Tuesday – Confessions of a Mediocre Wife and Mother

[ninanevermore]

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Sometimes when I am in my car I fantasize about driving away and not coming home. Whatever highway I am on, I think about where I would end up if I just kept going. Interstate 45 would take me to Dallas if I head north, or I could drive to Galveston Island and then hop on a boat and take off into the Gulf of Mexico, never to be seen again on land. Interstate 10 would take me to San Antonio, where I could wander the River Walk, or New Orleans where I could lose myself in the French Quarter.

Then there all the smaller highways and byways I could travel. I once saw California, but I was on a business trip so I didn’t really get to explore anything. It might be fun to drive until I got to the historic Route 66 and see all the out of the way places it has to offer until it spit me out close to the Pacific Ocean. Or I could drive to Florida and then keep going once I reached the Atlantic coast, then travel along it all the way to New England. I hear it’s beautiful in the fall.

I don’t have a passport, so I can only run so far. Not only do I not have a passport, I don’t really have any money, so I can’t run at all.

"Look, chicks!" my son said last night as we were reading a bedtime story. He pointed to a picture in his library book of a chicken with 3 baby chicks at her feet.

"Uh-huh," I said.

"I bet they love their mommy, just like I love you." He puckered up his lips for a kiss.

I kissed him back and said, "I bet they do." He was smiling at me and his eyes were as bright as a clear summer sky. When he smiles like that he is so beautiful a child that he takes my breath away. I can't believe how much I love him; I never knew I could love anyone this much before he came along.

This morning on the way to work, I got a call from the girl at the YMCA before school program, which is no doubt about to tell me that my son is not welcome there anymore. There was an incident. He was with the school counselor (one of 3 adults who got kicked this morning). She just wanted to let me know. I thanked her.

I was told yesterday he rarely smiles at school. This means they don’t ever get to see how beautiful he is. How can they if he never smiles at them? How can they if all they see is an angry, screaming boy who either runs away from people or attacks them?

When I got to the intersection where I turn to go reach my office, something in the back of my mind reminded me that if I kept heading straight, I would reach the freeway. Once I reached the freeway, I could keep driving somewhere else - all kinds of places. Anywhere I wanted to go, until I ran out of gas and money. When that happened, I could lie down in a field somewhere and stare at the sky and think of someone else to be. Maybe someone more competent than I could step in and fix the things in my life that I seem unable to. Then I could start a career as a vagabond bag-lady and poet, with no responsibilities and no ties that bind. With no responsibilities, I couldn’t screw any of them up. With no ties, I couldn’t be pulled in a million different directions until I feel like I’m coming apart. I would be free in the Bobby McGee sense of the word. With nothing left to lose, I couldn’t worry about losing anything, including my mind, could I?

I turned at the intersection, though, and went to work. Here I sit, a would-be bag-lady poet disguised as a respectable working wife and mother. Part of me kept driving this morning, but not enough of me for anyone to notice that I'm gone. I look like I'm at work, but my heart is driving, driving, driving to someplace that isn't here. Someplace where I can either figure things out, or give up and call it quits.


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Comments

[writingmoments.livejournal.com]

I feel like this so often, especially when you said:

With no responsibilities, I couldn’t screw any of them up. With no ties, I couldn’t be pulled in a million different directions until I feel like I’m coming apart.

I used to feel guilty about wanting to leave but I actually read a study somewhere that said it is healthy to fantasize, that those who imagine leaving are actually less likely to "snap" and suddenly go crazy. Somehow, letting our minds consider leaving and where we would go helps gives us the energy to hang in there.

I hope the study is right because I know sometimes I think, "I could just keep on driving until I reach the ocean. Listen to what I want on the radio with no complaining in the back seat. Clean up only after myself for a change"

I'm praying for you. I wish I could offer more. If we ever get rich, let's do a road trip:)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

My mother used to threaten to run away all the time. She claimed none of us would know how to wash laundry or put the toilet paper on the spindle if she did. Then, instead of leaving, she would hide in the bathroom for hours at a time and read romance novels.

