My People

My People
My matched set of grandchildren - Oliver and Cosette

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

aspiring to greater mediocrity

I think the funk of yesterday has been washed away and a new peace has settled in... life is funny like that. I was so isolated over the weekend... self-imposed, truthfully, because I wanted to make sure that I was over the strep thing, that I got enough rest and didn't expose anyone else... but it was lonely.

In constrast... last night I had a living room full of young men playing Wii... throwing animal crackers at each other... and Austin's girly giggles kept wafting into my room. He has a ridiculous giggle... and he was giggling constantly last night. All mothers know that you are happiest when your kids are happy... and I knew for sure last night that at least one of my babies was happy.

In a way... it makes it all worthwhile. Not to sound like a Jewish mother or anything... but this is what has driven me for the past (almost) 24 years... I've worked towards raising happy kids. And... it really seems that all of my kids are happy. I didn't work as hard, unfortunately, at making sure mommy was happy. I'll spend the next 24 years working on that, I guess.

I mean... I've got a lot of life left, Lord willing. I started the whole mommy thing really young and I had to learn to adapt to that life... while my friends were going to college... I was visiting the obstetrician. I was the youngest mommy at the preschool. I was the youngest mommy at the ballfield... and then, slowly, I grew into that life. I learned how to do the PTA thing... how to negotiate the ballpark politics... this is just another adjustment period.

The nest is emptier than I thought it would be.... but as long as I'm in it, I'll feather it nicely. I always tease my overachieving sister in law that she should "aspire to greater mediocrity"... and the truth is... I excel at being average. I'm not the best mom ever (although Cody used to tell me I was... usually whenever he wanted something)... but I'm also not the worst. I've done a decent job. I'll be awesomely average at this stage of life as well.

The bathtub drain is stopped up. I need to catch up on laundry. My living room needs vacuuming. I'm behind on my homework for my Wednesday night bible study. I haven't met my sales goals for the year. I am constantly behind on my bills. I complain too much. I don't exercise enough. But... I wake up every morning hopeful, optimistic, enthusiastic (usually).

One of Austin's buddies that was hanging out with us last night was musing that his mom was mad at him because he didn't want to go to Walmart with her. Mom, like me, is single. I told him that sometimes... we just don't want to have to be alone. I'm not sure it's fair that we ask our kids to keep us company... but there's a lot about being a single parent household that isn't fair. I've made a commitment to Austin that we will stay put and that I won't date until he graduates. We're a year and a half away from graduation, Lord willing. I think... ultimately... the least he can do is keep me company every now and then. It gets lonely.

I think this post is a lot of dog chasing it's tail. I don't know if it even makes sense. I guess the point is that there's a lot of excessive mediocrity going on in my life right now. No dramatic valleys... no dramatic mountaintop experiences. I'm getting by. I'm putting one foot in front of the other every day and I think that's very acceptible.

And I still haven't found my drivers license.

3 comments:

cyndi said...

I was always the youngest mother everywhere too . So much so that I never fit in with other mothers . I was always the outcast teen mother who got shunned at the park. I was pregnant with my second while my high school class was graduating.

Christina said...

Hey Heather, I am following your progress now. I need to start blogging too. Need to find the time. Keep going with WW. I am at a loss of 49 lbs and 11.6 to go.
Christina

Becky said...

Makes total sense. I've been a single mom for a long time, too. It's a hard road and often thankless except for those nice things like hearing your kids laugh. It sure would be nice, though, to have someone to share the burdens and the joys with, to be a team with, to hug and talk about the day with. If I could just hear someone tell me sincerely that everything was going to be okay, I'd be so grateful that I'd probably start to cry.