Thursday, August 26, 2010


i've always struggled with thinking that i'm not good enough. always. not smart enough, not funny enough- or certainly not certain about what IS funny, not pretty enough, skinny, curvaceous, laid back, strict... what have you...
its been all the more difficult (read: struggle struggle strain struggle... ) because i can't find something to blame outside of my own self.  I have a distant mother, sort of, but I can't blame her or my ex-military randomly-raging father.  It just doesn't ring true.  Nor all the boyfriends, not them either. or the old girl friends who went their ways....
nobody to blame. 
damn straight.
except my loser-ass self.

imagine my horror at finding that stay at home motherhood does not, in and of itself, do anything to assuage the feelings of 'loser-ass self.'      nothing.      nothing but a fairly frequent rain of abuse from the children, and a radically different marriage than I thought I was getting.... They all love me and cuddle me too, yes, but often i get the other end of the spectrum, as kids are kids and slightly rambunctious and husbands are much more than the 'otherone' at the wedding.  plus, there is the constant need, THE CONSTANT NEEEEEEED.
nothing but a fairly frequent rain of abuse from society. get a job. be productive. stop eating your bonbons and watching your soaps and get a job.

my son goes to kindergarten a week from tomorrow.  I am not going to get a job.  In the past two weeks his voice has been cracking with sadness at least once each day.  How could I let someone else be there for that? those conversations have wrung my heart and catupulted him into new stages of awareness. . . my god, i got to watch this kid metamorphose into another person than I gave birth to... same skin, new being. It is going to keep happening and I'm going to keep watching- loser that I am. . .

so damn lucky.


Jen said...

Oh you. You've gone and described my very life, damn it. Get a job, lose some weight but not your boobs, be sure you are home for your tweenager but make some money while you are at it. Don't cry kindergartener, this is good for you. I'll miss you more than you miss me. And btw, what are we having for dinner? That's the conversation I had with myself over coffee. I'm not inviting myself to coffee ever again.

Valerie said...

Wow. Love this post as well. The pains I have to look forward to--the pleasures, too. Thanks for being so...well, not so damn figured out.