Girl, it's on. As soon one of us strikes it rich, we are hitting the road. :)

[noblwish.livejournal.com]

I know at least half-a-dozen families who all want to do an RV caravan down Route 66. Just drive up to Amarillo, flip a coin and go where ever the coin tells us. I think "Cars" did a lot to revitalize an interest in the Mother Road.

I, too, fantasize about running away. Occasionally, when Rich and I have had a nasty fight, I do run away... only I don't go too far. The last time, I drove Downtown at 9pm, had dinner at Whole Foods and took a long walk down 6th Street. Didn't go home 'til after Midnight. Phone battery died ranting to a friend, so nobody could call and find me. It was heaven! We had a nice talk the next day and things were better. And, yes... it does keep me from making much longer treks into insanity far, far away. :D

My grandmother used to escape to her boat for days on end. She's always been certifiably crazy, but at age 93, she hasn't killed anybody, yet, so I think the little escapes must work wonders.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

That's it: I need a boat. And an ocean to sail it on.

(and a pony...no wait, that's just me channeling Lyle Lovett)

[basketcaselady.livejournal.com]

If you lay in a field, bugs will probably crawl on you. And if you run away you will lose your health insurance and all your poetry sales will go to insulin. This is not a good plan.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

I'm out of good plans. The bug thing is annoying, but I'll survive it. I'll use my credit cards to buy insulin until my husband cuts them off. Then I'll probably have to come home and have a lot of explaining to do.

[sidneymintz.livejournal.com]

Wait a minute, who said you're screwing this up? You're a wonderful mom and a beautiful person, and you're doing a great job. Hang in there, something will come up to make it all better. Hope and Faith.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

I'm too scatterbrained, too play it by ear, too ADD to get a grip on this. I'm barely competent to raise a "normal" child. This is like accepting a job as a receptionist, and then showing up one day and finding out they expect you to be the CEO; the job you know how to do is not the job you're being asked to perform.

When hope and faith run short, it's just nice to think I could keep driving if push came to shove.

[sidneymintz.livejournal.com]

Well I'm a secretary and I feel like I'm running the show most of the time. At a quarter of the salary :)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

Yeah, same here. :P

[millysdaughter.livejournal.com]

**hugs**

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

thank you.

[skeletaltime.livejournal.com]

I know what you mean - I guess it's slightly morbid, but at times I used to envision myself just pulling a sharp left into and through the barrier at a spot on 45 near downtown. It wasn't an actively suicidal thought, just a mild compulsion that consisted of the thought of my car beautifully sailing through the air and away from all the stress I was dealing with on a day to day basis.

It's perfectly okay to have those fantasies, it doesn't make you a bad mom or wife. I'm sending you stay-strong vibes and an imaginary glass of wine since I'm betting you'll allow yourself to imbibe in the imaginary sort of alcohol. ;)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

A dive off of the Pierce Elevated into Buffalo Bayou? I can understand the temptation of that spot. Or at least that place would be my pick. Or is there another place on 45 you found more tempting?

The fantasies are nice. I think our brains like to know there are options. Not socially or morally acceptable options, but options, nonetheless. Some times cold comfort like that is all you can afford.

[skeletaltime.livejournal.com]

Yep, that is exactly the spot I'm thinking of. I feel a little less weird now. ;)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

Umh, having something in common with the likes of me does not in any way disqualify you from being weird. I'm just saying. ;)

[mpacket.livejournal.com]

I read this earlier today and thought, "wow, that was excellent. That really articulates some things that are important to me." And then I came home and [I'll spare you the anger and frustration] and I re-read this and it saved my last shred of sanity. So. Thanks. Fwiw my friend G had a similar day. Maybe it's going around :/

"Part of me kept driving this morning" - that's a poetic line I can get behind.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

It's nice to know I'm not the only one. Sometimes I think I'm in this boat alone, and in a sense that may be true. Then I look around and find there are hundreds of boats just like mine, out there, all manned by a woman thinking "I'm the only one in this boat." I think we all need to row to an island somewhere and have a party. :)