Inspiration

I have been rather uninspired lately. I have a fine marriage, four outstandingly deliciously wonderful children, health and happiness, what more could a person want? I am completely aware of all that, but in spite of it all, I am uninspired. Nothing has touched me enough to want to write about it. Perhaps that makes me ungrateful for what I have. Or maybe I am just content. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with just being content.

Time Out

I need a time out. I need a day with no appointments, no cell phones, no PalmPilot and no responsibilites. I need a beach with bright blue water. And a Mai Tai. And a steamy novel. And a masseuse. Manicures, pedicures and my favorite music would be nice too. But at the end of the day I need the craziness. I need my kids, even yelling and whining. I need the hugs and kisses. I need the insanity.

You Pick

We all make very deliberate decisions about the company in which we find ourselves. You do not spend time with another person unless you have specifically chosen to do so, and you do not continue to keep his or her company unless, somewhere in your mind, the benefit outweighs the risk. It is in this vein that I bid adieu to the time that I have chosen to spend with some acquaintences/neighbors. I have made a conscious decision to end the pain and hurt that has been caused by these people. The pain that has been inflicted upon me and my children as well. Because fair-weather friends who lie right to my face are, indeed, no friends at all. Friends who take painstaking effort in excluding my children from ice cream parties and other such events are, indeed, no friends of mine. I hate to have enemies, after all, I am a very friendly and social person, but it took me 34 years to learn that not everyone wants to be my friend. And that it OK. Because they would just use me (and my children) anyway.

Control

Lately I have found being an adult to be a great challenge. It is not that I don't enjoy the freedoms that come along with being 34 years old, but the responsibilities are daunting. When the responsibilities are not met, I feel as though my life spins out of control. As a very young child I had a recurrent dream of being caught in the vortex of a tornado. This dream has been somewhat indicative of what my life of an adult is like. When the sink piles high with dishes, I feel powerless over the caked on dirt and set-in oil. When the kids are all tired, snotty, whining, yelling and crying, my brains spin out of control. I want to run into a closet and cover my ears with fluffy pillows. Not unlike the way that, as a child, I avoided homework until the last minute, when it was all too overwhelming for me. I need to figure out a way to get over the overwhelmingness of it all and concentrate on living my life in a way that I can control it, as a responsible adult.

The Jury is Out

Everyone knows that being judgemental (unless, of course, you happen to be a judge) is wrong. Step into Jane's shoes. Slide your feet deep into them so that your toes line up with the indentations in the soles where Jane's toes have worn the fabric thin. They seem to fit quite nicely until you decide to run a marathon, when you realize that the shoes that Jane wears will never completely fit you the way they fit Jane. This is because you have never walked all of the roads that Jane has walked. And though you may have had similar experiences, you have never loved in the way that Jane loves, you have never hurt in the way that Jane hurts and you have never laughed Jane's laugh. And she has never been you. We all know this to be true on some level, and I know that I feel the terrible injustices of the world when Jane judges me. Yet we all continue to sit on a lofty steed and we continue to judge our friends. We judge our employers. We love to judge our housekeepers when they miss a spot under the table. Gossip is the bastard son of judgement. The unspoken phrase after every "do you believe it?" is "and I would NEVER do such a thing!" Having the knowledge that I am oh so much better than Jane because I wouldn't think of stooping to her level is such a delicious feeling that I just need to share it with 40 or 50 of my closest friends. And then when I turn around and commit a crime similar to Jane's, the circumstances, of course, seem so very different to me. But not to Jane and 40 or 50 of her closest friends who cannot believe what I have done. And the cycle continues.