filled with cement

Of course, I don't have a lot of time to write this but I gotta get it out. The way I feel right now is chock full of wet cement. Like someone *beepbeepbeep* backed up one of those brightly colored spinning cement mixer trucks and poured the entire load down my throat. Every crevice expanded a little to accept the overflow, and I am now full to capacity.

Why? Hard to say.

*I love spending time with my brother. The circumstances of what can only be described as our warlike, hellish childhood affected us differently. Sometimes, like yesterday, he shuts down so quickly, so violently, I have to check to make sure my toes weren't severed when the gate dropped. I am denied admission and it breaks my heart a little more each and every time it happens.

*We finally emptied the boxes in the garage onto the new bookshelves. When I got to a big box of my art books, we found the damage. Termites? Mice? Mold? Hard to tell but there were bore holes and crumbled boxes and ravaged books everywhere. I felt personally assaulted. Before having Rio I wandered upon Art History and fell immediately and wildly in love. I haven't had the time to pursue it in the least little bit since I naively signed up for the consuming job of parenthood. To see the books destroyed, literally turned to dust ... made me feel like *I* am disappearing. Little by little, holes chewed through, complete destruction in small but irrevocably lost locations.

*I am still not doing well with having no income. No control of the amount of money available to me at any moment. I've gone from 100% autonomy to, I can't describe it. Bear is awesome about never asking what I do with the money he gives me, but he still gives it to me. If I work I miss out on raising Rio. It's not like I could work fulltime ... so what would be the real benefit of parttime? And that lead me to think, "Hell. It's really not SO long. I'm in the home stretch of this incredibly tough, vitally important first 3 years. How lucky I could spend every day with her." I really do feel lucky. And old. I'll be about 45, 46 going 'back to work'. Fuck.

*On a happy note, I have an idea that is great. I am making myself do something every day toward making it happen. Or at least knowing that if it doesn't happen, I tried.

And now, it's time for laundry, breakfast, vacuuming, my reality. Usually, I'm thrilled with what I'm doing. The first few days of this week were just back to back 24 hour hits of 'where did I go?'.

8 comments:

Emma said...

I know what you mean about the money thing. It's awful having to ask for money all the time. Could you get Bear to give you an allowance? Sounds silly but at least you'll have money to spend or save as you wish.

the slackmistress said...

Eeeep, I so hear you on the money thing. But you ARE working, don't forget that.

Beth said...

Oh Nita, I totally hear you about the challenges of doing the parent/wife thing with a daily smile. Somedays it seems so painfully clear that I have traded in my own happiness for that of my family.

TL said...

No matter if you work or stay at home there is always an issue that you feel you are shorting someone. And the crappy thing of it all is that the Mom is the one who ends up shorting herself. If I am at work I feel like I need to be at home, and if I am at home I feel like I need to be at work. It is the true no win situation. If you can be afforded the opportunity to stay home with Rio then cherish that. You will get more out of it than any job will ever offer. This from the workaholic Mom of a 2 yr old that sometimes walks in from work in time to tuck her into bed. Yeah, I feel like shit all the time.

Barbara E. said...

Once we're out of the deep freeze, I'll bet you'll feel better. More sunlight (well, it will feel like more sunlight) as of Sunday! And 45 isn't old. I'm 45, and I'm not old. 46, now that's older than dirt.

Tuesday Girl said...

I understand on teh money front. When I was working if I wanted a pair of $100 jeans or to eat lunch out every day, I did it, no questions asked, now I feel too guilty.

I wish companies made it easier for Moms to work part time or job share.

nita said...

~em: it's one of the things on the table...but still...

~everyone be prepared to be in love with slackmistress :)

~beth: the days that feel like that are so tough. especially when that feeling of you traded in everything...

~babs: you're hot and brilliant. when are you visiting again? BU?! BC?! Haaavaaaaad??!!!

~tuesday: i know! i've never felt guilty in my life and i feel that way a LOT now!

thanks for the nice thoughts...

mamabear said...

Food for thought from The Elders: Big began teaching at Q.U. when he was 64. Ten years later he still adores his job and hopes to continue 'til he's 80. I have various plans for a career change within a year or 2 which will start me out at 65. Start a new career at 45? Just ONE new career? With your talents you can excel in several new careers at that tender age. Don't be blue: If I was in my 40's again I might be a rock star or an artist but maybe not a ballerina. Your smile is your best asset and you look so cute in it!