The big hereafter
Saturday, May 30, 2009 at 03:01PM
Motherhood has been unraveling faster than I can hold on to.
Suddenly I have time for Yoga classes, pedicures and all the foreign movies I can watch. No one seems to care what's for dinner anymore. No one comes home for dinner anyway, unless it is by appointment and in between urgent text messages.
I should be happy with my newfound freedom. I should be reveling in long quiet evenings of literature and bubble baths. The tub of chocolate pudding is all mine now. I don't have to curse whoever put the empty milk carton back into the refrigerator. There's hardly a sock doughnut to be found under the living room couch.
I should be having dinner with friends and planning a return to graduate school or a trip to India or at least Seattle. I should hop into my Honda and spend the weekend in Austin with Annette. I should buy a better car, build a studio, drink wine with dinner, live a little.
Instead, I find myself going home to a string of frozen dinners and aimless chores. I used to be important in this house. I used to be Grand Command Central, Goddess of Family Dinners and Uber Organizer of All Things.
What happened?
Will someone ever need me again to soothe a fever in the middle of the night? Or will the future be all cash, tuition payments and a phone call on mother's day? Am I too old a mother-dog to learn a new trick? Can I truly reinvent myself as everybody expects me to, and pronto?
I have so much less energy than I had twenty years ago. No script.
What am I supposed to do of this big hereafter?
empty nest,
motherhood in
Motherhood 

Reader Comments (2)
Mais qu'ils sont beaux tes enfants, pleins de vie et de jeunesse, comme nous, au même âge. Les années passent sans s'en rendre compte, le seul repère étant les enfants, ils nous poussent doucement et prennent notre place d'adulte naissant.
Je vous embrasse tous les trois, à bientôt peut être. Christiane
Mais qu'ils sont beaux tes enfants, pleins de vie et de jeunesse, comme nous, au même âge. Les années passent sans s'en rendre compte, le seul repère étant les enfants, ils nous poussent doucement et prennent notre place d'adulte naissant.
Je vous embrasse tous les trois, à bientôt peut être. Christiane