I just haven't had anything interesting to say lately. Or at least I haven't had anything interesting to say at the same time that I've been at the computer and had both of my hands free to actually say it (or, as is the case, type it).
There have been some interesting comments lately by Karrie and Amanda, as well as Thordora about being a Mom-Who-Blogs-About-Her-Child(ren)-and-Mommyhood, and what group aforementioned Moms you fall into. While I certainly don't give this blog enough time or energy right now to really put myself into that Blogging Mama group, it has caused me to look back at life in general and try to see where I fit. And I've also seen that I may just be one of those moms, those moms who have thrown themselves so completely into being the best mom they could be that they've lost the real sense of themself. I think it's largely due to the mistakes I made with my daughter, mostly due to bad advice and not being confident enough in myself to do what I thought was right. (Well, that, and the deadbeat ex-husband who wouldn't get off his butt and get a job, which left me in the position of trying to be primary breadwinner, mom, wife, and actually use the full scholarship I'd earned.)
This is what I've been thinking about lately. I think it's why I'm so desperate to get back into school, to actually have the time to read a whole book (I have several scattered around that I glance over a page or two when I get a chance), and why it feels like such a thrill to get (!) to go to the grocery store by myself. My mom started asking me to give her ideas for Christmas, and the boys' sizes, and I realized I couldn't think of a single thing I want, just things I want for the kids, or for the family. Nothing just for me.
Except time. Time would be good. Time alone, time with my husband, time to try out a new recipe, or read a book, or lounge in a bath. Time to write in my journal, or write something here, or time to go check out a movie. Time. For Christmas, someone give me some time.
I love my babies, of course, but sometimes, I just want to look in the mirror and see JUDY again, not just "Mama."
I realize it's next to impossible right now, with a 4-month-old who won't even take a bottle and doesn't yet sleep through the night (and if he's anything like his brother, won't for a long damn time), but I have to remind myself that it will happen (as long as the IUD works. Please FSM let the IUD work!). And it will be here soon, too soon. As long as Judy stays in there somewhere, I'll revive her when I can.
It's just one of my fantasies right now, along with being able to shop for clothes without thinking about whether or not I can nurse in them, and being able to eat an entire pb&j without having to give up half of it to a 2-year-old.