wanted to have children. I did not adopt my kids because I am a good-hearted, generous person or because I couldn't have any of my own. I became a parent out of obligation. Obligation to my family, to my husband, to the foster family, to my guilt and to my own dysfunctional perfectionist ideals.
While I can't say I always enjoy being a parent, I do truly love my children and I want only the happiest of lives for them. So why am I lamenting about this?
Because I need to know someone out there knows what I am going through. Because I need validation for giving up my life and maybe redemption for regretting it. Because it is true and I was tired of holding it all in. Because there is no going back but maybe this will help me to keep going on. Because I desperately want to want to be a mother and become the mom my children deserve.
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