Yes that is my wife playing derby! She rocked it because she’s awesome! The photo was taken by my very cool friend Sharkey! More of his photos are on Flickr here.
Yesterday I met with Melissa Lion because she wanted to ask me some questions about being a blogger. One of the questions that she asked was whether or not I considered myself a “Mommyblogger.”
“No,” I answered, absolutely not. I’m a blogger who has kids.
I find nothing offensive about Mommybloggers in general; in mass I find them a little bit un-nerving but on a one on one basis—no problem. I know who they are; I’ve met them all before, way before there was blogging. I used to hang out with all of them and have coffee and talk about sore nipples, milk supply, fevers, and sleeping through the night. I get it. Really.
My life is multi-faceted and being a mother is certainly part of it; sometimes it is much more a part of it than I would particularly like and I realize that may sound bad to some—but it’s the truth.
The Rose City Rollers has a big Halloween Party planned and last night Cher and I were chatting about it a bit when I realized that I don’t believe I have ever been to a Halloween Party. It dawned on me that I’ve been a mother for over 15 years and every Halloween has been focused around my kids, (as it should be I suppose.) This year Halloween falls on a Saturday and the girls will be with their other parent and I will actually be able to go out to a party, with adults, dressed in a costume. I’m 40-years-old and I’ve never done this.
Fifteen years is a long time and there are times when I think that nothing ever gets any easier.
All three of my girls broke down crying yesterday. One because she got a D on a Biology test and her BFF was being mean, one because she didn’t understand her math homework and felt like a failure, and one because I yelled at her for being completely inconsiderate and irresponsible (she didn’t bother to come home after school even though she knew I was waiting to drive her to practice.)
Today one kid didn’t feel good, one forgot her lunch AND lost her library book, and one missed the bus.
Really?
I am tired of being responsible for every person in my household’s every day needs. I’m tired of making sure everyone has everything and that she takes her vitamins and does her chores, has her homework, has breakfast, and lunch and is picked up and dropped off and practices piano. The people who live in my house look at me and ask, “Where is [insert any object you can think of.]” And I’m supposed to just know. I also need to answer every “What should I do about . . .” question, including what to wear, the fact that it’s raining, the fact that someone is out of eyeliner, etc.
Every single day I have to review my day and see who needs to be where when, do the shopping, clean, fit in making dinner, working, doing homework and maybe hanging out for a few minutes every day.
No one in my family considers what MY needs are for the day. No one stops and asks, “I wonder if Mommy/Kathryn ate lunch today?” or “I should really make sure that she has time to work on her homework before she goes to bed.”
I know what you’re thinking: I’m a mother and that’s just the way it is. I realize that and that is why I know that there is really nothing I can do about it with the exception of bitching. So I’m bitching.
I would love it for one week, just one week I didn’t have to worry about anyone else or consider anyone else’s schedule. I wouldn’t have to arrange my schedule around anyone else’s; I would be able to go to school and come home to my office and work knowing that someone was running the kids around, cleaning the house, making dinner, doing laundry and all I had to focus on was my work and what I was doing. Just one week. And I’m not talking about a vacation, I’m just talking about one week where I can function in my home without being the manager of everything. Because this job is starting to burn me out a bit.
I wonder if the Mommybloggers bitch about how much being a mom sucks sometimes. If they don’t now, they will when they hit around year 15. I’m pretty sure of it.
Half way through Week 3 of school and I’m missing a day (besides the first day when I took Halsey to get her cast but that doesn’t count as much because a lot of people don’t go to the first day.)
My youngest daughter is sick, sick, sick. She went to soccer yesterday perfectly fine and came back sick; an hour later she had a 102 degree fever. Of course my first thought was, “OMG, it’s H1N1 and we’re all going to get it, then I’ll flunk out of school and ruin my GPA.”
I’m trying to keep myself in check.
As to try to stay on the good side of my Spanish teacher I sent her an email in Spanish informing her of my absence, “Mi hija menor está enferma. Ella hace fiebre de 102. Yo no puedo asistir mi clase de español mañana. Lo siento mucho 
”
I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.
The wind is blowing in Portland and it’s cold; I’m supposed to take Mikayla and her friends camping this weekend for her 15th birthday at the Oregon Coast. What? What are you thinking? You’re thinking that I’m absolutely fucking crazy? Yes. Yes I am. But between now and then I have to deal with flu ridden children, a Spanish exam, homework, meetings, therapy, birthdays, and parent-teacher conferences.
The joys of Motherhood.
I’d write more but “The Wizards of Waverly Place” is on.
I nearly forgot that I have a blog, what with the hospital and children with broken limbs and exhaustion and Nietzche and Marquis De Sade and failing Spanish writing for money and commuting to school ten hours a week. And sex. Let’s not forget all the sex I’ve been having.
I wish.
My mom is now home after staying with us for a week to recover. It was good–she was able to relax on the couch and not worry about anything but getting better, and now if we can just get her to gain some weight, all will be well. Halsey had her cast removed today and so far–no one else is sick or injured.
Yesterday was National Coming Out Day and I was able to reflect that I’ve been out for five years. Five years of life being completely different than the thirty-five that came before. Five years of being someone who is the same but different. I have the same heart but my mind is much more open and everything matches–the inside and the outside. I am free of the restraints that I allowed to contain me before and even though I’m older now–I have never been more excited about living.
I hope that everyone who lives in a space, or a relationship or a place where they can’t be their authentic self will take a moment to consider what it may look like to have that be different. What would you do and how would you live if you had nothing to fear? What does that life look like? What if you knew you wouldn’t fail, who would you become? Where would you go?
Every day I feel as though I let go of a little bit more fear. I’ve had challenges that have faced me to look at my fear and my insecurity and really look at what that means about me–be honest about how much I allow fear to rule my life and my thoughts. The truth is–there is nothing to fear. Life is what it is and we owe it to ourselves to accept every challenge as a gift and an opportunity for growth without assigning it a judgment of being good or bad.
It’s a concept that is much easier to imagine in theory rather than in practice but it is one that I am challenging myself to do over the next five years. I’ll let you know how it goes.
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and I hope that you will take into consideration how much violence affects so many people every single day. I wrote about it in my last Just Out column; you can read it here if you like. Also consider making a donation to a domestic violence crisis line or shelter near you. In Portland, we’re lucky to have the amazing organization that is the Portland Women’s Crisis Line; you can give your time, talent or treasure.