All By Myself

[Warning: This post contains extreme negativism. Do not read if using MAOIs, antihistimines, beer or have been placed on a suicide watch in the state pen]

Today is the day that happens more and more frequently. It's the kind of day where nothing has happened, nothing is happening and nothing is going to happen. It's the worst kind of day for someone like me. It's the day where I fight every urge to pack up the car and go. It's the day where I finally get the baby to sleep without being on me to take a quick shower for the first time in three days (gross!) and find I'm out of soap halfway through. It's the day when I feel like a single woman who's married, only I don't have the benefits of full-decision making and personal finances.

"This," I hiss through clenched, partially whitened teeth (cuz the baby woke up halfway through and the mouthpiece scared him badly), "is exactly why I said that if we weren't going to move to Narragansett then we should move to Minnesota." Not, as my husband tends to forget which 'm' state I come from, because it's my home. It isn't. It's because that's where my relatives are. Read: support system.

I am not as strong as I need to be. There are people - women with children - who are able to go through life and it's bumps and detours without a support system...but why do that if you don't have to? What's so wrong living somewhere with a lower cost of living, loved ones whose company I enjoy and a freakin' Taco Bell, for cripes sakes? Is it so terrible to want to see my loved ones on a regular basis? Are Nachos Bell Grande the anti-christ's breakfast? Does it make me a weaker person to say that I need a break sometimes, some help sometimes, someone to take care of me every great once in a while? I am so scared that this stress I can't seem to get control of will give me a stroke or heart attack...who will find me? What will happen to the baby? Who will take care of my children if I end up in the emergency room?

My relatives are good people. A little mid-western bible belt, sure. Yeah, they help make up the 36% that still approve of Bush, but despite that, they're honest to God, down to earth, somewhat mentally healthy, right with The Man, GOOD people. Why not raise my children with them? Why not let the goodness of my cousin's children work a little mojo magic on them? Why not let them grow up in music, laughter, admiration, support, the church and Auntie M's Peanuts collection? Why does wanting all this make me such a hideous person?

I love my aunt and uncle. My aunt has become "the family" to me. I admire her strength and modesty - not to mention her wicked sense of humor and moral superiority. I would like to spend time with my uncle, who looks so much like my mother (only a heckuva lot taller - with really gnarled toes), before nature takes him away from me. I want the close friendship with my cousin, whom I adore and follow like a puppy dog. She is so cool to me. And she needs me. She needs me to remind her how amazing she really is. She needs me to sit in her kitchen and drink coffee and bitch about my thighs as I help myself to another cinnamon bun.

I am the kind of person who needs, and appreciates, a support system. I am not cut out to deal with a toddler who doesn't sleep (and has lead issues plus a nasty cold), a teenager in major transition, a house that needs to be rennovated but will settle for painting and "de-leading", cats, mice, phone calls to attorneys, applications for this and that, car registration, the need to pee by myself every so often and a pressing need to have my eyes checked and my teeth cleaned without some kind of help.

It's not that I'm overwhelmed...it's just that I'm beyond my personal capabilities. I would like to let the baby sleep in the morning, instead of rousing him an hour before normal waking time. I'd like to let the baby take a full nap, instead of having to wake him up to go get Sissy. I'd like to tell my daughter 'yes, I'll pick you up from the dance at 9" instead of, "see if you can get a ride home with someone so I don't have to wake your brother up." I'd like to see a movie, or go out to dinner without a sippie cup and banana puffies in my bag. I'd like to do right by my children, including providing them with good examples. I want to actually enjoy holidays without doing it all by myself and spend Christmas with someone who knows that it's about more than presents. (It's about food, right?) And I would like to be somewhere when, if I cry next to somebody for 15 minutes, they actually notice.

That being said...there's a pair of blue eyes staring up at me and two small arms who have snaked around my neck so that chubby fingers can play with my hair. So I'm going to take some time away from my pity party to sing and tickle - maybe I'll even color the couch with large, non-toxic crayons.

I am grateful for what I have. I just wish I could share all of it. Not just the burdens...but that'd help.

Well, hell, they don't call us mules for nothin', right?