With Thanksgiving day officially less than 25 minutes away (and I am sure I will be just as far into it by the time I finish this post) and being as disatisfied with my life as I currently am, I began reflecting on last year. One year ago. The growth I've made as a person, a mom and a single woman. The things I wanted then versus the things I want now. How much care and effort I put into achieving those things now and how little I did then. How separation of and balance of the two roles, as mom and woman, have gained some perspective and individualism in my mind and actions.
Last year I wrote about how difficult the holidays were without my dad and spoke briefly about how each of my family members were dealing with that grief. I was snuggling with the kids and watching my Cowgirls play their version of football. I was cooking, grilling and baking. My brother had locked hiself in his room, refusing to socialize with anyone (not far off from his normal behaviors, I might add). My sister was with her boyfriend's family, I believe. My grandmother hadn't made it to our house yet and my mom was going about the day as if it were any other. It was my first holiday at all without my husband. I was content. At peace. Trying to find direction and purpose, but OK with that. I was taking baby steps.
This year will again be difficult. Differences in opinions on every topic under the moon have left family life so unbearable that I now don't have one with which to spend the holiday. I will most likely be alone for a large portion of the day. I was invited to the parental home of the man I recently ended a relationship with. While he and all of his family are kind, compassionate individuals whose company I usually enjoy, I don't think I want to go. I have too much sadness in my heart regarding the holidays and I know how important family time is to him that I don't want to be made to be the bitch because I'm simply missing my own family life and my own traditions.
What I really want to do, ideally, is spend the day playing games with my kids. Laughing. Laughing A LOT. Until my gut hurts and tears are rolling down my cheeks. And I want to watch movies that make me laugh. I want to watch my Cowgirls play their version of football. I want to watch Trains, Planes and Automobiles. I want to curl up on the couch with a happy little buzz at the end of the night with my head craddled nicely in the lap of a man who loves me and who's silence I can enjoy being in. I want things I don't have right now. And I'm tired of waiting. Of playing games. I just want things to...work.
So, while so many of my young friends are out acting like a bunch of fucking retards for the day of the year known as 'black-out Wednesday', I'm at home, alone, writing, reflecting and watching Liar Liar in an attempt to laugh the negativity and self sorrow out. I don't know what I will do tomorrow. This is the first year I haven't known what dinner will be and what dishes I will be preparing. This year will be so different from any other. And while I have a very love/hate relationship with change, when it gets to be too much, I need my routine. My tradition.
I don't know what tomorrow will bring any more than I know what next week will bring. Work, motherhood, womanhood, life in general is a fucking crap shoot for me anymore. I don't like it. I want stability. A regular pay check. Normal home routine. A steady yet unpredictable and exciting man. I don't feel like I'm asking for the world, yet I think that just may be what I want.
Happy Thanksgiving, bitches!
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