No fun in Mudville tonight

So. After four months of waiting. After four months of painful guessing, we heard today. E's job that he was hired for in Clackamas won't be able to take him on because their funding was cut. Even though he has interviewed for other jobs since we were told the job might not be funded (which was why we chose not to move until something was finalized), we were still hoping for this job. The perfect job for him, the chance to go back to school for me. A new start. Away from all the crap in this place.

I was surprised that I didn't just go nuts when he told me. I've been wound sooooo tightly, I was sure that I would just start yelling and crying; but I didn't. I told him I was sorry he was missing out on the job and kissed him goodbye as he headed back to work after lunch. I thought I would just wait until Q was in bed for his nap before I let myself whine and carry on.

But when the time came to do it, I just didn't want to. This whole situation has made me a nervous wreck, has destroyed what confidence I had left, and left me more in hate with this town than I was before. The mountains that surround this town make me feel trapped, trapped with only two ways out.

I've held off on so many things thinking that we were going to be gone soon. A part-time job. School. Q's first dentist appointment. A new pediatrician for Q (his just retired). Why get a bunch of things started when we were just going to move???

Now, it just seems like wasted time. All the boxes in the basement that I packed thinking it would have to be done soon, anyway. All that worry. All that anticipation. And nowhere for it to go.

And the choice is....compassion!!!!

Found myself wanting to lash out this week. A friend, a close, close, friend, didn't call me on my birthday. Or send a card. Or come by. Nothing. Nada. The silence was deafening, really.

So, I let it go for a few days and then found myself composing a "Dear Laura" letter in my head. It was going to be short, sweet and to the point: you aren't a good friend, you have become distant, and I don't wanna be your friend (do you hear the whining yet??). It felt good to get the anger out. Even if it was only in my head.

And then I had a thought. This woman watched my child being born. This woman was the one person, during a very difficult time at work, was the only one I could be assured of her loyalty and friendship. This woman and I had laughed, gaffawed, hooted, yelled and cried through so many amazing events. I love her like a sister. Just because my feelings were hurt because she had been neglecting our friendship since we had stopped working together, didn't mean that writing her out of my life was the thing that needed to be done. I had a little epiphany in my head - I needed to reach out to her with love, not with this anger that was due to hurt.

So, in her birthday card she got the most heart-felt letter I could write. I told her I wanted to reconnect, wanted our relationship to be close again.

The next day she called and came over with the card and present she had had on my birthday, but hadn't brought by or sent. We talked for a long time, and after she left, I found a letter to me in my card. It made me cry, and it proved to me, once again, that reacting from the worst part of myself, from pain and hurt, rarely gets me what I want.

Being mama and human at the same time

I'm playing nice on my family blog. Keeping it upbeat (as much as possible with my glass-is-almost-empty tendencies), trying to keep it clean. Always the focus on my sweet Little Man, making sure his days are there for friends and family to see. And I'm having fun with it. Really. I like to see what people (as few as there may be) have to say, and enjoy getting calls or emails about how people are checking in on it regularly to see what's going on. Silly me - I always assume no one is interested.

But. My life is a confluence of things right now that have me baffled and off kilter. If I'm honest, it's really been since my son was born, or at least after his first year. I turned 40 last year. My dearest friend (and walking partner and chosen sister) moved away when he was five months old, leaving me a bit emotionally destitute. My husband struggled through his master's thesis, and that painful process was not life affirming, especially since it happened while I nursed and nursed our chubby, insistent baby. I stopped working to stay home with the Super Sucker after working since I was 11. I got fat after baby, then finally got thinner. Oh, did I mention, I turned 40??

Things that I avoided dealing with, childhood deficits, repercusions of decisions, all seemed to gang up on me and rush me, knocking me to the ground. I think I banged my head. Having this gift of a child enter my life forced it all up into my face. If you don't deal with why you are the way you are, how events have shaped you, then you cannot parent with some purpose. One of my biggest nightmares is waking up when Little Man is 20, not knowing why I did the things I did with him; how will I explain it to him if I don't know waht it is??

I didn't expect this, this isolation that comes with being at-home mom. I'm sure I fantasized about the big group of mamas I would be a part of. All of us with kids, trading stories, tips, child care, hanging out at each other's homes, chatting on the phone. I just figured it came with the territory. I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead I have had some of my loneliest and darkest moments.

I suppose I want a place to go beneath all the daily stuff that comes with motherhood. There really is a dark underbelly, one that rarely sees the light of day. As much joy as my son has brought me, as much insight as he has unleashed in my life, there is an equal amount of uncertainty and confusion.

That's what this is.