Turn The Knife A Little Deeper

-
Conversation with M today:

M:  I'm sorry the government didn't close.
Me: What?!! Why would you say that?
M: Well, last time it happened, you were home every day after school.  We baked and cooked and played games.  You were a full time mom.
Me: Sigh....That's true.  But it was hard for us.
M:  But we made it through.  And I liked it.

This conversation came about two hours after a similar conversation with my mom:

Mom: I wish you didn't work so much.
Me: I don't work 60 weeks any more. I often don't work 40 hours.
Mom: No, but between work, kids, appointments, activities, responsibilities, you don't have a lot of time.
Me: That's true.  But you still see me every week, sometimes several times a week.
Mom: Yeah.  But I miss you.

I can't help but feel I'm doing something wrong.  No one is happy and I feel like a mouse on one of those running wheels.  I'm doing a ton of shit and no one - including me - is liking it.

There has got to be a better way.  Cloning isn't an option.  Moving isn't a great option (and not on the table right now).  I'm open to ideas.  Anyone?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's not a bucket, it's a can

-
Image
I think something is wrong with me.  Other people have have goals.  Bucket Lists.  Must-do things.  I don't really have that. Well, I sort of do. I've been thinking about this for a few weeks, ever since Alissa over at www.clevercompass.com came up with the idea of doing a post about our bucket lists.  I feel like there's something wrong with me.  I have never had a bucket list. Now, that said, I've had a few things that I've always wanted to do.  I've come up with three I'll make public and one that is a secret.  When I make that one happen, I'll announce it from the rooftops.  Trust me. My bucket list items are pretty simple.  They all involve travel.  I would like to go to three places: Prague, Puerto Rico and Croatia.  In that order.  I'd actually like to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower, too. I don't want to jump out of a plane, climb a mountain or find the world's biggest roller coaster and not throw up o...
Read more

A Life Well Lived....so far

-
Huh.  Alissa over at Clever Compass and the other bloggers came up with another stumper for me:  what have I do with my life that makes me feel proud.  Funny, one of my girls asked me about that the other day.  Finding an answer to that question is kinda hard. So let me see what I can come up with. Hmmmm.....what am I proud of?  Oh!  I have a few! I started my first business, Discovery Records, at the age of 19 with a $250 investment from my brother. I scared myself silly by flying to Poland to meet a guy I dated for about a month 6 years earlier when I did a short student exchange program in Germany.  We met in Poland (yes, we recognized each other) and went to the Warsaw Ghetto and Auschwitz and Austria (and a bunch of other places) so I could see where my family lived and possibly died. I've interpreted for Paul McCartney (a few times!), at one of President Clinton's Inaugural Balls, for Mrs. Clinton, for the births of 8 babies, THE CURE!!...
Read more

Being grateful

-
I had an argument the other day with M.  "You don't understand what it's like to have to share everything!" she yelled at me.  She's right.  I don't.  "We're the only ones in our class who haven't been to Paris!"  Well, that's tough for you, isn't it?  Since when does an 11 year old have a right to expect things like a trip to Paris, an iPad or any other electronic or a big ass house?  I left that conversation mad at her and mad at me.  Clearly, I am failing in this area as a parent.  Overall, I think I do a good job.  But this kid does not understand how to be GRATEFUL for what she has.  i don't get it. My friends tell me this is just the beginning of puberty hitting.  After getting so freaking mad at her, she has changed her tune a bit.  She doesn't like me mad, that's for sure.  I am pretty open with my kids about things - I can't buy what I want when I want because I have to be responsible and make sure things ...
Read more