Worthwhile.

Do I ever really know who I am or where I am going in this life?

The version of my former self, my interests, my friends, my life.... my schooling, my career, my family... how has that all changed?

My minute to minute interests have changed. Whereas I used to be interested in scouring vintage shops for cool cheap clothes, now I empty the dishwasher and pick up toys. I used to sit for hours on the phone with friends, now I spend hours watching cartoons like Toopy Binoo and Cars and Lion King. Or at least listen to it in the background while I fold laundry.

Days are good days when John does not act up, when he is not whining or grumpy, and when we manage to get out of the house for at least a little while. The park. The mall. The grocery store.

Good days used to be having carefree fun with friends, hanging out for hours without any responsibilities, other than the science homework due the next day.

In University I had fun, but was mostly engaged in studying, learning, accomplishing good grades. This made me feel fulfilled. There were social benefits as well.

When I first moved out, I still defined myself as a studier, a worker, working towards my CMA.

The job sucked though.

But the apartment rocked. I had such fun there, living close to the river valley, just off the Ave, surrounded by large trees and lots of history.

I love my kids more than life itself, but sometimes I find myself getting lost in it. Who am I becoming now? Where is the time for me? What about what my passions or interests? What am I even interested in now?

All I know is that I feel like I should be striving for more, that I need to accomplish more or do more or learn more, while I am here on this planet. Watching another episode of Pokoyo or Poko or Rollie Pollie Ollie is not going to do it for me. I need to feel engaged, like my mind is pondering something significant, worthwhile.

I just need to figure out where to start.

Turtle

While changing John's diaper, hours after picking him up from a sleep over at Grandma's:

John: Grandma says I got a turd.

Me: Really?

John: Yes, turtles come out of my bum.

Conversations, words, and jokes

Here is a snippet of the things John the boy says:


As he walks sleepily into my room, first thing in the morning:

John: I had a bad dream.

Me: What did you dream about?

John: Funny guys were tickling me.


If he senses that I am mad or upset or frustrated with him:

John: Are you happy?


As he yawns, and strains to keep his eyes open when we are driving:

Me: Are you tired?

John: no.

Me: Are you a little bit tired?

John: no. (30 seconds later he is asleep)


In being tricked not to say no:

John: no.

Me: yes.

John: no.

Me: yes.

John: no.

Me: no.

John: YES!


Here are some words and their translations:

Grasberries = rasberries
Bacuum = Vacuum
Vroom = Broom
Candles = Sandles
Yittle boy who yives down the yane = Little boy who lives down the lane
Gwink = drink
bejables = vegetables


Here are some jokes:

Ba Ba black sheep have you any Cheerios?
Yes sir, yes sir three bags full.

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high, like a monkey in the sky...


I love it.

In common

The four of us were the best of friends.

We traveled Europe together, went to University together, had late night talks about old boyfriends together. We were like four peas in a pod.

Ten years later, some of us are married, some of us have kids. We see each other still, from time to time, and when we do, I realize how different we really are. How different our lives are now.

One of us did not marry, did not have kids, did not end up living in the same city as the other three. The others did. Two of the others married very financially successful husbands, and now live in very large houses, each employ a cleaning lady and neither work outside of the home.

The third other, is me. Sometimes I feel different from the two others, in that they have money and options, and a certain status financially that I do not have. For the first time tonight, I felt like I was in a different, I don't know, level than them. Different class. In the Jane Austen version of the world, I may not be a "conexxion" worth maintaining. I did not like it. They have the financial ability to do certain things that I cannot do, or probably never do. They own gigantic houses.

This difference is not one that is due to personal professional success. In fact, neither of them are really working right now, where as I am. The difference is solely due to who they married. Had either of them married differently, they could have been more like me.

I am not really jealous, I just feel sort of silly sometimes in the areas of the conversation, when they talk about the interior designer that they have coming in, or the landscape designer, or the cleaning lady, or all the new furniture they bought. I don't have that in common, and they have that in common with each other.

So it is silly really, it should not matter, but it kind of bugs me, since we started off all as equals in University, and now we are just not. I don't know if they judge me, or feel sorry for me, I am sure they don't, yet it still bugs me. I am tired of having to justify in my mind that our house works for us, that it has many good points that offset the fact that it is relatively small, that I would rather live here, with all the side benefits, than in a gigantic house somewhere else. Would I really? Or am I just justifying it, given that there is not really a choice. Well there is a choice, but that would mean having a mortgage again, and possibly having to work full time, and most importantly, having to do all the little things around the house that make it your own, like painting and landscaping and hanging new closets and sewing new draperies, and everything that it has now taken us almost 6 years to do. So no. I don't really want to move. Or maybe I am just justifying it again.

And I don't really want to be that large scale consumer that leaves a large scale footprint on the earth, due to my large scale house.

Or so I tell myself.

Really it should not matter. But I still sometimes secretly wish that we were more the same, that we all had more in common. It is the common-ness that makes you feel connected to this world, to other people, to friends.

He's Sick

Why is it that when I am sick, I still get up at 7:00 am with the kids, make breakfast, lunch and dinner, and still manage to be somewhat cheerful throughout the day? When he is sick, I receive a grunt to my "good morning", and then the silent treatment until he leaves the house without saying goodbye.

Annoying.