I’m feeling sad today, and missing my two Things.
I know I made the decision to come be here, and Thing 1 isn’t at ‘home’ anyway, and Thing 2 decided she was no longer interested in having me participate in her daily goings on…but I find myself missing the daily life stuff.
YBW and I were looking at tile for the impending kitchen remodel and stopped on the way back home for subs, when we sat down, I got teary realizing how much I dislike not being around my girls.
Something as simple as ordering subs and having Thing 1 build a big ol’ salad on the teeniest amount of meat and cheese then drowning it in oil and vinegar, and Thing 2 with just ham and cheese with a bit of honey mustard and mayo…these are just silly things that make me love being their mom.
Here’s something nobody ever thinks to tell you, the silly things are the most important.
I love being the ‘mom at this house’ for Thing C and Thing G.
(Thing G used that phrase, we all went to see the Lego Movie when it came out, we all being YBW, the Things, their mom, stepdad, and uncle, and he wanted to sit between “the two girls” that way he would be beside the “mom of each house”.)
But it just isn’t the same as being the mom of my own two Things. For starters, I honestly do not understand boys. They are an enigma to me…not to mention all that testosterone!
I long for girlie contact! Estrogen fueled giggles and television/movie watching, shoe and clothes shopping. My niece, Girlie Thing works for that most times…I’m practically her mom, too…but she’s very tied up with sports and her friends and, well…her own mom that we don’t actually get to do it as often as either of us like.
It’s not about a ‘date’ though it’s about the every day. Those weird phone calls that start out with, “Mommy, can you swing by Publix or Bi Lo on your way home?” And end with a list of the most ridiculous things from sushi (They assure me the premade at Publix is pretty decent in a pinch, I don’t eat sushi.) to grape juice and chocolate Pop Tarts. Or random Saturday morning quickies in our pajamas to Waffle House because Thing 2 and I were lazy and didn’t feel like making breakfast. Or just being with one or both of them, because it’s natural and we’re a part of each other, conversing without having to speak, a look or gesture or trademark silly face that means so much. Or a lifetime of memories that mean nothing to anyone but us. Or a house full of girls doing hair and make-up in both bathrooms…or all the kids hanging out on the sofa with sodas and pizza because even though we didn’t live on the lake like most of their friends, it was the ‘coolest’ place to hang out. (6 teenagers and a hammer, anyone?)
I am where I belong. Of this I have no doubt. And most days I’m happily engaged in this new life I’m building. But there are those times, like now, when I long for my ‘other’ life…the one where I’m the mom of my own Things and not having to share somebody else’s Things.
Clearly I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself today. Perhaps it will pass quickly because honestly, I don’t think I have the patience to be sad about Jersey Mike’s sandwiches much longer.
I had a day like that recently too. Isn’t it ironic that we feel sad about happy times?
Maybe we should re-frame the thoughts as happy thoughts and ‘I am so glad that I lived those happy times’ thoughts.