Tuesday, January 8, 2008

I am mother-ish

I think I've discovered the problem with my parenting.

I sat next to my children at the kitchen table, and realized that
I feel so damned out of control because my children are just
gelatinous blobs of goo that I gave squeezed off myself and are now
somehow living next to me. I still feel the need to control what
they do much is the same way I need to control what I do...
We are like an amoeba, except in revearse.
We are like a bowl of Christmas Jello that was left on the counter
too long, we are melting and separating at an alarming rate.

I know that my children feel it, too. Judging by how much of their
flesh must come in contact with my flesh at any given moment throughout
the day. It's like we are trying to get our cells to rejoin into one
gooey girl blob.

We are a wet and messy bunch.

12 comments:

Caroline C. Bingham said...

so glad that I'm not the only one that has this problem.

TheOneTrueSue said...

Ha! Love it. Except my son is the blog these days. He wants me to hold him, wants to crawl all over me, jump on me, permanently attach himself to my person.

Rose said...

What a great description--I remember those days. Also, great post about weight. I grew up skinny so that's the body image in my head, but I'm heavier now than I've ever been and I hate it. Trying to put movement into my everyday life but it's too slow. Good luck and I'll keep trying too!

lisa {milkshake} said...

As I type this, my little one is sitting next to me, glued to my left arm. It's really hard to type like this, by the way.

Good luck on the weight loss. Sounds like you're doing everything to be skinny again!

Patti said...

when boy was a babe i felt that uncontrollable separation almost instantly.

the only way i survived was knowing, feeling, that my mission was to get him ready for the world outside our door. my mantra, as ridiculous as it sounds, used to be "if we both got hit by a train, is he ready?" obviously he wasn't ready most of the time, but my focus was to raise him independent of us so he could live out there.

it didn't make the parting easier, but i took gladness and strength in knowing when he was finally ready.

(did i miss the point?!)

Nonna said...

stop making me cry.

signed,
- the mother of teenagers!

PS - on that other posting that you obviously don't want comments on...do you think that will stop us? HA! All I have to say is - you go girl!!!

Bethany said...

Oh, my! Ha! I love this mental image...or not?

AND by the way! I will totally run that half marathon with you! I need a good partner and am SO ready to begin.

Hugs.

Nichole said...

Know what I love? I love how you make me THINK. Your last 3 posts (from epiphany to mother-ish) were zingers. Thanks!!

Angela Williams Duea said...

How is this a problems? ALl the love and oozing sounds wonderful to me.

P.S. on your previous post - I am so with you! And way to go on your focus on health.

. . . said...

you are a lovely gaggle of girls, all ooey and gooeyed together at times!

Anonymous said...

About your previous post, I totally agree with Nonna. You can't stop us from wishing you well and trying to add our two cents to your efforts. We are mighty in our good wishes to you, and most stubborn in our attempts to send them. I am not going to go for a walk with you (the thousand plus miles separating us kinda gets in the way) but I will say that I think this is an excellent journey you have started. Oh, and those are Sexy running shoes you've gotten yourself!

From your more recent post it sounds like you need space. It is wonderful to feel so close and needed by your little ones, but sometimes you need to be able to swing your arms wide (without smacking anyone) and run (or walk briskly) toward the horizon. I think once you start moving things will start to slide into position again.

Minnesota Matron said...

I love this -- I feel that way when my 11 year old son bumps, burps and farts around me. He's sloppy and starting to be very ungainly and soooo not me. Sometimes he seems like the antithesis, even.