Saturday, January 7, 2012

My Pity Pot Runneth Over...or Does It?

Lately I seem to cry at the drop of a hat.  A sad song, an SPCA commercial (you know the ones with Sarah McLachlan), anything.  Naturally I thought it might be early menopause, but it can't be because I'm only 29.  Alright, 35.  Fine, 40, but I look like I could be as young as 35... if that 35 year-old never wore sunscreen and smoked a lot (of crack).  But I digress.

After some careful introspection, I've decided that I've hit a midlife crisis.  Indeed, 40 is middle aged and I need to own it, baby.  I think when a person reaches "half time" and reflects on his or her accomplishments and goals, it's natural to panic (or in my case, become weepy) over what dreams may have been left by the wayside and how little time, if any, is left to fulfill them.  Growing up, I knew exactly what I wanted to be (an actress/model), who I was going to marry (John Taylor from Duran Duran), where I was going to live (New York City), and even the names of my children (Julian and Kayleigh).  As I grew older my dreams changed, but no matter what they were, everything always seemed so possible.

I think for many people, the way life really turns out is something quite different from what they had imagined.  I could never have imagined the path that led me to where I am now, doing what I do, with the family that I have.  I am blessed and grateful beyond words, proud of my family and the things that we have accomplished, yet lately I feel a nagging sense of something unfinished.  Something I should have done.  But I'm not sure what it is.

For the past 13 years, I have had the privilege of being my son's cruise director on his voyage here on Earth.  As any mother will agree, it is the greatest and most rewarding job in the world.  But lately, each day I wake up, my son seems to have grown a foot taller and another mile away. He'll be off to college (we hope) in a few short years and he will become his own man.  I will always be his mother, but my place will move to the background as an observer, no longer fluttering around him trying to keep him safe.   I know that it is the natural order of things,  but as he gains independence, I feel like I lose purpose.  It's at times like this when I totally get why Michelle Duggar has 19 kids.  By the time the last one's out of the house, she'll be damn ready.

So I think my problem is that I'm having trouble coming to terms with the fact that my kid is growing up and  my services are becoming less and less needed.  He has been my life's work, and this "project" is in its last phases of development.  So what's a mom to do?  I've still got time to fulfill some of the dreams that I once had - aside from becoming a supermodel and marrying a rock star, but it's funny how the passing of time dulls your passion for the things that once seemed so important.  (Yes, I know there are people out there livin' the dream every day, with careers and adventures that most people only read about it.  Well, good for YOU.)

As usual, I didn't have a New Year's resolution for 2012. I just never believed in forcing myself to do something simply because it's the first day of a new year.  But now that I think about it, I really should.  I just turned 40 and it's a brand new year with endless possibilities.  What better time than now?  So this year, my resolution will be to find my bliss.  I am going to step outside of my comfort zone and try new things, start a new hobby, put myself out there. Who knows?  I may surprise myself with what I find.  And of course, I'll chronicle my journey on the blog.  Hey, at the very least it'll be great material!

Is it too late to join the circus?


  1. You've ALWAYS been a supermodel in my eyes and it's NEVER too late I say!! XO

  2. Well written, giving voice to something so many feel. I wish you luck finding your bliss and can't wait to read about it. p.s. please do not join the circus. Don't you know who works there? Midgets. And clowns.

  3. Never too late to join the circus, girl! I'm right there with you...42. For a few more months. Sigh.

  4. Somehow your New Year's Resolution reminds me of an event from your childhood. I guess having old friends who actually are OLD fart friends has its good points and bad points. I remember when you were just about the age you are in the photo above that Tom and I had come to dinner at your parents house. You were chasing fireflies in the backyard and enlisted Tom to help you. You then proceeded to explain to him how to tell the little boy fireflies from the little girl fireflies and many other interesting things about the firefly world. Tom was entranced, believed every word you said, and thought you were a genius child. Your firefly facts might have been a little unreliable, but you had totally mastered the bliss thing. Here's wishing you a great year of bliss hunting, ya little Firefly!

  5. Aaaww, thanks Marcy! I do remember that story. If I recall, Tom said to Mom, "I had no idea that such a small child could be so knowledgeable", and Mom replied, "Oh Tom, don't believe a word she says. She's full of shit." :0)

  6. Make work your bliss...

    Your loving husband.

    P.S. What's for dinner?