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Monday, August 18, 2008

This being a mother thing is hard shit......

First you puke and gain one hundred pounds. Then, you try to push a head through a small opening in your body. When that doesn't work, you beg for a man you hardly know to slit open your stomach. After that, you stay up night after night, trying to reason with someone who doesn't understand basic language or care that you have to get to work in the morning. In moments of sheer madness, you take long midnight drives in hopes of getting a 10 pound crying human being---who is *this* close to ruining your life--to sleep. Hours later, you find yourself a hundred miles away. And you still have to go to work--but you have to go NOW. And when you're almost over the edge, in desperation, you turn to loud, wheeling-dealing with God and obscenity-laced prayers to get you through the torment. Night after night after night. Just when the all night crying and screaming jags stop, you are forced to endure years and years of concerns over what goes into and what comes out of someone who doesn't care what goes in but loves to discuss and showcase what comes out! After that, in your dazed and confused state, you wrestle with curfews and messy bedrooms and socks on the living room floor. Oh but it doesn't stop there. Oh no! Pretty soon, you're staying up late waiting for the front door to open and a living breathing person to walk in, wondering if you should kiss him or smack him across the head when he arrives.
Extra pounds, dirty diapers, missed sleep, snotty noses, scraped knees, lost baseball games and dead hamsters. And it all comes down to this---trying to hold back the tears as you say good bye to the boy with magic eyes..in an apartment with beer posters on the walls.
Now, the only one crying in the night is me.....


Oh how I long for the good old days...........

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

It is SO hard! I remember well my son's first college apartment. The beer & sexy girl posters started at the front door and went around the entire apartment-every last inch-like WALLPAPER! I couldn't stand that place! And it smelled like STANK! (They were all jocks - the boys I mean) Anyway, it gets better. Good luck to you and your baby!

Jody V said...

Judi -

Hang in there. I can only imagine your pain. I hope you feel better real soon!

Daffodil Hill said...

I feel your pain! It wasn't too bad when my kids moved into local apartments, but when Jonathan moved far away, I cried and cried. It gets easier after awhile, though. The nice thing is that they're awfully happy to see you after they've been gone awhile. : ) {{hugs}}

Eileen, Founder, Organizer, Mayor and Chief Cook And Bottle Washer of the Anger Management Girls. said...

When, just when am I going to get my turn to be sad? Huh???
My 21 and 23 year old boys have no intention of even moving across the street for God sakes!
As a matter of fact, my 23 year old won't even go across the 40th street bridge without calling me first.
I want to miss them, really, I do!!! I think I'll be really good at missing them if given the chance.

Eileen, Founder, Organizer, Mayor and Chief Cook And Bottle Washer of the Anger Management Girls. said...

Example, when son #2 decided to attend Pitt. Come on, did he REALLY have to pick a college you can see from my front porch?

Gerry said...

Judi,
Absence makes the heart grow fonder but out sight, out of mind. I remember when my youngest left for college five years ago...I was so sad but when he came home for the holidays and summer, I couldn't wait until he went back to school again. And like you, my 23 year old is moving out at the end of September, I will miss the routine but I will start a new one. We've done our job.

My son was making a list of things he needed for his apartment, he mentioned he has to get curtains, toiletries and Saniflush. It made me chuckle.

Gerry