...
Remembering Me
I wake in the morning, rub my eyes and try to decipher which child's cry I hear. I can immediately eliminate Katie as she has climbed into my bed sometime in the night, sidled herself next to me and pushed me to the very edge of my bed.
I hear the cry again and determine that it is Megan, not so much crying as alerting me that she is ready to depart her crib.
I get up, feel the familiar pulls and spasms that remind me I have a bad back each day. Three c sections with epidurals plus an extra thirty - five pounds has sent my back into early rigormortis that usually takes half a day of picking up children and toys to work itself out. I should go see someone... I'll add it to my list.
I stop on the way to rescue Megan from baby jail and take my meds. Yet another reminder that I am approaching middle age faster than I can down a twelve pack. I sweep my short hair up into a nubbin for the 998th day in a row, examine my eyebrows that are about 8 trips overdue for waxing, analyze how much longer I can go with my lip hair before people call me a man, and sigh.
I used to be so pretty. And I know I am not hideous now, but if you look at my pictures from five years ago, I am clean, tidy, and refreshed looking. My hair is trimmed and fixed, my nails painted and buffed, my feet are soft and unable to sand deck boards just by walking on them. My legs are shaved, my waist fits in a size 8 and my skin is clear. I used to put on at least a spot of make- up on daily basis. And if I didn't, it was ok. Because my skin was tight, soft and a reason I was carded to buy beer.
I took time for myself, took pride in myself and cared how I presented myself to the world. I had confidence that I was in style, looked sharp and took good care of myself. My car was clean, my house was spotless and my husband was weeelllll taken care of, if you get my drift.
I went to the dentist twice a year, went to the Doctor the second I felt sick, and took my vitamins like a good girl. I was a priority.
I see myself now and wonder what happened to that carefree, fun loving girl. The one that would hop on a plane to Vegas or New York just because I didn't have any other plans. The one that could tell you more about wine, trendy restaurants and bars than any local paper could.
I look in the mirror these days and see a shell of my former self. My skin had aged and is tired looking, my hair is graying - shhh - don't tell my husband, I tell him he's the only one! I need a haircut, tweezing, waxing and shaving. I need a shower for Heaven's sake! My fingernails are broken, my feet are just plain scary and I think I am wearing the same shirt for the third day in a row.
I am - much - heavier and for the first time in my life my stomach enters the room before my boobs. That's not a drain on my self confidence at all. No - I am healthy like that. I have tried to lose it. It keeps finding me. Damned built in GPS system.
My house is a mess, my car is reprehensible and I can't seem to find the time to get either of them to any sort of order. My husband is not as well taken care of thus meaning I am not so well taken care of. If you get my drift.... again.
I have not been to the Dentist in 3 years, and except for an Obstetrician, I have not idea what condition my health is in. Oh, except for a back Doctor about a year ago. I could not move for 24 hours after. I can't wait to go back.
The last place I traveled to was Wal- mart and I could not tell you if a bottle of wine is from Australia or Calamazoo. I have no idea what restaurants are even in this town, well - except McDonald's - I know where all of those are in a 10 mile radius. The last bar I went to was called Dusty's or Darby's or something like that and had half sized pool tables and full priced watered down drinks. It was the closest one to home in case the sitter called.
These days the closest I get to being hip, trendy and cool is Friends reruns and buying Huggies Jeans diapers for my baby. Plus, I jump into the totally awesome category when I alert my friends of a good clearance sale on children's clothing! I am really surprised there is no E! True Hollywood Story on me.
But, as I get back to reality, I suppose it is all relative. Life is meant to change, evolve and take you in different directions. Staying in the same daily routine can be boring and uneventful.
I take a deep breath and head out to Megan's room, stepping over toys, clothes and shoes promising I will get this house clean today. I will fail, but at least I have high hopes. A four tooth grin greets me and I know that trumps any jackpot I could have hit in Vegas.
I hear Sarah coming out of her room, pull- up so full it sags past her knees. Her hair in knots from twirling it through the night. I inhale deeply because I know there will be crying and pain when I attempt to remove the knots from her hair. She alerts me that she has, again, peed in her bed and tells me to "Change it." I know I should correct her for her bossiness
but she is just so darned cute that I can't get up the energy to do it.
Katie comes down the hall, heads to her room, ignores my Good Morning, closes her door and signals that my day has, indeed, begun. I smile and think, this is only the beginning of the drama queen that will attempt to reign supreme for years to come.
I suppose I have learned that in order to properly tend to my children and have a somewhat sane day, I had to put memories of my old self aside. Even my aching back, tiredness and hair do will have to wait for another time. And instead of feeling like I need to spend my entire day just trying to find time to myself, I have to just face reality and give 24/7 to my children.
I remain confident that they will appreciate this and make sure my Nursing Home has an open bar.
After changing diapers, pull- ups and sheets, settling fights between Katie and anyone who enters her room, attempting knot untangling from Sarah's hair and picking up Megan for the bejillionth time, I am lost in my new reality.
A reality that I fully accept and appreciate more than I'd like to admit. I love my little drama queens - tantrums, personality disorders and all. More than my past freedoms, lavish trips and extensive bar tabs. I love them more than the me that I used to be.
But as I take time to remember me, I pray that I can guide my girls to create the woman that they will be proud to look back on too.
...
So true right?
