Childhood. Learning to be. Learning to stand. Learning to read. Holding Mom’s hand. First day of school. No turning back. Do I still need a nap?
Adolescence. Noticing him, noticing me. Chaste kiss. Trembling hands. Out of control. Off goes the light. Am I doing it right?
New Adulthood. Graduation. Celebration. Commencement. Real world education. Hard knocks. Easy-life temptation. Where am I even heading?
A Decade of Pining. Finding love. Losing lose. Making love. Failing love. Heart bruising. Heart breaking. How long is this supposed to be taking?
Climbing. Earn a degree. Land that first job. Work all the hours. Head down in a fog. Skill building. Ladder climbing. Is that the glass ceiling?
Yearning. Clock is ticking. Eggs are shedding. In a hurry. In a scurry. Practical love. Take the next steps. We haven’t lost all the romance, yet.
New Motherhood. Babies come. Fill your arms. Rob your sleep. Steal your wits. Feeding babies from your tits. When did my body stop being mine?
Living for the Kids. Soccer practice. Baseball games. “Can my friend sleepover?” Video games. Still sleep deprived. Still beaming with pride. When will there be enough time?
Letting it Go. Full time job. Full time mom. “What’s for dinner?” “Do I have to?” Constant pushing. Constant rushing. Can my body sustain this pace?
Getting Sick. Spreading out. Getting fat. Need a Motrin for my back. Diabetes. Heart disease. Did I ruin it beyond repair?
Is this Middle Life? Did I Cross the Line?
Sitting in her minivan in the grocery store parking lot, she felt anchored to the drivers seat. She knew she had to muster the will to go inside. Her to-do list has no bottom. But right now? She was just going to sit there, all alone in deafening but glorious silence. How long could I sit here, she wondered, without rousing suspicion about what’s taking her so long to get back home.
Meanwhile, her otherwise capable husband is probably overwhelmed. The kids are probably bickering. Everyone is probably getting hungry. His patience is wearing thin. She knows she will return to a house probably tense with unmet expectations.
She will probably hear, “I’m hungry,” before she even gets the first load of grocery bags into the house. It usually takes 4 trips from the van to the house to unload the volume of food it takes to feed this family.
When she was younger, she had romantic ideas about what motherhood would look like. This isn’t that. No one sees past the Pampers commercials, with quiet, sleeping, sweet smelling babies, when they pine for those two pink lines. Before you actually have kids, when the babies are abstract achievements to mark progress in adulting, you fantasize about adorable onesies with funny sayings and becoming the kind of mom who makes her own organic baby food. There are so many accessories for new moms. Where are the fun accessories for moms of kids old enough to talk to back but young enough to still want hugs?
She felt like an asshole. She wanted this life, hadn’t she? She wanted the husband and the kids and even the minivan. She got all of it. And now, she just needed a break. This grocery store parking lot, with the warmth of the sun permeating through the windshield, is the only break she’ll get today, until the kids are in bed for the night.
