What Lies Beneath

In times of stress, I turn to music for relief when cigarettes are unavailable. Music is my muse. Especially 90's pop rock alternative. I know its not the most intelligent music out there, but it brings back memories that I forgot I had. It makes me feel young, and reminiscent (thank god for spellcheck on that one!) about the good old high school days. High school, for the most part, was the single worst time in my life. BUT it did shape me quite well into the person I am today. I love the person I am today......well, I love the person I was last year. Today, I'm boring and anti-social, so I don't really get to express myself a lot. This blog helps of course, but its just not the same. I like to have heated discussions with people and tell them my opinion and not care what they think, then listen to their opinion and not care what they think. Lately though, everytime I feel like bitching about something, or expressing my opinion, I get scared about what someone will think. I want to bitch about how awful it is to be a mom, but then I think about people who don't get that privilege and I feel guilty. Or because I just said that I wanted to bitch about being a mom, I want to clarify by saying, "don't get me wrong....blah blah blah" Sometimes I just want to say what I want to say and I want you to shut up. I LOVE being a mother, and I will never EVER give it up. I would never EVER want anything different. Sometimes though, it sucks. It really does. Mothers know what I mean. Mothers want to hear this too. They want to hear that another mother is hating sometimes. It may not be easy to hear though, that a mother, so fortunate like me, is wining and complaining about the most wonderful thing in the world. Be comforted though my uneasy friend, that I truly love being a mother, and therefore, it is okay for me to bitch. If I didn't like being a mother, and was really a very bad parent, then be concerned. But for now, shut up. Just shut up and listen. Let me bitch and moan and whine. Let me get it out of my system and then pity me, and then, if I don't follow up sometime soon with a dedication to my perfect children, then you may call child services. For the next, however long this takes, I'm NOT going to say something mean, then say something nice. I'm just going to say something mean. Because I feel like it.

Being a mother/wife is EXTREMELY difficult. I lost myself, I lost my freedom, I lost my money, I lost my being-able-to-do-whatever-I-want-whenever-I-want-ness. I have one priority and one only, my children. My bratty, whiny, poop-smearing, diaper messing, puking, eating, complaining, hyper, sick, dependent, crying, crying, crying, yelling, fighting, insulting, breaking everything, losing everything, ruining expensive things, de-valuing, ripping, messy, WONDERFUL PERFECT children. I have no Casey time. If I want Casey time, I feel guilty. My husband gets his time, my husband gets to shower and eat and sleep and drive and walk and shop and spend and leave whenever he feels like. He gets to prioritize his children when its convenient for him. He gets to be himself still. He hasn't lost himself, its still there, LOUD AND CLEAR. Rubbing in my face all day every day. I want to run away, I want to fly away. I want to listen to Lenny Kravitz from 1999 all day. I want to listen to Bittersweet Symphony as loud as possible with headphones on so I can drown everything away into musical bliss for 5 minutes and 59 seconds. I want to cry and cry and cry and cry and cry and cry for however long I feel like.

I love my family unconditionally and I will happily sacrifice everything and do anything for them. Honestly. I just want to bitch sometimes. Even if it doesn't mean anything.