Reflections and Rants

Lately I have felt like I have no avenue to really speak in.. Everywhere has social rules and decorum to be followed, niceties and expectations, considerations and limits. So, let’s have none of that here. If I know you, and any of this offends or upsets you, I’m sorry. Here’s a collection of thoughts that have been tumbling around in my mind, suppressed and neglected.

– Life is too damn fleeting. My birthday is swiftly approaching, and it’s one of the big 0’s, and –maybe– it’s affecting me harder than normal birthdays that haven’t shifted me into a new age bracket. I think that’s pretty normal, but I also used to think I was a stronger and better person than to be upset at getting old. Not that I’m even old yet, really, finally reaching full adulthood and my “prime,” but youth is certainly and completely gone now. Youth never seems to die alone, it takes with it a host of dreams you didn’t realize were still alive until they’re gone.

– For the majority of my life, I’ve been true to myself to a fault. It’s been one of the few virtues that I clung to, even when it hurt me dearly. Whatever else happened, I was myself and acted accordingly, the rest of the world be damned. Parenthood, however, has been the thing to break me. Between being everything my child needs, and everything my husband expects me to be, I feel like there’s nothing of myself anymore. I’ve been trying, fiercely, to reclaim fragments of my day, fragments of my own personality, but it’s so very difficult. Everything I was – wanted – dreamed of – enjoyed – everything that defined me is now gone and I’m so afraid it will never come back. I’m not “growing up” or “changing” – I’m being lost, shoved into a life that doesn’t fit correctly. I’m terrible at the roles I’m in now – I’m a terrible mother and a terrible wife, and those are the only 2 things my life consists of anymore. I’ve sacrificed every aspect of myself, and I still fail, no one is happy.

– Being a stay-at-home-mom is both the best and the worst job in the world. I could write volumes on this, but for now I think I’ll stick with a “grass is always greener” comment and leave it be.

My Hipster Baby

Credit - Erin McCabe

Hipster Baby

 

My hipster son wears his feety pjs ironically.

Found these awesome vintage pjs at the thrift store. Aren’t they fun? I paid a dollar for them. =)

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