Last night I heard myself say the words out loud. "I do it because I'm trapped, not because I enjoy it."
Wow! What an awful truth to hear coming out of your own mouth. It's that time of the month where thoughts fly out of my mouth without any edit. Obviously, the thoughts are floating around in my mind. Only, most people don't let the world in to their most private thoughts. Apparently, I do. Hazard of being a writer, I guess.
Last night I made a pot-roast for dinner in the crock-pot. It turned out rather well, I think. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, except for Red. He wouldn't even entertain trying it, with the gravy, vegetables and all. I've never made a pot-roast before in my life. It's not really the kind of dish that I would think of making, but on Friday at the grocery store they made the recipe and were handing out samples. It was good as pot-roasts go. It had the tangy taste of red-wine in the sauce. I knew it was going to be a cold weekend. I wouldn't want to go out, so something in the crock-pot would be an easy idea for Sunday dinner.
If I'm honest with myself, I don't even like Sunday dinner unless someone else cooks it. The best idea for a Sunday dinner is going out to a nice restaurant, but not with the entire family. That's not fun. At all.
I go through the motions most Sundays because I know that my mother enjoys it. Hubby appreciates a good, hot meal. Blue loves food.period. Red doesn't appreciate a god damned thing. Never really has and probably never will. I certainly don't cook with him in mind.
My mom complimented the meal and followed up by saying something like, "You should enjoy cooking. You're a homemaker, a wife, a mother and a caregiver." Where does she get this 1950's bullshit?
She couldn't believe her ears when I said, "I do it because I'm trapped."
"What did you say?"
I repeated, "I am trapped by the decisions I made a long time ago. I don't cook for this family, because I enjoy it. I cook because I feel an obligation to do it." And that's the ugly truth.
My husband heard me say it and brought it to my attention this morning. Yeah. I said it. I'm sure there are moments that you feel the exact same thing. In fact, I know there are moments that you do. The difference between you and me, is that you get to walk away twice a month on an all expenses paid business trip, to a nice quiet hotel room.
This marriage and raising children thing is no picnic. It is not for the weak who easily walk away when it's not fun anymore. It was actually kind of fun when the kids were young, cute and didn't talk back. And my babies were really, really cute. Adorable. Most beautiful babies ever, even.
I do enjoy caregiving ...sometimes. In fact, I have been known to often over do it. I was the mom who made warm cookies when the boys came home from school. I enjoy putting a smile on my husband's face when I bring him a hot cup of coffee ...sometimes. Sometimes, I enjoy being his team mate.
However, standing for hours to prepare a meal, only to have it gulped down in less than five minutes, while listening to arguing, smart-assery, or 'What is this? It looks disgusting!" ...is not my idea of enjoyment.
Am I really trapped? No. If I was not a responsible person, I could walk away from my obligations. While I'm here, I can take breaks and find moments of happiness and fulfillment. I can make more of a concerted effort to make that happen more often. Sometimes, I can pay someone to do the stuff I no longer enjoy doing.
Do I love my family? Of course, I do. I want to see them happy. I want to them to leave the nest knowing how to fly.
Do I enjoy everything that it takes to get them to that point?
No. I certainly do not.
Do I want them to leave the nest like ...yesterday?
Abso-freakin-lutely!
In fact, I'm counting down the days until that happens.
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Wow! What an awful truth to hear coming out of your own mouth. It's that time of the month where thoughts fly out of my mouth without any edit. Obviously, the thoughts are floating around in my mind. Only, most people don't let the world in to their most private thoughts. Apparently, I do. Hazard of being a writer, I guess.
Last night I made a pot-roast for dinner in the crock-pot. It turned out rather well, I think. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, except for Red. He wouldn't even entertain trying it, with the gravy, vegetables and all. I've never made a pot-roast before in my life. It's not really the kind of dish that I would think of making, but on Friday at the grocery store they made the recipe and were handing out samples. It was good as pot-roasts go. It had the tangy taste of red-wine in the sauce. I knew it was going to be a cold weekend. I wouldn't want to go out, so something in the crock-pot would be an easy idea for Sunday dinner.
If I'm honest with myself, I don't even like Sunday dinner unless someone else cooks it. The best idea for a Sunday dinner is going out to a nice restaurant, but not with the entire family. That's not fun. At all.
I go through the motions most Sundays because I know that my mother enjoys it. Hubby appreciates a good, hot meal. Blue loves food.period. Red doesn't appreciate a god damned thing. Never really has and probably never will. I certainly don't cook with him in mind.
My mom complimented the meal and followed up by saying something like, "You should enjoy cooking. You're a homemaker, a wife, a mother and a caregiver." Where does she get this 1950's bullshit?
She couldn't believe her ears when I said, "I do it because I'm trapped."
"What did you say?"
I repeated, "I am trapped by the decisions I made a long time ago. I don't cook for this family, because I enjoy it. I cook because I feel an obligation to do it." And that's the ugly truth.
My husband heard me say it and brought it to my attention this morning. Yeah. I said it. I'm sure there are moments that you feel the exact same thing. In fact, I know there are moments that you do. The difference between you and me, is that you get to walk away twice a month on an all expenses paid business trip, to a nice quiet hotel room.
This marriage and raising children thing is no picnic. It is not for the weak who easily walk away when it's not fun anymore. It was actually kind of fun when the kids were young, cute and didn't talk back. And my babies were really, really cute. Adorable. Most beautiful babies ever, even.
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| See! Really Cute! |
However, standing for hours to prepare a meal, only to have it gulped down in less than five minutes, while listening to arguing, smart-assery, or 'What is this? It looks disgusting!" ...is not my idea of enjoyment.
Am I really trapped? No. If I was not a responsible person, I could walk away from my obligations. While I'm here, I can take breaks and find moments of happiness and fulfillment. I can make more of a concerted effort to make that happen more often. Sometimes, I can pay someone to do the stuff I no longer enjoy doing.
Do I love my family? Of course, I do. I want to see them happy. I want to them to leave the nest knowing how to fly.
Do I enjoy everything that it takes to get them to that point?
No. I certainly do not.
Do I want them to leave the nest like ...yesterday?
Abso-freakin-lutely!
In fact, I'm counting down the days until that happens.
Help support the blog ...click below to shop Amazon for the holidays
Shop Amazon with Confessions
