sometimes I think i am old enough to know better. I shouldn't make the same mistakes at 38 as i did at 28. Like, I know skinny jeans are not for me. Truly, are they for anyone? And if I know that, shouldn't i in turn, know that I am too old to do tequila shots one night and expect to get up with any grace at all the next morning?
At what age does immaturity turn into senility? When does bad judgement turn from innocent mistake to losing ones mind? At 28 sleeping with the wrong guy is expected. At 38 it is a made for t.v show with the word "cougar" in the title. I think a lot of us are in a grey area here. I feel like I am in my 20's but my actions should reflect 30's. My thoughts feel age appropriate (except for the crush on Zach Efron), yet my memory serves me as a 70 year old. Yes, I have called the kids by the dogs name but, you know what, my friends still know who I mean!
I never wanted 40 to be the new 30. I wanted to know when I could let it all go and wear a mu mu around town. maybe even slippers. but I have been becoming startlingly aware that behavior has nothing to do with age, experience or wisdom, it has to do with fear. Fear of what everyone may think, or say, or do. Fear of what you see in the mirror, fear of what your kids may repeat to strangers, or worse yet, your friends.
The only time I am not afraid is if i am running, or under water in the ocean off of Hawaii. How sad is that? I am a grown woman and any sort of interactive life scares me to death. Maybe senility would be a blessing, I wouldn't realize I was afraid and i could just be free to wear mu mu's and slippers everyday, not just Halloween.
Forget the age of enlightenment, I am going straight to the age of "i don't give a fuck" and when I get there, I may arrive in skinny jeans. Even if I am a wee bit senile, you can bet my smile will be one of inner peace and mockery, for I will realize that i am not 1/2 as insane as life in the suburbs.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
comfort of strangers
Have you ever noticed that becoming a mother, and known to everyone, makes you drawn to becoming a no one and finding comfort in strangers?
I started writing these little blips to keep me sane. I would write with no abandon because no one was looking (kind of like wearing a bikini at 40.) I found some of them funny and so did a few other people. Well, I think I have gotten off track. I wrote something for some friends a few weeks ago and now I have lost the private excitement of strangers. The accolades from people I know I find condescending, the comments from anonymous readers I find inspiring.
It is something that happened with motherhood. I used to turn to my friends for help and clarity but, the minute #1 was born, all of the sudden my friends weren't good enough, or at least I certainly wasn't going to look stupid in front of them and ask for help. So where do we all end up? Chat rooms, websites, the self help isle at Barnes and Noble?! I for one, am tired of it. A good, 17 year old girl cry, between friends just doesn't seem to work as well when you are 38. I am not sure if my best motherhood friend even knows how much I want to run away from this job. But, I do know that Carrie L. from Des Moines, Iowa does. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel the need to hide my weakest points from my strongest friends?
I am tired of pretending I am not neurotic at times with the kids, with myself. I am tired of trying to be everything to everybody and making all the moms like me. Yes, I am talking to you, lady in the boots that always reminds me of how much money you make. Oh, and you, to her left, the one that won't admit she has Botox but talks about how great her skin looks at 40. And no, I didn't forget you Mrs. Howard, the queen of the back handed compliment ( i am only brave enough to call her out by name because she doesn't know how to use a computer).
Yes, I want you all to like me, but maybe you should like me for who I am, not who I am pretending to be on any given day. Seriously, I think I am going back to writing for myself and saying what I need to say, not what you want me to say. So, if I offend you by name or social stereotype than send me a snarky email, anonymous please, I think I just like it better that way.
I started writing these little blips to keep me sane. I would write with no abandon because no one was looking (kind of like wearing a bikini at 40.) I found some of them funny and so did a few other people. Well, I think I have gotten off track. I wrote something for some friends a few weeks ago and now I have lost the private excitement of strangers. The accolades from people I know I find condescending, the comments from anonymous readers I find inspiring.
It is something that happened with motherhood. I used to turn to my friends for help and clarity but, the minute #1 was born, all of the sudden my friends weren't good enough, or at least I certainly wasn't going to look stupid in front of them and ask for help. So where do we all end up? Chat rooms, websites, the self help isle at Barnes and Noble?! I for one, am tired of it. A good, 17 year old girl cry, between friends just doesn't seem to work as well when you are 38. I am not sure if my best motherhood friend even knows how much I want to run away from this job. But, I do know that Carrie L. from Des Moines, Iowa does. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel the need to hide my weakest points from my strongest friends?
I am tired of pretending I am not neurotic at times with the kids, with myself. I am tired of trying to be everything to everybody and making all the moms like me. Yes, I am talking to you, lady in the boots that always reminds me of how much money you make. Oh, and you, to her left, the one that won't admit she has Botox but talks about how great her skin looks at 40. And no, I didn't forget you Mrs. Howard, the queen of the back handed compliment ( i am only brave enough to call her out by name because she doesn't know how to use a computer).
Yes, I want you all to like me, but maybe you should like me for who I am, not who I am pretending to be on any given day. Seriously, I think I am going back to writing for myself and saying what I need to say, not what you want me to say. So, if I offend you by name or social stereotype than send me a snarky email, anonymous please, I think I just like it better that way.
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